


A Different Lesson

by Nievelion



Category: Kung Fu Panda (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Horror, Humor, M/M, Romance, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2019-10-14 13:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 43
Words: 553,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17509559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nievelion/pseuds/Nievelion
Summary: The very day after his defeat by the Dragon Warrior, a battered and injured Tai Lung is taken in by Master Shifu. Determined to restore his son to his former heroic self, the red panda offers him a deal: submit to him, learn to control his anger and atone for his sins, and he will once again have a place at the Jade Palace. Several of the Five, most notably Tigress, think he is out of his mind, while Po has faith in his enemy. But as old adversaries resurface and a new, horrifying threat arises to cast its terrible shadow over all of China—one which wishes more than anything to corrupt the snow leopard once more into a monster—it will take all of them putting aside their differences and banding together, along with a few unexpected allies, to stop it. Even Tai Lung doesn't believe it possible at first. But there are no accidents, and nothing is impossible if you only believe in yourself. Can a father undo his past mistakes? Perhaps, if the snow leopard can be taught...





	1. The Offer

**A Different Lesson**  
 

Light, warm and inviting as the summer day of which it was a part, spilled down through the bars of the small, latticed window to wash across the stone floor of the otherwise dismal, dimly-lit cell. It wasn't actually a cell, of course, merely an unused storeroom on a lower level of the temple, but it was the best that could be mustered under the circumstances.

 

After the room's sole occupant had single-handedly overcome all the guards, fail-safes, and cunning devices which had held him prisoner before, in the most advanced and impregnable fortress ever known, there seemed little point in quibbling over where he should now be held. If he could escape from Chorh-Gom, he could escape from anywhere. So why not hold him where an eye could be kept on him?

 

Besides, for all the gloomy interior, the dank and grimy floor, the moss-covered walls and cobwebbed ceilings, there was one thing this room lacked which any other in the Jade Palace—one more suited, perhaps, to closer scrutiny and greater security—was sure to possess. There were no carvings here, statuary or otherwise, of dragons.

 

_No need to torment him with what he cannot attain. He's already undertaken more then enough of that all on his own to last several lifetimes._

Standing just out of range of the slanting sunbeams so that his diminutive form lay hidden in the shadows—though he didn't think for a moment his presence hadn't been marked the moment he stepped inside—Master Shifu forced himself to resist the habitual stroking of his long, drooping whiskers and instead clasped his slender hands at the small of his sloping back. He did not move, did not speak...only stared, in disbelief, suspicion, and infinite sorrow at the sight which lay before him.

 

In the exact center of the chamber, so that the rays of sun slanted across the stones in front of him but also did not touch more than his whiskers in passing, Tai Lung knelt just as if he were back in his solitary confinement, his arms even extended and bent at the wrists as if he still wore the colossal manacles which had chained him in place for so long. Nothing held him here; if he wished, he could attack Shifu now, or simply rise and dart past him through the open door.

 

But it was plain to see that he would not be going anywhere, had no inclination to. His massive shoulders were visibly slumped...his thick, bushy tail lay listlessly on the floor...his claws were sheathed, leaving his paws upturned in an incongruous image of supplication. And while his rosette-studded fur remained ragged from his battle with Po, blood and dirt and sweat matting it in clumps and snarls, and a certain dazed cast still hung over his features, much more seemed to be at work here than mere weariness or lingering shell shock.

 

This was not the student he had once trained, nor was it the implacable foe who, just yesterday, had nearly ended his life in the temple above. Shifu was not even certain who this was...and he wondered if Tai Lung himself knew. The expression on his face, for all its rigidity, flatness, and refusal to give any quarter even in displaying the inner workings of his heart and soul, was still easily readable to Shifu...but terribly complex and conflicted. Despair, confusion, denial, anguish, self-loathing, hatred, and above all, an utter helplessness, as if he had given up and lost all hope.

 

The Wuxi Finger Hold which had ended his reign of terror was indeed a devastating move, and in general the entire fight which had preceded it had been one long series of crushing, humiliating defeats. But instead of still manifesting the fires of insane fury and a new resolve for revenge, as he had expected, the snow leopard seemed...resigned to his fate. Lost.

 

And Shifu knew exactly why.

 

It was for exactly the same reason that Tai Lung had been such a dangerous adversary and had seemed to hold such promise in the arts of kung fu. The warrior had been the best of his generation, had striven with such passion, dedication, and talent to become everything his master had promised him he could attain—indeed, his agonized words of slaving away and breaking his bones to please Shifu were the literal truth. No one had been his match or equal, save Shifu and Oogway. Even Tigress, years after the fact, had never been able to match his accomplishments, a fact she denied to this day and struggled mightily to keep secret.

 

His strength had seemed limitless, his ingenuity and creativity astounding, his loyalty unquestionable, and his abilities always growing by leaps and bounds. It was no wonder that so many, from the other students all the way down to the lowliest villager, had been so shocked when he was not chosen as the next Dragon Warrior. It had seemed to make no sense, a sign that the turtle was beginning even then to succumb to addled brains. And if Tai Lung had possessed a certain dark savagery in some of his attacks, why, that had not justified any distrust or...

_No. Stop it. You went down that path of pride and blind arrogance long ago. And look where it got you. And him. Oogway was right_ — _in trying to avoid a fate, you made it come true. He would never have become so power-hungry and unstable if you hadn't filled his head with delusions of grandeur. And if you had overruled your master and let Tai Lung be given the scroll, instead of shying away from the darkness he said he saw in your prized student, that darkness would never have had a chance to flourish._

 

The point was, Shifu sighed to himself as he continued gazing raptly at the cowed snow leopard, that it was Tai Lung's own pride and arrogance that had ruled his entire life. They were what drove him, controlled him (though he, too, believed he instead had the illusion of control over them), gave him strength...but in the end, were his downfall.

 

So. The great master of kung fu, the one who had believed without a shadow of a doubt that he was destined for greatness, had lost. The one who had always left a battle victorious, save for that fateful day when he had gone mad and attempted to steal the scroll...had now been defeated. Not just any defeat; a shameful, disgraceful defeat in his eyes, made a mockery and a laughingstock by entering into combat with a big, fat panda, and _losing_.

 

No longer could he hide behind an untarnished reputation. The strength and skills he had always believed in had not been enough. He had not passed the test, and everything he had been determined to claim as his own had been denied him—not by another, but by his own self-deceptions. So what could possibly be left for him now?

 

It was the only way, the red panda knew. In no other manner could the combat have been decided in Po's favor, and any other denouement would actually have resulted in Tai Lung's death. As he had told the new Dragon Warrior before (even if it had been during the embarrassing stint when he'd been trying to drive the panda away), the way to achieve victory, particularly in kung fu, was to use the opponent's strengths against him, turn them into weaknesses, while maximizing your own.

 

Aside from his great size, martial prowess, and the knowledge he had gleaned of rare and unusual combat forms, the snow leopard's strengths had always been his pride and confidence in himself, and later his unquenchable rage. But that rage had been turned against him, made to serve Po as, in his increasingly frantic and desperate attempts to seize the scroll, he had missed opportunities, fumbled, allowed emotion to trump logic, forgotten his knowledge of anatomy, focused himself only into a single-minded insanity that had made him look a fool. And once that was accomplished, Po had only had to use his own size and strength, and his...unique fighting style, to bring the debacle to an end.

 

And that defeat had crushed utterly Tai Lung's pride...leaving him with nothing.

 

But knowing this, knowing Tai Lung had to be stopped and this was the only way Po could do it, did not make Shifu have to like it. Because what he saw before him now was no longer a threat, could not wreak havoc or destroy the Valley of Peace. But it was also the most painful, heartbreaking sight he had ever seen.

 

This, he knew, was what a broken man looked like. And that man was one he had once loved. Still did, and probably always would. How could he take pleasure in seeing the snow leopard in such a state, regardless what it meant for the valley? How could he enjoy seeing that downcast face, or the fact the fire seemed to have left those lambent, golden eyes that had always drawn others in, ever since he'd been found as an orphaned cub on the temple doorstep...?

 

"Well?" The word, spoken with a harsh, vicious growl as startling for its suddenness as its pitch and gravelly nature, nearly caused Shifu to have a heart attack, or perhaps leap several feet off the floor. "Have you come to stare at your caged prize, Shifu? One last look before you send me back to Chorh-Gom? Or did you just come here to gloat?"

 

At last Tai Lung looked up, and though some of the fire had returned to his eyes, it was not at all the same—dredged up from some unknown depth, ignited to stave off the inevitable sense of loss and shame, but certain to burn out quickly and leave nothing behind. His jaw quivered; with barely restrained fury, with uncertainty, with a growl he couldn't vocalize.

 

"No, of course not. How could you think such a thing? You know me better than that." Shifu couldn't keep the rebuke, or the hurt, from his voice, and didn't bother trying.

 

"I thought I knew you, you mean." The tone was bitter, unforgiving, but not nearly as accusing as it could have been. The snow leopard averted his gaze, though he didn't seem to be staring at anything in particular...not at anything that could be seen. "I thought I knew...a lot of things."

 

Putting a weary hand to his forehead, the red panda fought the urge to sink down to the floor as well, or worse attempt to approach and offer comfort. The former would put him at a disadvantage should his old student become violent again, and the latter would be sure to guarantee said violence. "For what it's worth, I meant what I said yesterday. I truly am sorry, for having failed you so badly as a teacher..." _And as so much more_. "...and I wish there was some way I could set right the ills I have done to you, son."

 

Now, for the first time, Tai Lung seemed to recover the full force of his titanic rage. He still did not rise to his feet, but his fists clenched tightly, the muscles knotted beneath his barrel chest, and a flash of loathing exploded in his narrowed eyes.

 

"How _dare_ you!" he hissed, a threatening growl rumbling in his throat. "How _dare_ you call me that, after what you've done to me! I gave up _everything_ for you, and you threw me away! I fought to become the best kung fu master in the valley, in the world! But that wasn't good enough for you! Now I've lost everything, wasted my life chasing after something that wasn't even real, and all you can do is say you're sorry...twenty years, Shifu. Twenty _. Years_."

 

His biceps knotted, making the spots in his fur dance and ripple almost hypnotically. "You don't deserve to call me your son. A father doesn't treat his son that way. So don't ever use that word again..."

 

Shuddering, Shifu closed his eyes and turned his face away—for what he saw in those lantern-like eyes was not just anger or resentment, it was pure, molten hatred...but also an undeniably genuine suffering. Behind his lids, memories flooded through the red panda's mind...a tiny, cloth-wrapped bundle scooped up from the grass, innocent eyes blinking open sleepily before small, black-padded fingers curled around Shifu's...an adorable cub, tottering to his paws and mimicking his father's movements in the training hall, only to turn and gaze up for approval, nuzzling affectionately under the panda's chin when he received it...an older cub, bravely acting to save the lives of numerous villagers after a sudden downdraft had snapped the Thread of Hope and sent it plunging down into a mountain ravine...an adolescent, coming to his chambers, face glowing with pride as he spoke rapidly of having bested Oogway at sparring for the first time...and nearly an adult, having grown into a colossal specimen of a warrior whose combat prowess and prodigious strength were already legendary in the valley, executing flawlessly every form and exercise in the training hall, then bowing deeply to his master.

 

In every memory, those eyes were the same...filled with love, respect, trust, and honor. _How...how could he have fallen so far, so fast, and I failed to see it? How could that love have turned to such hatred? But then...there is a fine line between love and hate, they are two sides of the same coin._

 

Remembering the look in Tai Lung's eyes when he was crushing the red panda's throat, just before Oogway's staff broke, he shivered again.

 

Yet...it didn't stop him from yearning for what was lost. And something of the sentiment seemed to echo, if only briefly, in the snow leopard's eyes now. Slowly his fists lowered and relaxed, going limp. Unknitting his brows, Tai Lung stared at him with a helplessness very unlike him, as if he were floundering in one of the great mountain rivers and could not stay afloat. Regret, pain, loss...it was all there, written on the feline's features. The moment passed, and he turned away abruptly, giving a dismissive snort...but unless Shifu missed his guess, there were tears standing in his golden eyes.

 

"You're quite right," he said at last, his voice shaking. "I don't deserve to call you that anymore. But that doesn't mean my feelings for you have changed."

 

Glancing sharply at him, the snow leopard managed a low, barking laugh. "Oh, really? Is that why you're here? To come and kiss my wounds and make them all better?" His laugh became a growl. "It's a bit late for that, don't you think?"

 

In spite of himself, Shifu had to hold back an angry retort, take a few calming breaths, and count to ten before he trusted himself to speak. It would do no good rising to the bait, when Tai Lung so obviously wished to argue and place blame. That was not why he was here. He was here because he had lied to Po—not that he hadn't done that before, though hopefully this would be the last time. He was _not_ completely at inner peace, would never be until he knew, once and for all, that he had done all he could for the student he had failed so miserably and that, whatever the outcome, Tai Lung would be at peace. The Wuxi Finger Hold had taken his will to fight. But now he needed a will to live in its place.

 

"No, Tai Lung. If there is anything I have learned in my long life, it is that it is never too late. _That_ is why I am here. To help you."

 

Snorting, the snow leopard chuckled. "You mean you have learned something after all? I think you've done quite enough helping. As far as I'm concerned, you can walk out that door and never come back. I am _nothing_ now, you understand? Everything I wanted, everything I believed in, has been stripped away from me. So why don't you just let me die already?" It was hard to tell whether the pain in his voice was due to his ignominious defeat, the worthlessness and self-loathing he felt, or having to admit such things aloud.

 

Something seemed to shrivel inside Shifu, but he would not allow himself to back down, not when he had come this far. Standing up straight, he said with as much authority as he could muster, "When you've finished whimpering like a cub, Tai Lung, perhaps you'd be interested in knowing that I had hoped to offer you a place here again."

 

Dead silence greeted this pronouncement. For the first time he could remember, the snow leopard was absolutely speechless. Once again a conflicted morass of emotions darted across his face—fury (at the insult, no doubt), puzzlement, disgust, and fleetingly (before being hurriedly squashed) a flicker of hope. Finally he seemed to settle on neutral skepticism. "Really? Would that be before or after Tigress rips me a new one?"

 

"It's no trick. The others already know. And while they're not exactly happy about it—" Understatement of the dynasty. "—I am the master here, and they will follow my wishes because they trust in my good judgment." _Even if they should not._ "You may not be exactly trustworthy yet, but you can be trusted not to lose control and go on a rampage again. Or didn't you notice that your rage is gone, Tai Lung?"

 

Which it was—he'd felt the absence as soon as he entered the cell, like having a suffocating dark blanket ripped away to let in the light of day. And with it had vanished the snow leopard's phenomenal _chi_ as well, all drained away by his ultimate combat and more importantly what it had revealed.

 

An ugly look crossed the feline's face, but after flexing his claws in and out of their sheaths for several moments, he grunted and smacked his fists into the floor—wincing slightly in pain, Shifu was relieved to see, for the ability to feel pain proved his berserker rage was indeed gone. Slowly he sighed, seeming to deflate once more...becoming a rather lonely-looking, somewhat pathetic figure as his shoulders sank and his chin fell to his fuzzy chest.

 

"So it is. I suppose that's what happens when the thing you fought your whole life for, what you'd been denied and had hidden from you, turns out to be a lie."

 

"Or perhaps just a different truth than you expected. As Oogway always said, there are no—"

 

"Accidents, yes, I know. Spare me the platitudes, especially from that senile idiot. If these kernels of wisdom are all you have to offer me, then I don't see what the Jade Palace could possibly give me now." For a moment a sadistic grin crossed his muzzle, and an unconvincing note of sympathy entered his voice. "But then it seems I wouldn't have to worry about seeing him dodder about in his shell anymore, would I? So sorry to hear about your loss..."

_Not pulling any punches, I see. But did you really expect otherwise? And when did he ever?_ Maintaining a stoic, unthreatening façade, the red panda sighed and shook his head. "Patience never was your strong suit, Tai Lung. The more things change, the more they stay the same. The simple fact of the matter is," he paused slightly. "I failed in your training. And as your battle with Po shows, there were one or two lessons you missed, too. If it's all the same to you, I thought I might rectify that little oversight. Of course you'd have to agree to certain guidelines while you're here—I'm sure you know which ones." _Not killing your fellow students would be a delightful start_. "But maybe, just maybe, you can learn the last and best lesson I can teach you."

 

He hated dangling the proposition before Tai Lung like that, since it smacked of manipulation (not to mention the treatment which had originally corrupted the snow leopard in the first place). But he had no choice, if there was any chance whatsoever of his son being redeemed.

 

And the suggestion seemed to have planted its seeds, since the fallen warrior could not disguise the naked hunger on his face. What those seeds might grow into remained to be seen. _I only know it will not be a peach._ "Quit speaking in riddles, Shifu! What do you mean?" A beat, then, "Not that I'm agreeing to anything. Do you really think I want to come back to a place I've outgrown in so many ways? Plus, I imagine it still smells terrible."

_Haha! Got him!_ And the mockery was actually a very good sign, since it was the only time in the last twenty years he could recall seeing any flash of the snow leopard's former good humor returning. "That would be Monkey. I'll have a word with him. As for you...while you were not destined to be the Dragon Warrior, there may yet be something extraordinary you can do, and be. If you are willing to accept my help."

 

Again the flash of hope, this time lasting much longer before it dissolved into rejection and wrath. Fingers flexing spasmodically as if he longed to wrap them around the panda's neck, he snarled, "If this is another of your vaunted karst dreams, Shifu, so help me...and why should I listen to you, when you failed me so badly before? Isn't this just the way it started then, with your glorious promises puffing me up too far?"

 

"You'll never know if you don't try, will you?" He smiled impishly. "And we'll just have to wait and see what develops."

 

"But...what more can you teach me? You said yourself I was the strongest and most powerful student you've ever trained." In spite of himself, Tai Lung thrust out his chest proudly.

 

"So you were. But a true kung fu master also knows his weaknesses." Shifu stared intently into those golden orbs as he stressed the final word. This was the key point…everything hinged on how the snow leopard responded.

 

At first, matters seemed hopeless—Tai Lung only swelled as if he were a dragon about to belch a roaring inferno of flame, and his face turned a very dark red under the fur. But then, gradually, his ire subsided, and as a rather comical, querulous yowl escaped his muzzle, he looked at Shifu—and in his eyes was not anger, or at least not only anger, but genuine puzzlement. "I don't have any weaknesses."

 

Once, such a statement would have been screamed at the top of his lungs, flecked with a rabid froth, and backed up by a dizzying array of punches and kicks designed to pummel Shifu into submission, until he denied such a blatantly false accusation. But now...it was more of a tentative statement, and though Tai Lung would never dare say so aloud, the red panda could almost hear the unspoken follow-up: 'Do I?'

 

"That is why you failed, and so did I. Because we both believed that." But the manner of the snow leopard's reply had convinced him this was the right course...he had this one last chance to set things right, and if it took the final breath in his body he would not rest until Tai Lung finally had the power and glory he craved—this time, the right kind.

 

"I promise, this time will be different, however. By the time I'm through with you, you're going to have a whole new place here at the temple...something neither of us could ever have imagined." _If I can just figure out what that is, and how to get him there. What else can the Great Wall be besides a wall?_

 

Tai Lung tried to look scornful and disdainful, but somehow failed. "Well...then I shall think about it. But I can promise nothing."

 

"Naturally." Moving back toward the door, for the first time believing it was safe to turn his back on his former student, he called over his shoulder, "I shall have food brought to you, then."

 

Behind him he heard Tai Lung shift, followed by a massive thud as he flopped down on the pallet that had been provided for him—for all he knew, the first time the snow leopard had moved from his kneeling position since he'd been brought here from the crater in the town square. A low mutter came back: "Just so long as it's better than that sludge Vachir gave me."

 

Smirking, Shifu stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him. But as he paused in the hallway, a thought struck him and he smiled wider than he had since Oogway's death. _Two birds with one stone. I know just the fellow to ask..._ With his usual spry agility, he darted off for the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Text copyrighted 2008-2009. Originally posted on Fanfic Dot Net. Enjoy!


	2. A Bowl of Noodles

Two hours later, just when Tai Lung's stomach was growling so loudly it could be confused for the ones his throat usually produced, a diffident knock came at his cell door. "About time," he called with his habitual snarl. But as he sat up and turned to face the newcomer, he froze instantly in place—tail twitching, fur puffing, fangs bared and claws unsheathed.

 

Slowly, uncertainly, something very large, and very black and white, became visible alongside the doorframe, and then a furry face with rounded ears and a sheepish, apologetic expression peeped around the corner. It was the panda, the one who had publicly humiliated and defeated him—Fo? Po?—bearing, of all things, a huge china bowl in both paws, filled to the brim with steaming liquid that smelled, from that distance, like some sort of noodle dish. Managing to balance the heavy dish with one paw—oh but of course, he was the _Dragon Warrior_!—he lifted the other to give a sort of half-wave with wiggled fingers. "Um...hi?"

 

Sadly, he didn't have enough energy or anger to duplicate his usual trick of appearing to materialize right behind someone, so all he could manage was to spring to his feet and lunge across the room until he stood only a few feet from the panda. Chest heaving, shoulders thrown back, eyes flashing with hate, he snapped, "What do you think you're doing here? Get...out."

 

"Wh-what?" Either the bear was even denser than he looked, or he was actually that naïve and clueless as to not realize he was unwelcome. "B-but, I was just bringin' ya your food...Master Shifu said—"

 

"So leave it here, then. What makes you think I'd want to see your flabby butt again? Unless it's as you're on your way out, of course." Fists clenching and unclenching, he could not even begin to express the white-hot, molten rage he felt upon laying eyes on Po again.

 

The fact he seemed like (or was assuming the role of) a happy-go-lucky, amiable fellow just ground his muzzle in the fact that this half-witted, out-of-shape, spineless tub of lard had taken his rightful place...without a care in the world, depriving him of what should have been his...only to prove that the scroll he had fought, sweated, bled, and killed for was a fraud, utterly useless, and claiming there was no secret, just something in him. Implying there was no such thing in Tai Lung.

 

And Shifu! _He_ had sent the panda? Was this his idea of new training? Subjecting him to the presence of this blathering idiot until...what, he cracked, ran away screaming, never to return? Was it all a big joke to him? Or was this supposed to 'prove' something?

 

Or maybe the bear was just the first one Shifu had found in the kitchen (of course!), and he was getting paranoid.

 

Even as he put a paw to his forehead with a groan, Po was scrunching up his face and tilting his head to the side, as if by looking at him from a new angle he could understand him. Rolling his eyes, he muttered to himself, but Tai Lung's sharp ears still caught it: "Geez, somebody got up on the wrong side of the den..."

 

Snarling again to let the bear know he'd heard exactly what was said, he posted both fists on his hips. "On second thought, if _you_ made this, take it back to Shifu and tell him I want something that's actually edible."

 

To the snow leopard's shock, Po seemed to swell larger before him, eyes going flat and his expression actually turning menacing. In a low, threatening voice, much colder than how he usually spoke, he said, "You take that back. I may not be as good a cook as my dad, but everything I know, I learned from him...and that's one of his best recipes. Don't...diss...the noodles."

 

Tai Lung would have laughed, if not for the deadly serious look in the panda's eyes...and the memory, as Po took a step toward him, of just how the fellow had soundly trounced him with innovative and daring techniques...and used moves on him he'd never even heard of or seen, let alone learned.

 

Swallowing hard for the first time since he was a cub, and feeling like a weakling for doing so, he held both paws up in a placating gesture. "Uh...sorry...just kidding? But what are you, from some long line of legendary chefs, or something?"

 

Po stopped, and if he didn't know better, the snow leopard would have thought he was struggling between declaring with pride that that was quite right, and forcing the words out like each one caused him an obscure pain. Or maybe he was just constipated. Tai Lung strained to hear as the panda muttered to himself, but all he caught were the words "broth" and "veins" which made absolutely no sense at all. Then he spoke up again. "You could...kinda say that. Anyway, you gonna eat it?"

 

Closing his eyes for a few moments—if the panda was as persistent in his training as he was regarding food, it's no wonder he managed to master kung fu well enough to defeat him—the snow leopard sighed, threw his paws in the air, and crossed back over to his pallet, flopping down on it heavily. "Whatever." _Probably asked only so he could chow down if I say no. Never knew pandas could be such pigs._

 

But to his surprise, Po simply sat down cross-legged near his pallet, placed the bowl down within easy reach, and rested his paws on his belly, staring at him. "Well it's there if ya want it, but don't let it get too cold."

 

Slowly Tai Lung turned his head to stare at the panda. From the decidedly uncomfortable look on Po's black-and-white features, his golden eyes had delivered precisely the right amount of scorn and rebuke. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, chubby? Crackers to chomp, cookies to munch, dumplings to gnaw? Or hasn't Shifu introduced you yet to the joys of floor polish and elbow grease?"

 

For a moment saliva seemed to gather at Po's mouth, but then he shrugged and nervously twisted his paw fingers around each other. "No. Well, yeah I guess I could be doin' some laps or push-ups or somethin'. Or go down to the village and help everyone clean up the mess...you know, all those buildings that fell down, roofs that came off, or yeah, that big suspension bridge that needs hangin' up again."

 

The panda's tone had shifted, almost without him noticing it, from casual nonchalance to fake innocence, and Tai Lung was surprised to see a very pointed, direct look in his eyes. _Touché. And he's smarter than he looks._

 

"Anyway," Po went on, "I'd rather be here with you."

 

"What?" He could _not_ have heard that right.

 

"It's true!" The panda held up both paws for silence. "Yeah, you almost destroyed the village, scared all those poor villagers out of their skins, wrecked our livelihoods, tried to kill Master Shifu, and the Furious Five, and me. But I don't hate you for it."

 

Now Tai Lung sat up, all pretense at sarcasm gone as he stared in astonishment at Po. This was the most nonsensical thing he'd heard yet. Granted, the panda had seemed more to be having fun than participating in a combat to the death when they'd duked it out...but everyone hated him once they heard of all the atrocities he'd committed, starting with the 'betrayal' of Shifu and Oogway. Tigress certainly did...

 

If hatred was what he had to contend with to achieve true justice, so be it. He'd gotten used to it, even come to expect it. And never had he been disappointed, until now.

 

Before he could even hazard to ask a question, Po seemed to have figured out what was up from the look on his face. "Really, I don't! I'm not happy with the stuff you've done. And I knew you had to be stopped. But I did it 'cause it was the only way, and I was the only one who could do it, not 'cause I liked it or anything." He made a face. "Okay, I kinda liked it, but you know what I mean."

 

"Not particularly, but let's pass on that one," Tai Lung replied dryly. "Are you seriously telling me that you've grown up in this valley, heard all the horror stories about me and my exploits, and never once felt like screaming in terror when you heard I was coming?"

 

Not that he cared if Po had, or if this conversation caused the panda to no longer enjoy being with him—in fact he rather hoped that would be the result. But at the same time, he couldn't help but be curious.

 

"Of course I was scared!" Po blurted out. "I know I'm a schmuck, but I've been around the block a few more times than you think. But being scared of you, and hatin' you…that's two different things. Truth be told, I'm shakin' right now." Indeed, he was. "But Master Shifu still believes in you, so I'm gonna trust you 'til you give me reason not to." He paused, his voice dropping. "Besides...I don't think you're evil."

 

"What, you don't believe all the tales, that I was dropped off as a cub at the Jade Palace by a group of wicked snow leopard assassins? That the darkness is in the blood and I was merely born this way?" The stilted, sarcastic tone he adopted was there solely to disguise his shock...and the sudden lump that formed in his throat.

 

Once Oogway made his fateful pronouncement (word of which had spread to the Valley proper, naturally enough, through the gossip of the Jade Palace servants and guards), no one had looked at him without shuddering. And once it had almost immediately borne fruit in his rampage, no one had thought of him without making signs to ward away evil—as during his ignominious ride in the prison cart bound for Chorh-Gom that had carried him right through the village streets, to show the people they were safe from him, the menace had been contained. To let them harangue and mock him worse than ever before. And of course, there was the treatment he'd received from Vachir and his men...

 

This just was not possible...no one could be this innocent and good-hearted! If he pushed enough, if he showed his true colors, Po would have to give in and conform like all the others, that was all.

 

Yet the panda seemed determined to win even this battle of dueling viewpoints. In fact his expression was horrified and even a touch infuriated. "Of _course_ not! Nobody's born bad, no matter what they say. At least, I don't think so. You just got a really tough break, that's all. I understand exactly how ya feel. You and I, we're actually kinda alike."

 

"Shut up!" Now the panda was going too far.

 

But the bear seemed incapable of ceasing talking once he'd gotten started—something which, to his chagrin, Tai Lung recalled was true of himself when he was a cub.

 

"No really, I mean think about it! You were, like, the greatest kung fu master EVER—well, after Master Oogway and Master Shifu, of course—and I always wanted to be a great kung fu master too. And you got left here on the doorstep, nobody knows where you came from, so Master Shifu adopted you—and me, well I love my dad and all, but there's no _way_ he could really be my father. Then there's—"

 

"Shut _up_ , I said!" Would he never take the hint? His claws unsheathed and began to itch for something to slice and sever.

 

As if he'd said nothing, Po kept on rambling. "—and I always wanted to be somethin' other than a noodle-maker, and you, well LOOK at you! You're about as far away from a noodle-maker as you could be! Not t' mention what you were when you first got here. And even the Dragon Warrior thing—you always dreamed of bein' the one, and didn't get chosen, while for me, that was the _last_ thing I ever wanted but I got chosen anyway! So—"

 

Letting out a furious, fearsome roar, Tai Lung lunged at Po, and finally his mouth snapped shut as he let out a satisfying squeak and scooted back several feet. "Who do you think you _are_? You have no right to compare our lives and say we're anything alike, or that you understand me! I don't have anything in common with a fat panda with a penchant for stuffing his face, and that's that. All I ever wanted was for Shifu to be proud of me—"

 

Having recovered from his fright, the panda gave him a hard, direct look. "Same thing with me and my dad."

 

"—and be recognized for my true talents, for how special and different I truly was—"

 

"Oh, look! Same thing again."

 

"—but all I ended up doing was losing twenty years of my life, pursuing a hopeless dream, only to find out in the end that it wasn't real! I was chasing a fantasy, and wasted my life for nothing!"

 

Chest heaving, Tai Lung sat back with a huff on his pallet, and even though he felt incredibly infuriated with himself for allowing his buttons to be pushed, and spilling out his own secret fears of inadequacy to Po, at the same time it somehow felt...good to get it all out. Only after he had fallen silent did the panda's words start sinking in—and he stared at the bear in disbelief.

 

Po smiled at him, a little sadly, a little sympathetically, and nodded. "I thought the same thing too, for the longest time. But guess what? We were both wrong. My dad wanted nothin' more than for me to make noodles in his restaurant. Now I'm a kung fu warrior...well, sort of...and he couldn't be prouder of me. I _know_ Master Shifu is, or was, proud of you."

 

"How do you—" Was Shifu airing _all_ his secrets in the whole valley?

 

"He told me so himself," Po cut across him. "And why shouldn't he be? I mean, before you went bad, you did so many incredible things! You were brave, you were a hero, everyone knows about it! The way you single-handedly took out that army of foxes from the east, or how you defended the Great Wall from the Huns, or when you saved all those families on the pleasure boat when it was goin' to go over a waterfall..."

 

Tai Lung swallowed hard, again. _I thought no one knew about those tales anymore. That they'd all been scratched out and burned after what I had done._

 

"...and even after you went bad, you still did some pretty cool stuff! So you see, we've both been tryin' too hard, for somethin' we already had. I didn't need to make noodles to earn my dad's love, and you didn't need some stupid scroll to tell you you were a great warrior! If you'd just believed in yourself, you probably would've never gone bad in the first place. That's the only waste I see here."

 

Now bemused as well as overwhelmed, the snow leopard tried to shake it off, to brush it aside as he had the words of everyone else in his life who'd tried to tell him he was in the wrong—except Po was saying he was right, in a way. And all that hero-worship for the warrior he used to be...that had shaken _him_. "So...you don't think I'm evil...because you admire me?" _Impossible. I have a fan._

 

"Well that's only one reason," Po said seriously. "I got the full story from Tigress. You were raised from a cub by Master Shifu, taught everythin' he knows, loved like a son, and then you get denied the top position. Of course you're gonna be angry—I would've been too! Okay, you got your priorities mixed up, so that a scroll was more important to you than love and respect—or you thought it was gonna give them to you. But that doesn't make you evil. It just makes you someone who's been really hurt. I believe in you, though. I believe you can come back, and be a hero."

 

The panda's earnestness would be touching, if it weren't so ridiculously cheesy and overwrought. The cruel, cynical side of Tai Lung, that which had been nurtured and allowed to fester and grow during all those years of imprisonment, couldn't help smirking at the possibilities inherent in manipulating this hapless panda into also betraying Shifu, into joining his cause. But the rest of him...

_I was always convinced that solitude was my destiny. That friends, lovers, family were all superfluous, that love was an encumbrance I could not afford. That by virtue of my fate and my position as a warrior without peer or superior, I didn't need anyone because I would be alone at the top regardless. But was that only because I had never truly known differently? Because I convinced myself something I couldn't have wasn't worth having_ — _only the power was? Look at this fat fool. I nearly killed him several times over, and he can still sit there, smiling like an oaf, and tell me he believes in me. What gives him such powerful faith that even Shifu couldn't have...that I couldn't, once upon a time?_

 

For a split second he wondered if this trust, this inner goodness, this heart filled with unconditional love and shining, optimistic simplicity, was the true power of the Dragon Warrior. If so, that would for the first time explain why he was not chosen...because, even before he left the Jade Palace, he had become so focused on training, perfecting himself, achieving victory at any cost, that he'd forgotten or deliberately discarded the emotional element.

 

Even though it seemed hokey and preposterous, there was an insidious appeal to the part of him that was weary of fighting, enough to keep him from laughing it off derisively. He had tried everything else to achieve greatness, and it had always somehow eluded him. What was left but establishing bonds between himself and others again? What did he have to lose at this point? There was, after all, nowhere else to go but up.

 

Leaning gingerly against the wall, since his back was still sore from some of the blows he had taken during the battles yesterday, Tai Lung sighed and shook his head regretfully. "And just how do you know all this, eh? How'd you stumble upon such insight about both of us?"

 

"From this," the panda said simply, and reaching behind him he removed something from the waistband of his pants—where it must have been a very tight fit, judging by the sudden look of rapture on his buffoonish face.

 

As soon as the snow leopard saw the scarlet and gold cylinder held in his black-furred paw, he growled nastily and tried to push it away. "In case you've forgotten, panda, that thing is a hoax. It can't teach anyone anything."

 

"Wrong again!" Po said, annoyingly cheerful. "It taught me everythin', and it can teach you too. I don't feel wrong in sharin' this with you, because I think I was meant to. Who else can teach a Dragon Warrior but another Dragon Warrior?"

 

"What?" Tai Lung sat up abruptly and almost bumped his head on a low-lying shelf. "What are you—"

 

"Here, take a look. Tell me what you see." And suddenly the scroll was thrust in front of him, spread open for him to gaze upon.

 

Somehow, even though he knew what it held, or rather didn't, he found he couldn't look away. There was the blank sheet of parchment, somehow coated with a glistening varnish or else enchanted in some other way to resemble reflective gold. And of course, looking right back up at him was his own visage.

 

For a moment he was simply startled at how good he still looked. After twenty years rotting in Chorh-Gom, thinking of nothing but plotting his revenge and ascension to power, he was rather surprised that he didn't look as aged and wrinkled as Oogway, or ugly and deformed like some of the rhinoceros guards. But other than a slight gauntness to his features, and the sunken, haunted look to his eyes, he looked the same as he did the day he went in.

 

Yet at the same time, those eyes said so much more about the journey he had traveled to this place and time...to the point that he could not bear to look at them for more than a few moments.

 

Averting his gaze and closing his eyes, he murmured, "A failure. That's what I see."

 

Po nodded, but at the same time he also tilted one paw from side to side, as if the matter were in doubt or undecided. "Yeah...then again, maybe not. Okay, so I beat you. That's one loss out of how many wins? And you never earned this scroll, no matter how much you thought you deserved it. But the only secret it holds, is that _you_ are the secret. You don't need a scroll to give you special powers. You've already got them! I mean, what's that nerve-pinchin' power you have?"

 

"I call it the Leopard Claw," Tai Lung managed to observe, wiggling a claw ostentatiously.

 

"Oh! Er, yeah. That makes...uh...sense." The panda stared at his claw, while absently rubbing at various spots on his arms, shoulders, and especially his belly—evidently the places where, despite the fat padding which had prevented him from paralyzing Po, there were still quite a few bruises. Tai Lung smirked.

 

"Anyway, there's so much you know, so many things you can do, and Master Shifu wouldn't have believed you'd be chosen as the Dragon Warrior if he didn't think you'd mastered all he had to teach. So you know what I think? I think you already were the Dragon Warrior."

 

Tai Lung's jaw dropped. This was absolutely unbelievable, as crazy and wild a theory as any he'd ever heard...and yet it was also compelling.

 

Po, meanwhile, was boring in relentlessly, as if the problem were a gigantic cake he were devouring. "I was able to defeat you 'cause I believed in myself, that I had the power in me all along, because the scroll told me I didn't need anythin' extra to help me win. But you believed you were meant to be the Dragon Warrior. You put all your heart into learnin' everythin' you'd need to be the best. Master Shifu believed in you—he only hesitated because of Master Oogway. You know what I think you should've done, when he said you had too much darkness in you?"

 

The snow leopard shook his head, quite lost in where Po was going with this.

 

"You should've gone out there and proven him wrong. Instead of demandin' the scroll or tryin' to steal it, you should have just kept continuin' bein' a hero. Because if you'd done that, and you did it because it was the right thing to do, not just to look good, there's nothin' anyone could have said against you. They'd have gladly handed you the scroll then."

 

He reached out and in a daring move rested his paw on Tai Lung's shoulder. The snow leopard flinched, but did not pull away. "But it's not too late. Just because you lost the chance once, doesn't mean it can't come back and choose you again. I thought I was rejected and unworthy because the scroll was blank. I was wrong. Maybe you are too, Tai Lung. Maybe instead of worryin' about a piece of parchment sayin' you're ready, you should be goin' out there, takin' action, and showin' you're already ready. Maybe there's even somethin' really special in store for you. I mean, the rest of the Furious Five all have their own styles of kung fu named after them. But you don't. And I think I know why. You've mastered _all_ their styles, haven't you?"

_Not exactly a stunning example of deduction, since he's fought me and trained with the Furious Five. But if he can already see their styles in mine, after such a short time of learning..._ He nodded again, silently.

 

"Then already you've done somethin' no one else has done. Who needs a Dragon Warrior when we've got Tai Lung? Everybody's got somethin' special to offer, that's what I've learned. So you don't need to go lookin' for it, or showin' it off for all the world to see. Just be yourself, and the rest'll fall into place." Po sat back, crossing his arms over his chest (a tight stretch), looking quite pleased with himself.

 

Taking a deep breath, the snow leopard sat forward and looked at Po, his mind reeling with all these possibilities. _Was_ it possible? Could he have been seeking something he already had, and that's why he couldn't find it? Could he make a mark for himself, and earn the respect and approval of the people—and especially Shifu—by becoming something unique, his own kind of kung fu master instead of the Dragon Warrior? Something better, perhaps? Something, again, he'd already discovered in himself? He had, after all, taken to the martial arts with shocking quickness as a cub...

 

"You know if you're right," he said at last, his voice tight and a growl still rumbling in his throat, "then everything I ever believed was wrong, and I caused all this suffering and hardship for nothing."

 

"We all make mistakes, Tai Lung. Believe me, I've made more than my fair share. All you can do is try and make up for 'em, and people will forgive you eventually. I know you're this big, muscular warrior, while I'm just a big, fat panda. But maybe if you try things my way for a while, you might be surprised how things'll change..."

 

For a long time, the snow leopard said nothing. He found he had lost his hatred of Po some time ago, once he started seeing the eerie similarities in their lives—how each could have turned out like the other if circumstances and choices had been different—and once he realized that the panda truly did wish to help him, cared about what happened to him.

 

But at the same time, the suggestions he'd made and the choices he'd offered were daunting. If he took them and followed them, his road ahead would be even more perilous and difficult than the one he'd already trodden, if for no other reason than his dark past continually rearing its head to threaten his present and future. There was no guarantee, even if things played out exactly as Po hoped, that he would ever have the greatness and respect he craved.

 

Even if he received it, there would always be the danger that his pride and arrogance would make him seek out more, too much, and he would backslide. And the Furious Five, especially Tigress, would always be there, just waiting for him to trip up so they could slay him. Might it not be better to just give up, let them return him to prison or perhaps exile somewhere else outside China?

 

No. Whatever happened, he would not be confined again. He would rather die than suffer that terrible fate once more.

 

And as for dying itself...he had fought too long and too hard for everything he was and wished to become. He was never one to give up, and never would be. _Tenacity would be my middle name, if I had one._ If he had been misshapen by Shifu and his own mad desires, then he would simply have to be reshaped. And if he retained some darkness in him, perhaps it could be turned to beneficial ends. All he knew was, he didn't want to curl up and expire. And he didn't want to be alone anymore.

 

Lifting his head, Tai Lung gazed at Po, then managed a small, wry smile. "Shifu put you up to this, didn't he?"

 

The panda smiled goofily. "He might have mentioned one or two things. But it was my own idea to talk to you. I figured you might need it...or could at least use a friend."

_I don't know if I'll go that far. Yet. But if you can truly teach me about the missing pieces of myself, and help me to truly prove that I am the greatest, best, but also noblest warrior in the Valley of Peace...and everyone else can come to see me the same...then you truly are worthy of the title Master._

 

Tai Lung said nothing. He was not the sort for gushing, emotional speeches—never had been, never would be. And he certainly wasn't about to admit intimate thoughts or how truly wrong he had been. So instead he decided to show it, as was his wont...through actions. Reaching down, his eyes on Po the whole time, he snagged the bowl of noodles and broth and lifted it into his lap. From there he raised it to his lips and drank.

 

More silence. Then, slowly, as if each word were dragged from him reluctantly, he spoke.

 

"This...is good."

 

Now it was Po's turn to chuckle. "See? You're learnin' already..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of points: I am well aware that there is an actual kung fu move called the Leopard Claw. I deliberately appropriated its name to use for Tai Lung's nerve strike because it just seemed far too apropos. Also, if it isn't obvious, I am operating under the conceit that while the kung fu styles represented by the Furious Five already exist, the Leopard Style has not, as yet, been invented or at least named as of the time of my story. This is for a very important reason, which will become clear later.


	3. Dreams and Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, elsewhere at the Jade Palace...

"You did _WHAT_?"

 

The viciously snarled roar echoed up into the exposed beamwork of the kitchen ceiling, making the dishes, crockery, silverware, and other utensils rattle on the shelves and in the cupboards. Po winced, squeezing his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to see the frightening expression on Tigress's face or the molten fury in her blazing eyes.

 

Trying very unsuccessfully to appear small, he clasped his paws behind his back and vacillated from one foot to the other. "Uh...well...you see...the thing of it is...Master Shifu said...seemed like the right thing to do...and I thought..."

 

"You thought what?" She stepped closer, looming over him despite their great difference in height, since he instinctively flinched and hunkered down before her as she approached. Her fur bristled, her stripes seeming to undulate and writhe in the lamplight. "A little heartfelt, encouraging pep talk and some of your noodles would magically turn him into a purring pussycat?"

 

Beside and slightly behind Tigress, the golden form of Monkey scratched his head, then spread his hands in acceptance, his expression quite amiable. "Well actually, Po _is_ a pretty good cook..." A gasp filled the air as the feline elbowed him in the ribs to cut him off, after which Monkey fell strangely silent.

 

As the infuriated kung fu master whirled back to face Po, however, she discovered to her shock that the panda had risen to his full height—which, truth be told, was actually much greater than her own, to the point it made her extend herself to the utmost tips of her pawtoes, squaring her shoulders proudly and glaring at him. But he seemed to have found the same well of strength as he had only yesterday when he defeated Tai Lung, for he would not back down, jaw set and eyes narrowed.

 

"Of course not, Tigress," he snapped vehemently. "I know you thought I was a chump when I came here, but I know better than that. There's no way this is gonna be that simple. But we gotta start somewhere, don't we?"

 

Tigress couldn't believe her ears. Even as she struggled to rein in her temper and refused to unsheathe her claws—as Shifu had always instructed her never to cheat so dishonorably in combat—she did ball her fist and poke Po, rather forcefully, in his oversized belly, making him step back a pace by sheer force of will.

 

"No. No, we don't. We don't have to do anything. If Master Shifu is smart, if he does the right thing instead of being deluded by sentiment, he'll send Tai Lung right back where he belongs—or better yet, execute him for his crimes! We certainly don't need to be waiting on that killer hand and foot, and anyone who tries talking to him, or listens to him, or especially believes him, is a fool!"

 

Chest heaving with ragged breaths, every muscle as knotted and rigid as after the most grueling and intense of workouts, she lunged at an inoffensive chair, tipping it over so it smashed a shelf to pieces in passing. She could not—would not—strike Po, but the more she thought of that smug, arrogant, sadistic bastard trying to pull off an act of contrition and humility, the more her aggression and rage burned out of control.

 

A soft, kind voice, but one laced with an undeniable firmness, spoke behind her. "But Tigress...isn't that what you always wanted Master Shifu to do for you? To care for you, love you, and think with his heart?"

 

She spun about, tail lashing wildly. It was, of course, Viper, perched on one of the kitchen chairs with her exquisitely tattooed, muscular coils wrapped around a brass stand-lamp for support. As she caught Tigress looking at her, she habitually began relaxing and tightening her body, looping and unlooping her tail—a serpent's way of showing nervousness.

 

"Yes," Tigress hissed. "Yes I did. And look where it got him! The last Shifu, or any of us, should do is let ourselves be blinded by emotion!"

 

"Yeah, like you're all nice an' Zen right now," Po retorted.

 

"Stop it," Viper commanded before Tigress could snarl and turn on the panda, and though she still sounded as gentle and sweet as ever, there was a core of iron in her tone. "You're not helping, Po. Although, Tigress...he's right, you know. You need to calm down. You're not seeing things clearly."

 

"And you are? You've always had a soft spot for the underdog. And you're far too forgiving," Tigress said firmly.

 

"And you aren't forgiving enough," Crane observed, speaking for the first time since Po had come to the kitchen and told them where he'd been and why.

 

Tigress narrowed her eyes at the bird. "Good. At least one of us isn't walking into this blinkered. Have none of you thought of the consequences?" Becoming more and more distressed, she began pacing restlessly around the room. "What if we trust Tai Lung, and he betrays the Jade Palace again? What if this time, he does kill Shifu...or everyone in the village?"

 

"Of course we've thought about it," Viper said, sounding both stunned and hurt that the feline could think otherwise. "But turn that around, Tigress: what if we don't trust him, when all he wanted was a chance to start over, to make amends? Deny him that, and Tai Lung's sure to stay just the way he is—why change when no one will allow him to? At the least, you'd be sentencing him to a life of loneliness and despair."

 

"It's what he deserves," Tigress sniffed, turning away and crossing her arms over her chest.

 

Crane snapped his bill shut to draw attention, his wing feathers rustling in agitation. "Look...we all know how you feel. In case you've forgotten, it wasn't just you he almost killed at the Thread of Hope. But I don't think you're being very objective here."

 

"Objective? Hah!" The striped feline swung about to sneer challengingly at Viper. "You want to give him a chance, don't you? You believe he means what he says, he has goodness in him?"

 

"Yes," the snake replied with determination. "Or at least, that he deserves the chance to prove it, one way or another."

 

Feeling more and more incensed and volatile the more she listened to her fellow masters speak, Tigress finally burst out with all her pent-up resentment and contempt. "And you're all a party to this—this madness? Monkey?"

 

The golden-furred simian, who'd been in the middle of noisily slurping broth from his bowl, looked up furtively, his lips still wet and dripping. "Eh...I'm with you, Tigress." He looked apologetically at the others and shrugged. "Maybe not so strong, but...he did do a number on us. Getting paralyzed again, maybe having heart stopped—not on my to-do list."

 

"Thank you," Tigress said with a huge sigh of relief, starting to relax. "At least one of you has sense." _Though not the one I wanted, or ever believed would_.

 

Crane, the very one she'd been thinking of, frowned at Monkey and, a bit ostentatiously, fluttered one wing, which was still splinted after the battle of the day before. "I was hurt just as badly as you were. But I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Tai Lung hasn't attacked either Shifu or Po since we brought him here—"

 

"Only because he's in too much agony to do otherwise," Tigress muttered.

 

"—and we should trust our master's judge of character," Crane continued as if he hadn't even been interrupted. "He was right to give the Dragon Scroll to Po, wasn't he?" The feline fumed, unable to dispute that point, while the panda blushed furiously and busied himself with quietly collecting dishes to be washed.

 

"And there had to be _some_ good in Tai Lung, for Master Shifu to love him in the first place," the bird pressed on relentlessly. "All we have to do is help it grow. Or, if you prefer, step back and let Shifu handle it."

 

"Ever the diplomat," Tigress snorted. It all sounded so fair and reasonable...but she didn't _want_ to be fair and reasonable. Those were in fact two things she could not be at this moment. For although she had calmed down a trifle, she could still feel her fury boiling inside—stirred to new life by Crane's thoughtless reference to Shifu's love...the one honor the red panda had never seen fit to give her, but which Tai Lung had received. The birthright _she_ should have had, which the snow leopard had abused and dismissed as irrelevant, worthless. She would have treasured it as the precious thing it truly was...she would have seen it for what it was, if she'd ever been granted it. Not like him.

 

Instead, no matter how much she'd striven to make Shifu proud...that wall would always be there, far too high to surmount, too thick and impenetrable to be smashed through. The more she thought about it, the more she hated Tai Lung for it.

 

It didn't help that she now felt ganged up on, surrounded by those who were supposed to be her friends and family. Her and Monkey on one side, Po and Viper on the other, with Crane riding the fence in the middle. _You see? Tai Lung's doing it already_ — _he's divided us. This is how it all starts. It can only end in blood and betrayal. It's what he does. It's all he knows and loves._ The only one left who hadn't chosen, who could still sway the balance, was—

 

But as she turned to look at the insect, in fact as all eyes turned to him, Mantis flinched, held up both front pincers, and scuttled back on his stool. "Hey, don't look at me! I'm staying out of this one."

 

Letting out another roar of pure frustration and anger, Tigress threw both paws in the air and shoved her chair in roughly against the table. "If that's the way it's going to be, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you!" Clenching her fist, she stared down at it as she cracked one knuckle after another, a fiendish gleam of wickedness in her golden eyes. "I'm going to go let off some steam in the training hall...then I'll give Tai Lung a piece of my mind, make sure he knows just what he's up against here."

 

Snapping her head up, she glared belligerently at each of the startled, blanching faces arrayed before her, her chin held high and her chest thrust out in pride and determination. "Don't _any_ of you dare try and stop me."

 

And with that, she stalked from the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

 

For a few moments, dead silence filled the room. Then Mantis observed lightly, "Well, that went well."

 

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

_The dream remained the same, even though he had not suffered from it for over fifteen years._

_Even after all this time, every detail, every sight and sound, was as vivid and burned into his memory as it was the day it had first occurred. He could pick out the delicate traceries of hanzi and ancient scrollwork on the temple walls, pillars, and tapestries...the cries of herons, loons, and partridges in the air...the scent of lotuses, cherry blossoms, and lemon trees on the breeze...and of course, the emotions made as plain as day on the faces of his masters._

_To one side, the short and diminutive form of the red panda Shifu, tiny hands clasped at the small of his back, the drooping white mustaches framing his face like the long fronds of moss hanging from the river trees, whiskers twitching in faint amusement...whiskers he had a vague memory of plucking from his cheeks when he was but a cub._

_On the other side, the venerable sage Oogway, his expression as vapidly distant and beatific as ever, his motions and words slower than sap but exuding a confidence, wisdom, and presence that had always earned Tai Lung's respect and deference if not his loyalty._

_Both of them had trained him well, had taught him all they knew, and had said on more than one occasion_ — _especially Shifu_ — _that he was the best student of kung fu they had ever instructed. To hear this from the panda, especially, made the snow leopard feel as if his heart would burst._

_He stood before them, prouder and more excited than he had ever been. Today was the day. The day he would be chosen. He would receive the Dragon Scroll, peruse its contents, obtain the unlimited power held within it. And once he was the Dragon Warrior, he would be all Shifu had envisioned he would be. Never again would he, or his father, have reason to doubt him. Never again would he be mocked or derided for being an orphan who did not know his family, or his station in life._

_And with his newfound power, he would defend the valley, the village, the countryside for miles and leagues in every direction. Why, he could even range across the length and breadth of China, defending it and its borders from invading armies, so that all would be safe and protected, able to sleep at night knowing that the noble Tai Lung would always be there to watch over them. He would be a hero, a legend. It would all begin today._

_Except, it never happened that way. No matter how many times he replayed the memories, or had this dream, it never occurred any differently. He always stood there, poised on the edge of greatness, beaming in the morning sunlight, eyes bright with promise, practically bouncing on the balls of his footpaws as he prepared to give the deepest, most respectful bow he had ever given._

_And then...then the turtle turned aside, bending his sinuous neck down to Shifu, and gently shook his head. Tai Lung's jaw dropped, and he looked swiftly from one master to the other, certain he had heard wrong, that there must be some mistake...he must be the Dragon Warrior, who else could it be? And surely Shifu would stand up for him, explain to Oogway how he must be mistaken, that this was his destiny..._

_But he didn't. His master...his father...had merely stood there, looking helplessly back and forth between his son and his own master. And then he had met Tai Lung's eyes_ — _and gave a weak, apologetic smile before turning away, following after Oogway. And as the snow leopard had watched them depart, his shoulders had slumped, his entire body felt as if it were made of lead...and he swore he could feel his heart breaking one by one into a thousand pieces..._

_The dream shifted. He sat in the local tavern, perched upon a stool and hunched over the bar, nursing a mug of corn liquor as the raucous noises of laughter, conversation, scraping chairs and pounding fists washed over him...wrapped in a dark, hooded cloak to conceal his identity as he did his level best to avoid being noticed, to simply mourn his loss and brood in silence._

_But someone recognized him, a slovenly boar who stank of sweat, grime, and swill, peering beneath his cowl with beady, unintelligent eyes until he caught sight of the leopard's jutting jaw and unique golden eyes shining in the shadows. Then he immediately started guffawing and chuckling deeply, mockingly, clutching his massive belly while he sneered in contempt._

 

" _Well look who we've got here! If it isn't the Dragon Warrior! Oh wait, I forgot...you got turned down, didn't you? What's the matter, Tai Tai? Weren't good enough to make the cut, huh?"_

_More laughter, this time coming from the surrounding patrons as they slapped their knees or each others' backs, tears of mirth coming to their eyes, some of them leaning back so far in their chairs they almost tipped onto the floor. Trying to exercise the self-discipline he'd been taught at the Jade Palace, he forced himself to refrain from speaking, to not take the bait, even as a low, ominous growl began rumbling in his throat and his fists began to clench around his mug._

_The boar was on a roll, though, and didn't stop there. "Don't know why you thought you would. Guess that'll teach you to try and be something you're not! Gotta accept the place you're born in, and be grateful. And why would we want someone like you defending the valley, anyway? You're just a pathetic orphan. Why don't you go back wherever you came from...kitten?"_

_That did it. After thinking he would finally make something of himself, become the warrior and hero he had always dreamed he would be...after having all that dashed away, to return now to this endless teasing and insulting which he had been so certain he would be free of from this day forward...adding that to the ignominy of losing the scroll, and the impugning of his own worth...it was all too much._

_Whirling about on his stool, he hurled his mug with all the power in his phenomenal shoulders, smashing it right into the boar's sneering tusked face. The pig flew backwards a full ten feet, crashing onto a table and snapping it in two, his cheekbones broken and blood pouring from his nostrils. Even as the table's occupants were surging to their feet, yelling and crying out for his pelt, the leopard let out a furious, venomous roar, one vicious and wrathful enough to chill anyone's blood in their veins._

_Wrenching his cloak free to give him freedom of movement, his muscles burgeoning with the fire of his uncontrollable rage...what had always been the bane of his training, what he had always struggled to channel into useful outlets in combat, now allowed free rein for the first time he could remember in ages...he leaped to his feet and launched himself across the bar toward his tormentor._

 

" _Pathetic? PATHETIC, am I? Then what does that make YOU! You aren't even worthy enough to lick the dirt off my pawpads! I'll show you what I am…I SHOULD be the Dragon Warrior, and I WILL be!"_

_Claws unsheathed, he savaged his prey like he had no opponent before, tearing and ripping and slashing through flesh left and right as the boar screamed and flailed, pinned beneath his great weight. He heard bone crunch when his fists met the idiot's snout, but that was not enough for him, it would never be enough, not until he utterly flattened his sneering face, drove every piece of his skull deep into his puny brain, until he was nothing but a battered pulp._

_He never got the chance, as soon other patrons were hauling him off of their friend_ — _presumably to administer their own beating to him. But they had forgotten he was the best kung fu master Shifu had ever trained. He was the Dragon Warrior, no matter what that senile turtle said otherwise, and he would prove it. Now. This instant._

_Forgotten were the soothing and gentle words of his master, promising that they would find a way to purge the darkness from his heart so that Oogway would change his mind and give his blessing...or else that they would find another role for him, another destiny that would suit his talents and prove his worth. Forgotten were the lessons that kung fu was meant only for defense, never to be used to harm or kill except in the extreme last defense of his own life or that of his charge...that he was to be calm and centered, at one with the universe so he could hear its call and listen to its voice, knowing just what to do and where he was meant to go._

_Instead he became a literal whirlwind of hatred and fury, his eyes blazing with a molten fire which struck fear into everyone who beheld them_ — _exactly as it should. Instead the snow leopard easily and effortlessly hoisted four of his attackers right off the floor, two to each arm, and in a violent, twisting movement starting at the waist hurled each of them slamming into each other, then across the room into still more tables. Free, he darted forward, wading into the mass of bodies surrounding the fallen boar, and suddenly the entire tavern dissolved into a free-for-all with him as the target._

_But he fought them all._

_Roundhouse kicks, snap-kicks, and fierce, aggressive punches in the Tiger style. Spinning hook-kicks, Mantis style. Amazing acrobatic leaps, flips, and backwards somersaults, Monkey style. Lashing sweeps and stinging blows of his stiffened tail, a form of Viper style. And an almost preternatural ability to sense when an attacker was coming at him from behind, so that he could strike sideways or at impossible angles to deflect broken bottles and meaty fists alike, Crane style. He knew and had mastered them all, and proved it again and again against every opponent who came before him._

_But he was so lost to his fearsome temper, and so focused on dealing out as much punishment as he could muster, that the snow leopard didn't pay attention to his surroundings. An enormous bull came lunging at him with a chair, and he smashed it to pieces with a few well-placed chops_ — _but this allowed his attacker to come body-to-body, grappling and stumbling with him around the room while others cheered and jeered from the sidelines._

_Neither of them noticed the bull's horns catch in the handle of a nearby lantern hung from a post. Neither of them saw it fly across the room and land in the straw coating the floor, igniting it in seconds. It wasn't until the roar of the flames drowned out his own snarls and growls, and the stench of the smoke started making him cough, that Tai Lung realized the danger and turned._

_The entire tavern was ablaze, the tendrils of orange and red licking and leaping up along the rafters, consuming the tables and chairs, burning through the beams to the floors above, exploding with gouts of increased heat and bursts of glass as bottles of alcohol were caught in the fire. Screams rent the air as those patrons who could do so fled into the village streets, and many were trampled in their haste to escape the horrific death which awaited them in the incinerating chimney the building had become._

_Tai Lung was not among them, as he was still struggling with the bull_ — _though not for long, as he had soon ducked down, catching hold of the crazed drunkard's legs and flipped him up over his outthrust hip, tossing him back across the burning room to crash right through the wall of the tavern, sprawling groaning and barely conscious face first in the cobbled street. Only then did the snow leopard take his leave of the inferno, pausing briefly to spit in the face of the boar that had started it all._

_Outside in the street, he stood with chest heaving and shoulders flung back proudly, inhaling deeply of the cool, crisp night air_ — _clearing his lungs of the intoxicating smoke and ash, but also drawing in the rush of power and dominance he felt flooding through his body. He had done it, finally made a name for himself. No one would ever dare to mock him again in the Valley of Peace, and soon his fame would spread. The tale of this night would never be forgotten, told in hushed whispers from faces taut with fear and awe, and others would be added to it as his exploits became more numerous and ever greater._

_Glancing around, he saw that the fire had leaped from one roof to another, that the whole street was joining the tavern in its roaring pyre, and even as he watched the sparks leaped to another street, and another...if the panicking citizens or aid from the Jade Palace did not arrive soon with a bucket brigade, the entire village would be lost. For a moment, his resolve weakened, and he stared in horror at what he had wrought. Only for a moment, before a sinister, wicked grin crossed his muzzle, and his fists clenched powerfully at his sides._

_What did he care if the whole valley went up in flames? None here had loved him, cherished him, or welcomed him, not as Shifu had. No one had respected or honored him either. But they would now, should they survive. None would ever doubt that he was to be feared and propitiated at every turn. All would acknowledge his true glory and destiny, and they would do so because he would claim what was rightfully his, what Oogway in his imbecility and weakness had tried to deny him._

_His eyes blazing a brighter and more disturbing gold than ever, as if the very flames around him had taken up residence within them, and his soul, Tai Lung turned and strode through the town square and the throngs of fleeing villagers, headed toward the stairs leading to the Jade Palace...vanishing into the fire..._

 

Gasping in terror, the snow leopard sat up with a jerk on his sleeping pallet, clutching violently at his heaving chest, his lantern-like eyes now wide with disbelief and anguish as he stared off into space, his gray-furred body soaked with the clammy layers of sweat that had suddenly sprung into being all over him.

 

For endless minutes, he could not stop shaking, and no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his paws over them, he could not banish the images dancing behind his lids. They haunted him, tormented him, and to his extreme annoyance, he heard soft whimpers and moans come from behind his lips as he firmly pressed them together.

 

Finally, after several more minutes of this shuddering activity, one more violent spasm ran through him and he allowed himself to lean back gently against the cold stone wall. Bringing his paws down from his face, Tai Lung trusted himself at last to open his maw, letting out another rasping breath. He knew if he could see himself, he would see an expression of stark fear on his face, as well as one of deep regret and sorrow.

 

He tried to shake it aside, to ignore it...it had all happened so long ago, over twenty years to be precise, and nothing could be done about it now. He had thought himself justified at the time...even if the fire had been unintentional and an accident, he still believed himself justified in meting out punishment on that wretched idiot who had started it all. And if he truly intended to make a new start of it, to follow Po's advice and accept Shifu's offer, he would only succeed by looking to the future, not dwelling on the past. _What is done, is done._

 

Still...he could not banish his memories with the wave of a paw. Especially now that he could not deny almost everything he had done, every act he had committed during his rampage, had been at best completely unnecessary and a waste...and at worst, truly wicked and reprehensible. When he had believed himself denied what was rightfully his, that he was the Dragon Warrior, he had been able to excuse, deny, or otherwise turn a blind eye to it—after all, they had merely been peasants, not even worth his notice.

 

Now that he was beginning to suspect everyone, from Oogway on down to Po, had been right...that even if the role of Dragon Warrior had been slated for him some distant day, he had not been ready for it all those years ago...and was still not ready for it now...now he could no longer hide from the atrocities he had committed.

 

This dream was not new to him. He'd first had it all those years ago, after the sage turtle had so casually and deftly, yet with impossibly blinding speed, completely unmanned him and left him collapsed on the temple floor, victim of a series of paralyzing nerve strikes. After he had been hauled away in the steel-bound prison cart, already locked securely in the shell-like restraint designed by Oogway himself, carried to Chorh-Gom and placed under the 'tender' cares of Commander Vachir...he had dreamt it that very first night, kneeling on his pinnacle in solitary confinement.

 

And he had dreamt it every night thereafter, for almost all of the first five years. He had wept often, the rhinoceroses' guffaws and chortles falling on deaf ears as he gave in to the surges of grief and self-loathing which had wracked his powerful frame, until tears stained his cheek fur and dripped onto the stone between his knees.

 

For even then, some part of him, that which had been trained by his father to be a noble, honorable, heroic warrior, had known he had done wrong...that the very darkness Oogway had prophesied had come to pass, and the temper which had always been his curse and bane, which he had struggled to control ever since early adolescence, had completely taken him over...and there was no going back. He had failed Shifu...failed them both, when he had sworn he never would.

 

A simple nod or smile from the red panda when he perfected a move, landed a punch, defeated the newest and most complex series of devices in the training hall...that was all he had ever sought, and should have been content with. Even the admittedly much rarer praise he'd received from Oogway, in his earliest years of study at the Palace, when he was first learning to read and devoured voraciously every scroll the turtle had placed before him, debating endlessly on philosophy and morality. He'd wanted that too.

 

 

But he had lost it all by his acts on that fateful day, and would never earn it again. That was why he cried.

 

Of course, over the years the tears had dried...the pain and despair had turned to resentment, then molten fury and white-hot rage. The dream had come less and less frequently, perhaps because instead of fearing and cringing from it he had begun to welcome it, to revel in the destruction and death he had caused, to relish watching all who had scoffed and denied him, laughed and turned their backs on him, losing everything that mattered to them...the same as had happened to him.

 

It had become more and more clear to his increasingly dark, cruel, and narrow mind that it was better this way, that Oogway had been a doddering has-been whose time was long gone and was vainly attempting to keep Tai Lung from supplanting him. That Shifu had not loved him enough to stand up for him, perhaps had not loved him at all and only saw the snow leopard as a means to achieve what he himself could not...that the panda had most likely already replaced him with new students and felt not even a twinge of remorse for his son's predicament.

 

And so he had hardened his heart, put aside the memories of cubhood and his training as the worthless baubles and trinkets they truly were. And the dream had eventually vanished, leaving him blessedly alone in the darkness he had welcomed...alone to plot and scheme the revenge that would one day be his.

 

Yet now it had returned. And he knew why. The Wuxi Finger Hold was even more powerful than he could ever have imagined. It had not only taken away his rage. It had also purged him of his instability, his insanity, all that had blinded his understanding and twisted him into a caricature of the loyal, devoted student he had once been, the corruption and envy and hatred that had tainted him for so long. Or at least, of enough of it to let common sense reassert itself, to allow reason to get through to him. His conversation with Po had done the rest. So now his guilt had returned, full force.

 

A fresh wave of grief assailed him, and he hurriedly wiped the tears away even as they ran down his cheeks.

 

After he finally felt sufficiently recovered, and could trust himself not to dissolve into weeping again like a pitiful cub, the snow leopard sat up and looked around his dimly lit cell. It was pitch black, barely illuminated by the moon and stars without—it had to be close to midnight. His stomach rumbled, his meal of the panda's delicious noodles long since consumed and gone, but there would be no one awake at this hour who could feed him.

 

No matter. Like so often in his life, he would suffer in silence. Whatever else he might have been mistaken about, he still considered pain one of the most equalizing and effective of teachers.

 

Then, as he shifted around on his pallet to try and find a better position which would not aggravate his bruised, aching back, a sudden sound came to him in the stillness—faint, but easily detected by his sharp ears…the sound of feet scraping softly against the stone floor of the corridor, breath rasping in someone's throat, and the metal bolt beginning to turn in the door.

 

Before he could even hazard a guess as to who would be visiting him this late at night, let alone why, the bolt suddenly shot home with a heart-stopping snap, the knob turned, and the door was flung open with shocking force to slam into the wall—hard enough to make dust and dirt sift down from the ceiling! Sitting up hurriedly and keeping his back to the wall, as much to protect it as to keep the intruder in his sights, Tai Lung instinctively raised both paws into a fighting stance...biceps bunching powerfully beneath his rosette-studded pelt, one leg extended and tensed to either swing out in a scissors kick or tuck underneath him to help him spring to his feet. Then he heard a venomous snarl that would chill the blood of most anyone—and admittedly, even he felt rather disturbed by it.

 

More disturbing still was the growl's identifiable pitch and tone...the recognizable silhouette looming in the doorway...and the very familiar, burning golden eyes not too different from his own, boring holes into him as they glared out from the furrowed brows and striped face of Master Tigress...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the scene in the dream with Tai walking into the fire seems familiar, it should: I was inspired by Sephiroth during the destruction of Nibelheim in Final Fantasy VII. Yes, at that point I feel Tai may have been that monstrous...


	4. Heart's Desire

Standing utterly still with her fists balled tightly at her sides, Tigress only refrained from leaping into the cell and pummeling the hated prisoner within an inch of his life by the strongest restraint she could muster. Simply resting eyes on him again, seeing his hulking form and those blazingly bright golden eyes...which she had last seen gazing coldly down at her after their owner had paralyzed and humiliated her at the Thread of Hope...it brought all of her hatred, pain, and fury flooding back.

 

Never mind that she had just spent the last several hours leaping through flaming rings without once singeing her fur, navigating the entire course of Wooden Crocodiles while barely breaking a sweat, and smashing yet another Iron Ox to pieces single-handedly. For the workout, while purging a great deal of the energy and aggression from her system, could never eliminate it all. Not where Tai Lung was concerned.

 

Never taking her gaze off of him for an instant, lest he spring at her with lightning speed to crush her to the floor and make good his escape, she ran her eyes up and down him from head to foot, observing every facet of him—for even the tiniest detail could be relevant in determining what his next move would be, what he was planning, whether there was even a shred of truth in his claims of having changed. That, and she dearly enjoyed seeing him laid low.

 

In that regard she was not disappointed. Tai Lung had already been prone upon his pallet when she entered, and though he had leapt to his feet he now stood as far away from her as the cell's dimensions would permit, pressed back into a corner in a half-crouch, half-kneeling position. And though his paws were raised in a battle stance and his legs angled to leap forward so as to kick her breastbone with stunning force, she couldn't possibly miss the alterations in his appearance and demeanor.

 

His fur...disheveled, dusty, still matted with clotted blood. One arm—the right one, the one held back against his body—was still badly bruised and battered, the finger which Po had gripped in the final moments of combat crooked at a slightly unnatural angle. Sweat was drying in his creamy white chest fur, as if he had either awoken very suddenly thanks to her barging in, or he had been involved in some strenuous exercise...trying to develop himself back to peak condition so he could make a breakout, no doubt. All of his muscular form heaving and flexing powerfully— _Stop that!_ —constantly on the verge of fight or flight, while a harried and satisfyingly distressed look sat upon his blocky, intense features.

 

For a moment she found herself lingering inexplicably on the way his sweat trickled downwards to delineate the deep cleft between his well-rounded pectorals and the chiseled outline of his abdominals, and with an inarticulate snarl of disgust and self-loathing, she slammed the door closed behind her—careful even in her fury not to accidentally lock herself in with him—and stepped several paces closer. To her delight, the snow leopard actually seemed to step back from her, as close to cringing as he would ever come.

 

"So," she growled with a throaty, gloating purr. "How the mighty have fallen! You were supposed to be a legendary and phenomenal warrior, the greatest Shifu ever trained. None were your parallel or equal in all the Valley of Peace. Everyone feared you, respected you, hated you, fled from you. And now look at you...look at what you've become."

 

For a moment something very dark and frightening flickered in the depths of those half-lidded eyes, quickly squashed and vanishing before she barely had time to see it. Rising from his crouch, the other feline lowered his paws nearly to his waist, though clearly ready to raise them again if she attacked him. When he spoke it was in that same velvety smooth, confident drawl that alternately made her quiver with desire and a nameless dread. "Hello to you, too, Master Tigress. Fancy meeting you here."

 

Tigress came to a halt, so startled that she almost swallowed her growl into a querulous mew. She stared at him in disbelief, eyes narrowing as she searched for some trick, some subtle intonation or inflection that would suggest deception, a false veneer of politeness to mislead her until he was ready to strike. But it wasn't there. What was going on here? This made no sense! He should have attacked her on sight...especially after those mortal insults she'd flung at him...

 

Trying to shake away her confusion, she recovered her stride and shook her head, smirking. "Don't try and play coy with me, Tai Lung. We both know it's all just an act. If there's one thing all the stories about you make clear, it's your fiery, uncontrollable temper. You must be simmering right now...you must want to smash my face into the wall right now until I'm spitting out blood and fangs. Don't you? Come on! There's no need to hide who you are with me. I won't tell anyone." She grinned even broader, showing off those fangs in question.

 

But the snow leopard didn't move, didn't even twitch. He didn't even let out a low and venomous snarl. Instead he flicked one black-tipped ear and shook his head, as if judging her heart and finding her sadly lacking. "I'm not hiding anything, my dear. Terribly disappointing, I know, but you'll just have to get used to that. And I wouldn't dare damage the fair petals of a blushing bloom of the Orient such as yourself."

 

The stilted tone of sarcasm in his words was quite obvious, but there remained just enough hint of genuine compliment as to leave her feeling even more confused—and vaguely offended. While hardly averse to being recognized for her feminine beauty, it was also certainly not the extent of her character, and any who emphasized it to the detriment of her fighting skills and warrior's heart were blind...as well as setting themselves up for a truly ignominious fall.

 

"Funny," she managed to retort at last, "that's not what your actions were saying at the Thread of Hope the other day."

 

Finally, she seemed to have struck a nerve with that one. Flinching visibly, the leopard gritted his teeth, grimaced, and looked away—surprisingly letting down his guard by taking his eyes off of her for many silent moments. "Touché," he murmured. Could that be...regret in his voice? Surely not. He was much more of a consummate actor and deceiver than she had ever given him credit for. Apparently there was more to the murderer than mere violence and slaughter.

 

Deciding to assume, at least for the moment, that Tai Lung was not about to leap upon her in a frenzy of bloodlust, Tigress crossed her arms over her chest and regarded him with one eyebrow raised. Something more would be needed to rattle his cage.

 

"Hmm. You act as if you're civilized and urbane, Tai Lung. But you're not, and you never will be. Not after what you did, all those years ago. And what's truly sad is, you _could_ have been great. Instead you failed because you're so damned limited."

 

She dared to move close enough to glare right up into his down-turned face, and although it wasn't what she was going for, she was nevertheless encouraged to see contrition and shame beneath those heavy brows. "Your impulsive nature...all that rage and strength you set such store by...Po used it against you in your battle, you know. He knew _just_ how to manipulate you. Over thirty years of kung fu experience—and it was all wasted, because you didn't think clearly, or try another approach."

 

Truly starting to warm up to her subject, Tigress allowed more and more disdain to enter her voice. For while, quite obviously, Tai Lung's inability to control his temper and Po's cleverness in exploiting this weakness were both quite fortunate for the valley, the townsfolk, and Shifu himself, nothing angered or earned her disapproval more than a pathetic performance in combat—especially one caused by such an undisciplined character flaw.

 

"You never thought, only acted. And from what Master Shifu has told us, you were the same way when he trained you. You've...learned _...nothing_." With each word she actually poked Tai Lung hard in the chest. "You'd be a disgrace to the Jade Palace even if you hadn't betrayed it."

 

The snow leopard's entire colossal frame shook, though whether with barely repressed fury or a shuddering recognition of the truth, she couldn't tell. Then he looked up...and she was startled all over again to see acceptance, and even agreement, in his eyes.

 

"You're absolutely right," he said simply. "That is why the panda is a kung fu master, and the true Dragon Warrior. As for me...you can be certain I've learned my lesson, and won't be letting my rage control me ever again."

 

She didn't believe it, not for an instant. Not just the part about reining in his temper, which in her mind was manifestly impossible, but also his acknowledgment of Po as both a kung fu master and the Dragon Warrior. The snow leopard had only shown ridicule and cruel mockery toward Po for his size and build—something the panda had of course not stated aloud, but she could read between the lines as well as anyone. The fact this was only slightly more vicious and hateful than how she herself had first treated Po was something she would not allow herself to think about...

 

In any case, more important was how Tai Lung's entire reason for living, for training, for fulfilling his own self-appointed destiny, was the Dragon Scroll. To believe, even after being defeated so humiliatingly, that he could have abandoned such a lifelong dream just like that...

 

Laughing derisively, Tigress began to pace back and forth in front of the prisoner, still keeping him trapped in his corner. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! Ever since you were a cub, you've had this unhealthy obsession with being the Dragon Warrior, and though we all might wish otherwise, you're never going to let it go." This all had to be a smokescreen, hiding his true intentions.

 

"You may have fooled Po and Master Shifu, but I know what you _really_ are. You can pretend all you like that you've changed, that you're an honorable and good-hearted warrior. But you're no such thing. You're just going to take the scroll again and turn on us at the first opportunity. I guarantee it."

 

Now, for the first time, she finally got a rise out of him. Balling his fists so tightly that he mistakenly jabbed his aching, twisted finger into his palm pad, making him wince openly, Tai Lung rose to his full height and loomed over her, nostrils flaring, but she refused to be intimidated.

 

"Of course I wanted the scroll—how could I wish anything else, with Shifu filling my head with dreams and pumping me up full of pride and overconfidence all my life, making me think I was destined to be the Dragon Warrior and had no other purpose?" The snow leopard rolled his eyes and laughed bitterly. "Shifu even named me 'Ultimate Dragon'—with a name like that, what else was I supposed to do when I grew up, read tea leaves?"

 

In spite of herself, Tigress snorted in laughter at the thought of the rampaging snow leopard indulging in such a genteel pastime as that. But Tai Lung didn't allow her time for good humor, even if she'd been inclined to relax and let down her guard around him enough to make it possible. Because he continued to press his point, stabbing a finger toward her own chest though he did not take even one menacing step toward her.

 

"No, I'm not going to steal the scroll again—there's no point, since it has already taught me all it could, all I'm capable of learning from it. Any other lessons there are to learn, I must learn on my own."

 

Growling, she batted his paw away and shook away the lingering traces of sympathy she'd almost caught herself feeling, scoffing openly. "Right. Now why do I not believe you? Let me make one thing clear, if I haven't already. You cannot be trusted, certainly not by me. If we let you stay here and train with us, you will stab us in the back and kill all of us in our sleep after you've learned all you can from us—and that's if we're lucky...if, in your pride, you even allow yourself to be taught by us."

 

Unexpectedly Tai Lung stepped back a pace, and the look on his broad face and bony, low-slung brows was one of naked hurt and open insult. Tigress could not believe he'd have the gall to take offense at her not trusting him, since there was nothing else even remotely upsetting in her words…his pride and his bloodthirstiness were legendary and undeniable.

 

Which was why her jaw actually dropped when the snow leopard glared at her in true anger, rather than the typical demonic rage she expected from him. "I already know you won't believe this, but I never kill indiscriminately," he said, his voice pitched low and strained, even diffident. "It wouldn't be honorable."

 

Hearing such a bald-faced, blatant, horrible lie coming from Tai Lung's mouth so enraged Tigress that she would have launched into him right then and there, never resting until she had bruised and beaten him to a pulp. Except that the snow leopard didn't give her a chance, cutting across her rising snarl with one of his own. Holding up his good paw, he began to tick off points on his fingers.

 

"What happened all those years ago, when I went on that rampage in the valley, was simply an accident, at least at first. And the rest took place when I gave in and truly unleashed my temper. As you're all so fond of saying, I was mad with desire—quite literally, and so was not myself. If I had been, it all would have turned out quite differently.

 

"Those rhinos of Vachir's? I had no choice in the matter, it was them or me, and how else was I supposed to escape Chorh-Gom? And as for you…you know very well that there were many times I could have killed the Five if I really wanted to. But I didn't." He crossed his arms in finality, looking quite pleased with himself.

 

Tigress, however, didn't know whether to laugh or roar in frustration, and not only because of his supposedly honorable conduct; the fact he dared to claim he'd had no choice in killing so many members of the celebrated, incomparable Anvil of Heaven would infuriate her even more if it weren't completely in-character for one of his ego and pride. Even if no one else in the Valley even thought of them any more, let alone honored them, once they'd vanished from the public eye for twenty years, she knew just how stunning and awe-inspiring they had been as warriors. They did not deserve their fate simply because they'd been made jailers, and even if more had survived than Tai Lung let on, he could easily have spared even more if he'd truly wanted to.

 

Turning her back on him—as much to prove how little a threat she saw him as to register her disapproval of his self-defense—she did not bring any of this up however, as she knew he'd have a pathetic prison sob story to regale her with, just as he had a carefully contrived comeback for everything else. Instead she snapped over her shoulder, "There are plenty of reasons why you might have chosen to spare us, and none of them have anything to do with mercy or fair play. To show your contempt for us, for example. To send a message to Shifu how beneath your notice his new students are. Or as our master himself said, to make us all afraid of you. Take your pick."

 

Softly, Tai Lung said, "I saved your life, you know."

 

She whirled around and stared at him in consternation. "What are you talking about?"

 

"At the Thread of Hope, when you fell off the bridge and grabbed hold of my paw."

 

Tigress snorted derisively. "I only fell because I was fighting with you! And you didn't exactly grab my paw or try and pull me up—in fact if it hadn't been for Crane, I'd have fallen into the gorge and be dead right now. Or did you forget twisting those ropes around my neck? Some hero."

 

The snow leopard flared his nostrils, clenching and relaxing his fists as if he sought a target to pummel. Closing his eyes, he seemed to be counting silently to himself, something which would have amused her if it didn't suggest he was very close to resorting to type and attacking her…vindication, proof that he truly hadn't changed, but something which put her in grave danger should he turn on her when she had no one else to back her up…

 

Opening those golden eyes again, he answered her with words bitten off between his fangs, yet still lacking in true rancor. "I didn't deliberately throw you over the edge and make you fall, either, Master Tigress. And when your claws dug into me, I could have shaken you off rather easily. But I didn't." He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Besides, I wasn't the one who threw the first punch, you know. If memory serves me correctly, that was you—after I called the _panda_ the worthy opponent I'd been waiting my whole life for."

 

The larger feline smirked at his implication, and Tigress couldn't hold back the soft snarl of resentment...even as she knew he had her pegged. In that moment, at least, she'd allowed her jealousy of Po to trump logic. And even if she could turn his words back on him by suggesting he'd goaded her into attacking so he could claim the moral high road, or that she'd only reacted to the overt threat to the Dragon Warrior, the fact was none of this exactly painted him as a lunatic or even dishonorable. Just fiendishly clever.

 

Meanwhile, Tai Lung was spreading his paws somewhat helplessly. "Perhaps this wasn't the best example. But I was fighting for my life, not being deliberately malicious or attempting to take your lives. All I wanted was the Dragon Scroll, and you chose to place yourselves in my path. You were obstacles to me...not carrion to be slain. There would have been no honor in killing you."

 

"Oh really?" She tried to inject as much venom into her voice as she could, but was finding it harder to do than she cared to admit, for truth be told, somewhere in the back of her mind she was beginning to see merit in Tai Lung's words. Against her will, and with the rest of her kicking and screaming the entire way, she was finding sense and truth in her enemy's reasoning.

 

As a kung fu master with years of training behind her, she knew precisely what various attack forms looked and felt like, and more importantly, what their intended results were. And none of the moves he had pulled at the Thread of Hope had been intended to be fatal. While many of his blows _could_ have severed the spine, smashed the skull, or broken and dislocated limbs severely, none of them had been carried to their full potential to do so.

 

Most of the danger from the encounter had come from its precarious location. Indeed, in many ways it seemed as if, for all the positive _jing_ he was expending in defeating them, Tai Lung's only crime had been overzealousness in reaching his goal. He had wanted the Dragon Scroll, and would never have fought them if they hadn't placed themselves in his way...

 

But that reminded her of another angle of attack. Shaking off these traitorous thoughts, she stalked past the prisoner to pace along the moss-covered wall again, as if by doing so she could wear her opponent and his justifications into the ground with her measured tread. "And what about Po? Don't tell me you never tried, or wanted, to kill him. He had the honor you always wanted, and would never have. He made a fool of you in front of the whole valley. And you said it yourself, your battle with him would be legendary."

 

"Legendary battles don't always off the participants," Tai Lung replied dryly. "I intended to defeat him, not to kill him. Not at the start, anyway. The panda just stood in my way as well. All I wanted was the scroll...it was only after I found out it was blank, and thought it was a lie, that everything I'd worked for had been for nothing, that I turned murderous...and at that point, I'm not sure I was sane anymore."

 

"That's always your excuse, isn't it?" Tigress paused in the lonely emptiness of the silvery moonlight spilling down through the cell window, its stark beams picking out the razor crescents of her flexing claws but leaving her face in disturbing shadow. "You were not yourself, you'd lost your mind, you can't be held responsible for your actions. Well guess what? That's not going to cut it with me, Tai Lung. You had a choice. We all have choices.

 

"If you truly want me to believe you've changed...if you truly intend to...then you need to be man enough to face what you've actually done. Not your insanity, not the machinations of others, not the abuse and betrayal heaped on you by Shifu and this valley. Only you."

 

That should have been enough, but she had to dig the knife in deeper. He had to know the truth of what he'd become, of why she hated him...and if anything would push him back into a wild and vicious rage, would prove he hadn't changed, would make him show his true self, it was this.

 

Coldly, bitterly, she snapped, "And even if you're right, even if you truly never meant to kill us or Po, you _did_ try and kill Shifu...Po told me what happened, what he saw at the Hall of Warriors. If you'd spared him at all up to that point, it was because you needed him to use Master Oogway's staff and fetch the scroll for you. Once you learned it had already been taken, and you didn't need Shifu anymore, you were going to kill him. Your own father! Don't deny it."

 

His back was still turned to her, massive shoulders heaving and flexing with the sheer power of the emotions he had to have been feeling, surging with his futile attempts to restrain them before he finally lost it completely and attacked her. She could see the incredible strength contained in him, and had to shove down the feelings of admiration and desire she'd felt when she first laid eyes on the snow leopard. He was filth, pure evil...and if he possessed exactly the kind of stamina, determination, skill, and drive to succeed that she would wish in a mate...that she carried within her own heart...it only made his betrayal all the deeper and crueler, made him even more anathema to her.

 

But just as she expected him to fulfill her low expectations of him, she noticed something—and had to blink and rub her eyes to make certain it wasn't her weariness or a trick of the light confusing her. His shoulders were still rising and falling, shaking even...but not with anger or fury. It almost looked as if...he were _sobbing_. _Impossible!_

 

After a few moments, Tai Lung slowly turned around—and indeed, his eyes were swollen and puffy, and she could even see tears in them, trickling down to stain his cheek fur. She couldn't hold back her gasp.

 

"You're right, Master Tigress," he said at last, simply, but with conviction and remorse. "I have been blaming others for my own misdeeds for far too long. It's time I accepted the truth and took responsibility. It was my temper that raged out of control, no one else's. Master Oogway may have made the prophecy, but the darkness was still in me. And as for Shifu..." The snow leopard stared down at his paws, as if they belonged to someone else, as if he could not believe what they had done, or almost done.

 

"It's true. He dared try and apologize for all the years of suffering he'd put me through, and in my pride all I could see was how he had used me—he was arrogant enough to believe he could mold me into the Dragon Warrior, something he could never be, and so live his life vicariously through me, his son...I saw red; what would you have done? He had failed me, turned me into a monster, stolen my birthright, denied me any chance at greatness or a normal life...and all he could say was he was _sorry_?"

 

The tears in his eyes now were ones of rage and fury at last, but Tigress, staring into his ravaged face, could not congratulate herself for causing them. All she could see was the true, naked longing and suffering in someone she had always believed incapable of human emotions.

 

"I'd been ready to kill him," he said heavily, shoulders slumping in resignation. "But Po stopped me...and now, I am glad of it. Because even though he made mistakes, he was still my father and still loved me. Even when I refused to believe he could, that no one could, because I was not worthy if I wasn't the Dragon Warrior. And if I had killed him...it would have been the worst mistake I ever made."

 

Tigress didn't know what to say to that. Everything she thought was true, everything she had believed about Tai Lung, was being torn to shreds before her eyes, leaving her without a ledge to stand on, and making it more and more glaringly obvious that she had been mistaken. This was not the villain she had fought at the Thread of Hope, or the ravening killer who had nearly destroyed the Valley of Peace years before her birth, stories of whom she'd heard from geriatric villagers still terrified by that long ago day or from Shifu himself.

 

She did not want to believe he could have changed, and so quickly, because it would leave her with no one to pin her fury upon. But the more he said, the more evidence she gathered, the more it seemed he was not the same anymore. What was most clear was that, against all logic and reason that would suggest otherwise, the snow leopard still loved Shifu.

 

Trying for another spike of nastiness, she stepped back and peered up at him suspiciously, fingers drumming on her striped arms. "You have a funny way of treating those you claim to love."

 

But Tai Lung saw right through her attempt to deflect him, and even with penetrating insight realized something she'd been determined would stay buried in her heart, where no one else could ever see it or bring it out into the light of day. Wiping away his tears, and seeming surprisingly indifferent to her having witnessed him when so vulnerable, he managed a small, rueful smile. "I understand, Tigress...you love Shifu, too. That's why it hurts you so, to see him in such pain. That's also why I am so grateful Po stopped me from doing what would be truly unforgivable, irredeemable..."

 

After several more silent moments of sniffling, the snow leopard dried his cheek fur, coughed uncomfortably and cleared his throat in embarrassment, then looked up to her with a rather sheepish and oddly shy grin on his muzzle. Tigress had to fight the urge to rub her eyes in an attempt to banish the image. "In fact, you know...the two of us are rather alike...proud and stubborn, great warriors who only wished to be the best, both wanting Shifu to love us. Unless I'm mistaken, we both even believed we would be the Dragon Warrior."

 

Leaning back against the wall, casual and relaxed as he'd been that day at the bridge, he added almost matter-of-factly, "I admire you...you're the only one who's ever stood up to me so bravely. And you may not be the Dragon Warrior, but you almost beat me. No one's ever done that before...well except Po, of course." For a moment his ears flattened to his skull sullenly, only to prick up again attentively.

 

But she wasn't paying attention to such visual cues anymore, for as soon as the snow leopard had begun listing the things they had in common, and implying as well as outright stating that the two of them were kindred spirits, the rage which had finally been quenched to a soft simmer within her had been stoked up to blaze hotter, fiercer, and more viciously than ever inside her heart, ready to explode and engulf Tai Lung.

 

What made it even worse, what truly raised her ire, was that in an insidious way, she could see he was right—the two felines _were_ like dark mirrors of each other, scarily alike. If she had made different choices in her life, if she had been less in control of her own fiery temper, if she had not learned discipline from Shifu at the orphanage to get a handle on her strength and rage, if she had been less selfless and more arrogant...she could have easily become him. If she had let her anger at Po being chosen as the Dragon Warrior instead of herself consume her, if she had turned to hatred instead of determination to prove herself all the more worthy... She shuddered at what might have happened.

 

That didn't make her feel inclined to trust and reach out to Tai Lung, however. It made her even more inclined to rear back and pull away from him. And the way he praised her, complimented her, suggested an almost intimate connection between them—it only made her all the more disgusted, not only with him but with herself...for she could feel her heart pounding faster and her pulse rising in spite of herself, as a part of her uncurled like a purring kitten, enjoying the recognition and inordinately pleased that one as skilled, competent, and legendary as the great and feared Tai Lung could consider her worthy of notice and respect.

_No! This was wrong!_ She had to resist his dark allure. Why was it the nature of evil to be so vile and tempting?

 

Balling her fists again, Tigress stalked as close as she dared, until her face hovered only a whisker's breadth away from his, until she could see every hair of rosette-studded fur but he could also see the unattractive veins of her bulging golden eyes. Resisting the powerful strength of his musky scent at those close quarters, she hissed with more hatred than she ever remembered feeling in her life, as molten as the fires of the mountains far to the east. "How dare you compare us...how dare you say we're anything alike. I refuse to believe we have anything in common!"

 

Unsheathing her claws, she splayed them suggestively beneath his muzzle, narrowing her eyes to thin slits. "I will be watching you like a hawk. If you cross the line even once, if you backslide, if you seem to be doing anything at all two-faced or evil, I'll be right there to stop you. And I will _kill_ you."

 

To her utter shock, Tai Lung actually smiled. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

 

"What do you mean?" she snapped, even more wary. "Do you have a death wish or something? Because I'm never going to trust you."

 

Something seemed to flicker again in Tai Lung's eyes—frustration, anguish, and a growing resentment. Why it should matter to him that she did not trust him and never would, that she refused to believe he could change, she didn't know. It couldn't be that he meant what he said, and actually cared about her. It had to be that he saw her as his biggest obstacle to being accepted at the Jade Palace, so that he could worm his way into everyone's hearts and then betray them again. Yes, that had to be it...

 

Tai Lung's voice was still as infernally calm and controlled as ever. "Not at all. Simply this: I know I need someone to watch me, and make sure I do not falter. Po is too good-hearted to do what needs to be done, Shifu is too willing to forgive, and none of the others are strong enough to stop me should I rampage again." The snow leopard spread his paws in supplication, his voice imploring.

 

"You can help me, Master Tigress...you can save me from myself. If the darkness does take me again, and I have to be stopped, I wouldn't want anyone else to do the deed." He paused, and then a low humorless chuckle sounded in the shadows. "Besides, you know what they say about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer..."

 

She bared her fangs in that disturbing predator's grin again, flexing her claws a few more times before finally retracting them into their sheaths and lowering her paw. "Indeed I do...but you're not helping your case. I don't know..."

 

It seemed too good to be true, so it probably was. Tai Lung was practically giving himself into her custody, making not only his freedom and his acceptance at the Jade Palace dependent on her good will and judgment, but even placing his life in her paws, too. There must be a catch to this. Granted, if this were all merely an elaborate and clever ploy, she would need the help of Po, Master Shifu, and the rest of the Five to take him down...but still, the scourge of the valley would then be no more.

 

On the other hand, if he were honest and truthful, and the snow leopard were truly trying to change, the responsibility of ensuring that he did so...the wisdom to help him accomplish this monumental task, and to know if it was progressing properly...his entire fate and Master Shifu's peace of mind and soul...all of these things were borne squarely, and solely, upon her shoulders. Could she handle such a burden? And indeed, who else would she trust with making sure Tai Lung had changed, and killing him if he had not?

 

Even as she pondered, however, the snow leopard smirked at her, and added off-handedly, with a suggestively sly tone, "Hmmm...or could your reluctance be because the real reason you'll always be keeping an eye on me...is because you can't keep your eyes _off_ me?"

 

If it had been anyone else, any other time, she might have laughed it off as what it might have been intended as, a rather inappropriate joke made to lighten the mood and relieve the tension in the cell, which had become thick enough to cut with a _dao_ saber. But with this man, in this place, Tigress refused to be lenient or forgiving. Because whether or not he had truly changed, or wished to, she could not deny his joking words...since secretly...she knew they were right.

 

For whatever reason, whether his rugged handsomeness and well-built body that appealed to her through animal magnetism alone, his silky voice that could stir and stroke her innermost fibers like the strings of a _zheng_ , or because part of her really did believe in his sincerity, she found herself unable to resist thoughts of him. Her mind told her he was a twisted, evil, sadistic creature who would sooner kill her than look at her, or that if he were truly turning over a new leaf any relationship would be counterproductive, would compromise her objectivity. But her body told her something else.

 

And that, the fact that what had always obeyed only her own will was now actively rebelling against her, was what finally made her lose it entirely.

 

Letting out a full-throated, thunderous, earth-shattering roar that again brought soil sifting down from the ceiling, as well as made the blocks of the walls shift as the temple shook to its foundation, Tigress launched herself at Tai Lung. Even now, she did not use her claws, but in all other respects she completely and violently gave him every ounce of her hatred, fury, and pent-up desire.

 

The snow leopard only had time for widened eyes, a gasp, and a hurried throwing up of his paws as a barrier between them before she slammed into him—pummeling, pounding, battering his chest and arms, trying to put a dent in those rock-hard muscles so she could get at the heart and soul inside, make him _hurt_ , make him hurt as _she_ was hurting.

 

But to her chagrin and increasing fury, after the initial momentum of her charge and the element of surprise had sent Tai Lung tumbling back into the wall, he had risen easily to his feet—and now, no matter how hard she tried, she could not knock him backwards again or topple him to the floor. Like a mountain peak that would not bow before the wind, or a mighty tree that refused to sway because its root systems ran so deep, the snow leopard was an immovable wall, seemingly unhurt by anything she did to him.

 

Which only made her try all the harder, punching his gut and his sides, slamming her shoulder into his chest to bruise, elbowing him to knock the wind out of him, _any_ thing to leave a mark. Stoic and unwavering, even looking rather sad and regretful, he stood unmoved, and Tigress let out a shriek. She didn't want his pity!

 

Finally, after several eternal-seeming minutes of this treatment, Tai Lung let out a grunt of pain and reached down with annoying ease to latch onto first one of her wrists, then the other—catching her in the middle of her abusive attack, trapping her limply against his body. Dryly, but not without a touch of gentleness, he said, "All right now, that's enough. That was starting to hurt."

 

"You _bastard_ ," Tigress snarled, longing to rip his eyes from their sockets, his lying tongue from its root—or was it to wipe away his tears, to kiss those warm lips? What was _wrong_ with her? "How can you say such things... _damn_ you, Tai Lung!"

 

"I'm sorry, Master Tigress," he said, and for a wonder he actually sounded as if he meant it. "I spoke out of turn, that was unbecoming of me. But I meant what I said before. You're the only one I trust to help me. I know it will be hard for you—"

 

"Hard for me?" she spat, still struggling to get free of his grip. "Do you have any idea what you did? You took Shifu's love from me! He loved no one— _no one!_ —but you, and after you he would love no one else. You stole that from me, all I ever wanted from my teacher, and you expect me to _help_ you?"

 

Tai Lung visibly winced, his face almost seeming to cave in with disbelieving agony, and he turned away as if he couldn't bear to look her in the eye anymore. "So...I threw away his gift, thinking I had never received it...and cost you the same thing I always wanted. Life isn't fair, is it?" Slowly, he released her wrists and backed away, leaning against the wall and then sliding down it to slump on the floor.

 

His words, so similar to her own thoughts in the kitchen, were enough to hold her back, and Tigress stood staring down at him...slowly feeling the adrenaline bleed out of her limbs, sapping her strength and leaving her feeling wrung out and overcome by weariness...and shame. What would Master Shifu say if he had seen her just then? Or worse, Master Oogway?

 

Tentatively, grudgingly, she rasped a reply. "No...no, it isn't. Not to me...and not to you."

 

Looking up at her with some surprise, the snow leopard nodded slowly. "But that's no reason to give up. I refuse to. Shifu was wrong to raise me to be the Dragon Warrior, and he was wrong to turn on me when I was refused the scroll. But there had to be a reason I was left on his doorstep, if not for this." His voice turned sardonic, resigned. "Master Oogway always said, there are—"

 

"No accidents," Tigress finished the aphorism with him, still truculent but also with a stirring of thoughtful wonder. _Could_ there have been a reason none of them, except perhaps the old turtle, had known? Was it too late for Tai Lung to find it...if she could find it in her heart to give him a chance to do it?

 

"I mean to find it," the snow leopard continued, as if reading her thoughts, "and Shifu's promised me he'll help me do so. It will be hard for me, too. But I have to be strong..." He smiled in a way she'd never seen from him before—not malicious, smug, or vindictive, but genuinely approving and proud. "And I know you will be, too."

 

Tigress put a paw to her forehead, her mind in a whirl. Was anything what she had thought? Could Po and Master Shifu be right about him? Oogway had been so insistent on the darkness within Tai Lung...but just because that prevented him from becoming the Dragon Warrior, did that mean it could not still be put to some useful and noble purpose? And Oogway would be the first to make some cryptic statement about looking beneath the surface of a still pond to see the true beauty of the world swimming in its depths. Perhaps things weren't what they seemed, perhaps Tai Lung's interpretation of events had as much validity as her own.

 

Yet to admit she was wrong was something her pride would not allow, certainly not in front of the snow leopard. And after all, how could such a terrible murderer, such an insane, unstoppable force with seemingly no conscience and an endless bloodlust, have changed so completely, so quickly? Unless the Wuxi Finger Hold had powers even she did not suspect...was that why Master Shifu was so willing to trust? And he had always taught her that mercy and forgiveness were virtues of the true kung fu warrior...

 

The scales tipped back and forth inside her head, and she could not decide. Not now. Not with so much at stake, not when she was so confused, angry, and torn apart inside. Not when she didn't even know what she wanted or believed anymore...

 

"I...I can't...I need to leave. I need time to...think." Cursing herself for how inarticulate and juvenile her stammering sounded, Tigress began to slowly back away toward the door...away from Tai Lung. Not because she feared him or what he might do to her if she turned her back on him, but because she feared what _she_ might do or say if she stayed any longer.

 

Wryly turning up the corners of his mouth, the snow leopard nodded companionably, even as he looked around to encompass his surroundings. "You're not the only one. But take all the time you need. It doesn't look like I'll be going anywhere."

 

"Damn right you're not," she retorted instinctively, her dander rising again—made even worse by the amused look on Tai Lung's face, as if he'd fully expected her answer and derived great enjoyment from her continued resistance. _He likes his prey to struggle before he strikes, does he? Well whatever happens...no matter what he may become...I swear, he'll be in for the struggle of his life where I'm concerned!_

 

And with those stubborn thoughts to batter down her recalcitrant heart, Tigress managed to get hold of the doorknob behind her back, wrench the door open, and slam it into place again once she stood in the hallway. A swift thunk of metal as she shot the bolt home, and he was locked in again...separated from her by thick stone blocks and heavy panels of wood. But Chorh-Gom had had much more extensive barriers and restraints, and he'd still escaped the prison which had held only him. If he wanted to come after her...nothing would stop him.

 

He was still in her thoughts.

 

Letting out a wordless cry, she turned and fled for the illusionary safety of her bedroom.

 

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

As the last echoes of the slamming door and Tigress's final shout faded away into the empty stillness of the temple's post-midnight darkness, Tai Lung let out his own roar of frustration and anger, turning and slamming both fists into the stone wall beside him. Despite the throbbing pain in his right paw, he still managed to crack the blocks severely, leaving huge impressions surrounded by razed cracks radiating outward from the point of impact...but he didn't even care or notice.

 

"Stupid. Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ " Clutching his head in both paws, he shook it violently from side to side before finally leaning sadly against the wall, forehead pressed to the cool stone as he cupped his muzzle in despair. He had been close, _so_ close. It had taken all of his willpower, every last ounce of self-control he possessed, to not lash out at her, verbally or otherwise.

 

He'd refrained from shouting, sneering, unleashing all the nasty, venomous, sarcastic comments he'd longed to snarl, and by staying polite and well-mannered under the circumstances, he had thus avoided provoking a battle he'd been in no shape to win...one that even if he'd won it, he still would have lost. For it would have cost him the ultimate victory, the acceptance and forgiveness he craved as the only things now left to make his life worth living.

_Yes, inciting a battle with one of the Furious Five when she visits you in your cell, knocking her senseless, twisting her up in a paralytic knot_ — _these are all things to convince Shifu and the others you're not a bloodthirsty psychopath anymore, of course. Quite the opposite!_

 

So, thanks to all this careful control of his temper, he'd been making headway, finally starting to persuade and convince the obstinate Tigress that he had changed, that he deserved a chance to prove it and keep following his new and redemptive path. And what had he done? Opened his mouth and let his hormones do the talking for him.

 

Now, she might never listen to him. She might never see him as anything but the monster he had been. And he wanted her to, more than anything in a long time...it was not an obsession, as the Dragon Scroll had been, but it was just as strong, irresistible, and uncompromising. She could be a great ally, a true friend, something he had never had before—because once she got past her unreasoning rage, and the trials and losses she had suffered, directly or indirectly, due to him, she could understand him. There was so much they could teach each other. She, at least, might be his equal, in more ways than one.

 

He knew it was hopeless. He knew he was acting out of desperation, uncertainty, and opportunity, lest it vanish forever. He knew she would likely never view him in such a light, that the best, the very best, he could hope for from her was a comradely acceptance and the friendship born from bonds between fellow warriors. But he was lonely. And at this point, the only thing he might have left to give to the world was to pass on what he knew...to leave a legacy behind.

 

Sighing, he slowly leaned back against the wall, ran his paws down over his face, and closed his eyes...tried to slow his breathing and relax so he could recover some semblance of calm and try to get back to sleep. Softly, he let out an aggrieved groan as he tenderly cradled himself, wincing as he brushed his bruised ribs and battered chest and stomach. Although he had stoically refused to show it, not wanting to give Tigress the satisfaction, those blows had _hurt!_ As if he wasn't injured enough already...

 

Yet his mind was racing so wildly he could only stare at the door, gaze boring into it as if his will alone could drag her back to confront him once more. _Such spirit_. And if he could harness it somehow, it just might be the key to laying his demons to rest, to leaving his grief behind so those dreams would no longer haunt him.

 

"Run all you like, Master Tigress," he purred softly in the moonlight. "And when you come back, feel free to take your pound of flesh from my pelt...everyone else already has dibs on it, and won't rest till they get it, so you might as well get in line. But after you've done so...I will show you. I'll prove to you I've changed. I'll do it for you.

 

"And somehow...I'll win your heart. I swear it."


	5. A Visit with Mantis

The next morning, after his dawn meditations, communing with the natural world and its life, and engaging in a sprightly game of Go with Mr. Ping, Master Shifu discovered that Tigress had locked herself in her room and refused to come out no matter what importuning the other Five employed, instead having given them a very terse and roughly scrawled note from beneath her door, instructing them to leave a plate of tofu in the hall for her come mealtimes.

 

The red panda had sighed, but after wryly observing that at least she was still in the Jade Palace and hadn't taken off for a week-long pilgrimage to Wu Dan Mountain, he had instead decided it was time for the first stage of his course of instruction to take place—Tai Lung was to be subjected to an acupuncture session with Mantis.

 

Although oddly subdued and pensive, especially compared to their first talk in his cell the day before, the snow leopard had of course objected strenuously to this suggestion. Completely aside from the still unyielding pride he bore, which rankled at the thought of him accepting help from anyone (especially an insect), the prisoner had made the rather astute point that after twenty years of being treated to endless pressure upon all his nerve points by Oogway's restraining device, the last thing he wanted was to have them inflamed and probed all over again by needles.

 

But Shifu would have none of this. Oogway's device, he said, had completely paralyzed Tai Lung; Mantis's acupuncture would do no such thing, merely drawing _chi_ to those points without causing the same pain and agony as he had suffered the last twenty years. And what better way to release the _chi_ that had been blocked within him for so long? The restraints had bound up his spiritual energy; stimulating those same points again would unleash it.

 

Although the red panda had not raised his voice even once, let alone applied his staff with the forceful, bruising raps the snow leopard well remembered from his early days of training, somehow Tai Lung could not gainsay him this. Partly because he knew Shifu and his plan—whatever it was—were his only hope at this point...partly because, buried deep down within where he could try to hide and deny it, he still saw the panda as his father and therefore found it too easy to fall into the old habit of instantly obeying...and partly because, in the end, when Shifu spoke in that tone, _no one_ refused him; that may have had something to do with it.

 

So it was that, grumbling and muttering the whole way, Tai Lung found himself being escorted from the cellars of the Jade Palace up to the bunkhouse, to the room where the smallest (though no less deadly) of the Furious Five would preside over his torture— _excuse me, medicinal therapy._ And, perhaps inevitably, Po was the one accompanying him.

 

Po, for his part, was positively bouncy, or as much as one of his size and bulk ever could be. Aside from the fact that he still hero-worshiped the snow leopard and believed, earnestly and completely, that change was possible and he could earn his redemption and forgiveness, the panda was simply happy to see Tai Lung allowed out and about again.

 

Exercise and activity were always good ideas, especially for one who'd been cooped up as long as the ex-convict—twenty years in Chorh-Gom, only to be made a prisoner again after their climactic battle. And there were a lot more possibilities for talking, interacting, and breaking through Tai Lung's walls of distrust and anger out here than there were down in the cellars of the temple.

 

Besides, if matters with Mantis went as, er, _well_ as they had with him, he rather thought someone should be there just in case the snow leopard decided to 'reward' his caregiver...

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a rather grumpy growl, and then Tai Lung snapped, "Do you _ever_ light in one place, panda? I mean, _honestly_...with as much energy as you burn up, you'd think you'd be as svelte as a cat, instead of a fat butterball..."

 

For a moment Po actually allowed annoyance and disapproval to show on his face, his ears flattening and teeth clenching briefly. But then, drawing upon his kung fu lessons to center himself, the bear breathed in and out slowly, as if in a meditation trance, and made himself smile at the snow leopard—albeit ruefully. He knew Tai Lung was only trying to get a rise out of him, and it was hardly as if that was the worst (or best, depending on your point of view) insult he'd ever heard.

 

And more importantly, one talent Po had always possessed, aside from a natural propensity for cooking, was the ability to listen, really _listen_ , to others...to read their tones, facial expressions, even postures, to learn things about them. He could tell there was no real malice in Tai Lung's voice, as if his verbal attack were simply an old habit he could not shake off, something he wasn't even aware he'd slipped into.

_Yeah. Being gruff, mean, nasty, driving everyone else away by being the cold, heartless monster everyone believes him to be...that's his defense mechanism, all right. He puts up walls to keep people from getting in. But it's not me he hates. It's himself...for being weak and a failure._

 

A wave of sympathy washed over the Dragon Warrior again, the same he'd felt when he spoke to Tai Lung in his cell—the same, in fact, he'd felt when he first heard stories of the snow leopard, years ago. It wasn't right, what he'd been put through. And it didn't even matter the atrocities he'd committed during his rampage...Po still couldn't imagine what it must have been like to be locked away—from life, from light, from everything—for twenty years. If that had been done to him, he'd be insane too. _At least I would've made sure he got some decent grub!_

 

Chuckling, the panda shrugged amiably and spread his paws. "My dad always says, if you stay in one place, you never go anywhere. I know, it sounds like fortune cookie wisdom, not to mention pretty obvious. But if you think about it, it goes a lot deeper than that."

 

Tai Lung groaned and put a paw to his face to shade his golden eyes. "Wonderful. I'm getting lessons in enlightenment from a noodle-maker."

 

"Stranger things have happened," Po persisted doggedly. "And anyway, I'm really excited 'cause I'm looking forward to this, Tai Lung. I really think this will help you out! You're gonna get better, an' show everyone who doubts you that you really do have good in you." He put as much sincerity into his voice as he possibly could—because it was what he truly felt.

 

He knew there was good in Tai Lung...had suspected it all along, but had confirmed it near the end of their battle, when the snow leopard had finally gotten hold of the scroll and opened it...only to stare at its blank surface in such heart-rending confusion, despair, and loss. He had seen it in those expressive eyes...and he was determined it was not going to get the chance to disappear, to burrow down into the stone his heart had become, never to be seen again.

 

He wanted to see the brave, noble kung fu warrior Tai Lung had once been return—for his own sake, but also for Shifu's. It was the least he could do for someone who had believed in him and helped him achieve his lifelong dream.

 

The massive feline remained silent for a long time, other than a noncommittal grunt, whether because he could not trust himself to speak or didn't believe Po's words deserved an answer. Then at last, very quietly, he said, "I hope you're right, panda. I really do. But I can't bring myself to believe it. Not yet. How is it you can see this in me when no one else can? Why do you believe in me?"

 

"Why not?" The words came to him instantly, without forethought or planning. They just felt right. Maybe because, as he had for most of his life, he was only following his heart when he said them. "Sure, you're a legendary warrior, and a rampagin' killer who nearly destroyed the valley. But I don't see that when I look at you. I just see a person. Isn't that what you are?"

 

Tai Lung turned and looked at him in astonishment and disbelief for a few moments. Then, as his face seemed to close, becoming an inscrutable mask, he observed, "You know, I've never met anyone quite like you before. You're very...unique."

 

Po beamed happily at this compliment, and only after the snow leopard had strode down the hall a few more feet did it sink in that the other's words might not have been meant in a positive light. But by that point Tai Lung was already almost to Mantis's room, and he had to huff and puff to catch up.

 

Unsurprisingly, when he reached the feline's side, the panda discovered that Tai Lung was being uncooperative, as well as just plain uncommunicative. Standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed resentfully and arrogantly across his broad chest (although Po noted he still favored his right paw, not allowing it to press tightly against his body), he simply stared off into space, gaze fixed on some imaginary point, and refused to answer Mantis's questions about where he was most in pain or which places were most sensitive—or even to speak to him at all.

 

To the insect's credit, the smallest member of the Five did not take offense or even raise his voice, although Po thought he recognized the flat glare starting to enter his eyes. Immediately he hastened to intervene.

 

"Hey now, guys, we're all friends here—" At this Mantis gave him an extremely skeptical look. "—okay, _some_ of us are, an' maybe in time we all will be—" Tai Lung snorted. "—anyway, point is, there ain't gonna be any fightin' while I'm around. Master Shifu wouldn't like it."

 

The panda turned to the snow leopard again, who while he hadn't budged an inch from his position did seem slightly less disgruntled. "I know you may not believe in acupuncture or somethin', I didn't either at first—"

 

"Actually," Tai Lung drawled, "I do. One of the first things the old turtle taught me when I was a cub here at the Palace, in fact. But I don't see the point in it right now. Being poked by needles is neither my idea of a good time, nor a miraculous cure that will change me. No offense," he added to the insect, a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

 

"None taken," Mantis said stiffly. "And I think you're probably right. But what Master Shifu wants, he gets—though I bet you already know that. Besides, it's a good first step...the amount of _chi_ you've got blocked up in you has got to be tough to deal with."

 

For a moment Po thought Tai Lung was going to swell up and explode at this affront to his dignity and warrior's pride. But then he rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, shoulders slumping a little and fists flexing and relaxing at his sides. "Fine, have it your way. Stab me to your heart's content."

 

A wicked gleam entered Mantis's eyes, and the panda had the distinct impression he might just take those words literally if Tai Lung didn't watch himself. But all he did was nod and turn aside, opening the finely lacquered sandalwood box which held his acupuncture kit. "Okay then, sit or lie down on the mat, whichever you like."

 

While the snow leopard grumbled but did as he was bidden, spreading himself out flat on his stomach on the mat, Po had a chance to actually look around and take in his surroundings—something he hadn't exactly been able to do the last time he was here, seeing as how he'd been distracted by all the sharp needles being inserted into his back.

 

Like all the other rooms in the bunkhouse, especially the dormitories of the Furious Five, it was rather Spartan in nature, containing only the bare amenities needed for comfort, hygiene, and everyday living. But like the rest of the Five, Mantis had also added tiny touches here and there to personalize the space, make it his own.

 

Aside from the identical bed and end table that existed in all the other rooms, the insect had also added woven mats fashioned from the cunningly plaited stalks of reeds and strips of bamboo—Po wondered idly if Mantis had made them himself? It wasn't as if a great deal of the Five's legends which had traveled all across China were concerned with such things as their crafts and hobbies...although Mantis _would_ have the patience for it...

 

The small, open-mouthed oil lamp of jade was identical to those each of the other Five had, but instead of the usual beeswax candle fitted into it, the insect had lit one of rich and fragrant agar—to further soothe his patients, the panda presumed, or else to steady Mantis's pincers as he inserted the needles—and suspended jasmine blossoms in the oil filling the bowl around it. A little chest of drawers made of cedar which contained various holistic medicine scrolls and several beautifully painted wall-hangings depicting various views of the valley from the palace completed the furnishings.

 

By the time Po had finished his survey, Mantis was already well under way with the treatment, glancing with a critical eye and jerky, rapid movements from Tai Lung's broad, spotted back to the snow leopard nerve point chart, ensuring he never failed to find the right pressure points to hit.

 

Considering how incredibly thick and heavily layered the feline's cold-weather fur was, surely even more of a detriment to locating the nerves in question, the fact Mantis had made no comments about this strongly suggested to Po the insect had indeed been unfairly biased before against the panda's...padding. Crossing his arms over his chest, he grumbled to himself.

_Then again, Tai's not exactly a happy camper at the best of times. When you've got a guy with that touchy a dignity, major anger management issues, not to mention the fact he handed the Five's butts to them in a sling at the Thread of Hope...yeah, not teasing him about the fur is probably a good idea._

 

Glancing down at the snow leopard, Po was startled to see not a trace of pain, discomfort, or any emotion at all on his blocky features, except for the same bored disinterest he'd displayed since entering Mantis's room. Certainly not a hint that he might be about to crack a smile if a needle succeeded in tickling him rather than hurting him. He might as well have been one of the statues on the Jade Palace's façade.

 

Impressed all over again, the panda shook his head in wondering admiration. "Wow...how do you do it? That would've had me in stitches by now, or else whimperin'. That is just so totally _awesome_."

 

Tai Lung's gaze, which had been studiously fixed on nothing, flicked up to him beneath his black-furred brows, which Po had always thought looked like ink had been spilled and swirled on them. And then he smiled—cockily, sardonically—before lapsing back into an expression of faint superiority.

 

"Yes, well, that's what separates the men from the boys, panda. For eighteen years I never once let anyone know when my training pushed me past my body's limits and caused me pain, and I'm not about to start now. Pain is nothing more nor less than nature's way of telling you to slow down. And that I refuse to do. Only by pushing beyond could I prove I was the best—anything less and I would be weak."

 

Po let out an exasperated cry and brought his fists down on the wooden plank flooring. "Jeez! What _is_ it with you and weakness, anyway? There are different kinds of strength, y'know."

 

Whiskers twitched spasmodically, and the cat narrowed his golden eyes, looking something between amused and annoyed. "The strength to lift chopsticks between your bowl and your mouth doesn't count, chubby. Or am I about to be treated to yet another tired old chestnut about the strength of the heart, the wisdom of the mind, and all that rot?"

 

The panda felt his cheeks flush, in shame and in resentment. But before he could think of a comeback from Oogway's repertoire of brilliant (if odd) sayings, Mantis twitched his feelers and snapped, "Tai Lung, you stink!"

 

" _What_?" The snow leopard's head jerked up and he immediately swiveled it about to glare at the insect furiously.

 

Perched at the small of his back, directly above his indigo pants, Mantis rolled his eyes. "No really, I mean it! You've been wearing these things for twenty years, after all..." He waved his pincer about over his nose holes.

 

Tai Lung seemed unable to decide whether to be mortally offended or relieved that the comment hadn't referred to more than hygiene. "Forgive me, a full laundering service wasn't one of the perks of Chorh-Gom!"

 

Po, who was afraid he looked as green as he felt, eyed the trousers under discussion and made a face. It wasn't as if Vachir and the other rhinos would have cared about Tai Lung's condition, let alone bothered to approach him with the sorts of things most people took for granted—fresh clothes, soap, a bedpan—when it would have been difficult to do anything around his restraints. But still...! _They probably drew straws, with the loser gettin' those kinda duties._ Suddenly he was angry all over again.

 

"Don't worry, Tai Lung," he said soothingly, holding up both paws. "I'll talk to Master Shifu, we'll get the palace seamstress to get you some new duds lickety-split. Then the next order of business'll be the bathhouse."

 

If he'd expected the snow leopard to act like a stereotypical cat and shudder at the prospect of getting wet, he would have been disappointed. The warrior only rolled his eyes a bit theatrically and sighed, and Po in fact could have sworn he saw a flicker of relief deep in those golden eyes, perhaps at finally getting something he'd been denied almost as long as the Dragon Scroll—common decency and courtesy.

 

Feeling a bit daring, the panda added, "Unless you want me to go get Monkey and have him do the honors for ya. I hear he knows where to find the coldest water west of the Yangtze. A few buckets of that, and—"

 

"No!" The panic was very evident in Tai Lung now, and Po had to keep himself from smirking too openly. "Anything but that...I'll take care of it. I'm a big kitten, you know—I can tie my own leg wraps and everything." And there was the sarcasm again, the eternal defense mechanism.

 

For a moment silence reigned once more, other than the sound of birds singing in the juniper trees outside the dormitory window, while Mantis calmly and painstakingly inserted the next several needles. Then he spoke again, with a note of challenging reproach. "I was also talking about what you said, Tai Lung. I think Tigress is right about you. For a kung fu fighter with almost forty years of experience, you really don't know anything."

 

Po thought this would begin a new round of backbiting with a leg up, but amazingly, the snow leopard only opened his mouth...paused...and then hung his head until his chin almost brushed the floor. "You're right. Nothing is what it seems anymore...and now, I really don't know what to do with my life. But this isn't exactly easy for me. Training endlessly, surpassing all boundaries, becoming the strongest and bravest and most legendary warrior the world has ever known—that's all _I_ have ever known." He looked up, his gaze very direct and pointed. "You can't expect me to change overnight."

 

"No," the panda said slowly, thoughtfully. "But if you want to, and if you're really gonna give Master Shifu a chance to help you do it, ya gotta keep an open mind."

 

"What he said," Mantis chimed in.

 

Tai Lung swallowed, looked away at the rice-paper partition between the insect's room and Viper's. "I...will try."

 

"No one can ask any more than that." _At least it's progress_.

 

A thoughtful look appeared on Mantis's face, and Po was about to ask him what he was planning when the snow leopard gritted his teeth and snarled softly. "Shifu did. So did Oogway. Nothing I ever did was good enough for them." His voice rose, becoming bitter, self-mocking. "I don't know why I'm even considering accepting his offer to stay—I must still be mad. We're just fooling ourselves here...a leopard can't change his spots."

 

As the last, sarcastic words left Tai Lung's mouth, a sudden breeze picked up outside the palace walls, swirling across the mountaintop and setting wind chimes to tinkling somewhere out of sight. The treetops tossed and danced about like gnarled hands with long, green fingers, and as the wind picked up to buffet the temple itself and blew open the shutters to Mantis's room with a shocking report, Po seriously began to wonder if he was imagining things. For he could have sworn that carried on the air currents was the scent of...peach blossoms.

 

Moments later, the wind had died down as if it had never been, leaving the shutters creaking and banging slowly but all else as it was before—well, _almost_ everything. Because as it had blown through the room, the strange breeze had gently, rather like someone breathing on a bank of candles to extinguish them, rustled across the needles Mantis had inserted. Needles which, unlike the jade-adorned set that had kept the snow leopard paralyzed for a score of years, were only tipped with delicate red feathering and so easily set to swaying and quivering—stimulating every nerve ending all at once.

 

Which meant Tai Lung had, quite reasonably, stiffened in place as his entire pelt frizzed out in a gigantic ball of fluff.

 

After staring at this ridiculous sight for several moments, during which Po had to struggle harder than ever in his life not to laugh, Mantis put a pincer sagely to his chin and observed, "No, but it seems he can change his hairstyle."

 

Po finally did burst out laughing at this, only to stop when he heard a strange sound coming from Tai Lung's throat. For a wild moment he thought the feline was actually having a hairball—then, as the snow leopard shuddered more violently, pulled back as he expected the ex-convict to smash a fist in his face for daring to laugh at his predicament.

 

But when he rose to hands and knees and began to spasm and clutch at his stomach, the Dragon Warrior became alarmed. "Tai? What's wrong, buddy? Are you—" He whipped his head around faster than he ever remembered in his life. "Mantis, what in the heck's going on? What did you do to him?"

 

"Nothing!" The insect actually looked visibly shaken and upset, not to mention completely confused. "I've never seen anything like this—"

 

He cut off as the snow leopard again froze in place, dry heaving as if he were about to vomit...but instead, something began to emerge from his mouth—and not just there, but also his nose, his ears, and even his eyes which were squeezed shut in terrible agony. Something...dark. The panda didn't know any other way to describe it. Flowing, undulating, wriggling in mid-air like tendrils of mist, or dancing cypress fronds. For a weird, nonsensical moment it seemed as if Tai Lung were weeping black tears, as if he had two sets of mustaches.

 

Then, without warning, the diaphanous cloud of inky smoke-substance seemed to snap free of the cat, hover independently in the air below his face...and then ever so slowly drip downward to the floor, there to vanish inexplicably from sight. But not without leaving a mark—for every reed within the mats that it touched immediately smoked, curled in on itself, and then shriveled into a blackened husk.

 

"Whoa! Holy—" Po leaped backward away from the reeds, looking about with a vague sense of seeking out something with which to smother the 'fire,' even as he instinctively knew better than to let any part of him touch it.

 

He was still staring in shock at the floor—which, if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, was also smoldering beneath the mats—when Tai Lung finally coughed, gasped, and then collapsed, heaving and breathless but otherwise very much alive and well. Seeing this, the panda wiped clammy sweat from his brow and again looked to Mantis for an explanation.

 

"Well, that wasn't a pretty sight," the insect deadpanned, seeming unable to take his eyes from the ruined boards. When he saw Po looking at him, he shrugged his narrow shoulders, although when he spoke again it was in a hushed whisper. "I can't be sure...I'll have to check some of my medical texts, but...I think that was his _chi_."

 

" _What_?"

 

"He was holding his stomach, wasn't he?" Mantis demanded in a hiss. "That's where it's concentrated. And I can't think of a better way to unblock and release it than setting off all the nerves at once. Wouldn't have done it quite like that, but..." He shook his head. "That was unexpected."

 

"You _think_?" This, of course, came from Tai Lung, who had at last recovered enough to sit up and glare with rather wild, bloodshot eyes at both of them, though he seemed to reserve most of his ire for the insect.

 

Putting one paw to his head with a piteous groan, the snow leopard winced, blinked a few times, then with a resentful glare tried to flatten his fur back into some semblance of order. Twisting his arm behind him, he then began deliberately yanking out one needle after another.

 

"Oh here, let me do it," Mantis said, leaping up onto the cat's shoulder to start plucking out the needles with more delicate care. "You might hurt yourself."

 

Tai Lung snorted. "I think you've done quite enough, thank you. I thought you said you were an _expert_."

 

Silently, soberly, Mantis stared at him as if he were prey he had just caught and trapped—then reached out and struck one needle with both pincers, tweaking his facial nerve.

 

After one look at the embarrassingly goofy expression twisted onto Tai Lung's features, and realizing that was exactly how he had looked in the same position, Po closed his eyes, covered his face, and turned away.

 

Yet after a few moments the panda somehow found himself drawn to look again. This time the sight was so comical, and he felt safe enough thanks to the accompanying paralysis, that he giggled and couldn't resist one little jab.

 

"Hey...that looks good on you."

 

The words the snow leopard spoke were aggrieved and deeply frustrated. "If I weren't immobilized, panda, you'd be bloody dead."


	6. Just a Bit of Training

By the time afternoon had arrived, the news of Tai Lung's remarkable acupuncture session had spread throughout the Jade Palace—helped along mostly by the gossipy nature of Mantis, naturally. Such tales grew in the telling, of course, so that by the time Master Shifu heard of it from Monkey, the snow leopard had practically been swimming in the disturbing black _chi_ and his fur, rather than standing on end, had all fallen out.

 

Once the incredulous laughter had died down, the red panda had of course sought out Po for the true account. And once that had been related, the kung fu master had sighed, fixed his gaze on the floor, and murmured—not for the first time in the last few days—that he wished Oogway were there.

 

Completely aside from the fact that the suspicious wind which had been the impetus for the strange occurrence had clearly been some sort of spiritual sending from the turtle, Shifu knew that his master would have understood what was happening, what it all meant. He was the one who first foresaw darkness in Tai Lung, after all...and matters of the soul had always been his province, regardless.

 

Yet Oogway was not here, and it was up to him to chart his son's future course from now on.

 

Tai Lung, on the other hand, once he had recovered from his mortifying shame, had become surprisingly relaxed, calm, and at peace. It was as if the release of his pent-up _chi_ had also unbound a strap which had been wrapped tightly about his heart, allowing him to at last let go of the emotions he had always kept buried so deeply within. This seeming banishment of darkness and evil from his heart had mollified objections from Tigress and Monkey, at least for now, since it seemed to put paid to the notion that he was incapable of change and didn't have a chance to redeem himself.

 

Not that he miraculously transformed into a kind and perfectly balanced Zen master—not by any means! But a great deal of the tension which had always seemed knotted up beneath the prodigious muscles of his shoulders, as well as hovering in the air whenever he entered a room, had retreated, leaving him more clear-headed and focused than Shifu ever remembered seeing him.

 

More to the point, the acupuncture session had also had one appreciable difference, what it had in fact been intended to do all along—the snow leopard now seemed in much better health than at any point since the great battles he had fought. Almost literally bouncing on the balls of his feet, a revitalizing energy coursing through his veins and a hope in his golden eyes that hadn't been there before, Tai Lung seemed bent on getting back into peak fighting condition.

 

Any time Po or one of the Five brought him his meals over the next several days, they invariably caught him doing push-ups (vertical as well as horizontal!), tai chi stretches, the opening stances for the kung fu styles in which he had always specialized and excelled—most notably, Tiger style... And at least once, it had seemed the feline somehow managed to escape his cell—until Shifu looked up, and found him dangling upside down from the ceiling joist, performing belly crunches while barely breaking a sweat.

 

Seeing this amazing change in Tai Lung, Po had decided to take it as a sign that he could try a new approach in befriending his once-feared enemy. And so he had asked permission to take the prisoner to the training hall, for a one-on-one sparring session. Despite the encouraging shift in his son's attitude, Shifu was quite understandably reluctant.

 

Even if this were not an elaborate act on Tai Lung's part, he found it rather hard to swallow that the feline could have so readily conquered his temper and his pride, let alone proven worthy of being released from his cell and allowed the run of the palace. After all, he still had not, as yet, agreed to Shifu's terms...and even if he had relinquished all claims to the Dragon Scroll, being left alone with Po, the one who had both denied him his destiny and utterly humiliated him—well, that seemed like far too risky a temptation to dangle in front of the snow leopard.

 

At the same time, though, trust had to be extended and offered sometime...and what better way for Tai Lung to purge the jealousy, anger, and resentment from his heart than by learning to interact with Po? So, after a great deal of worrisome thought, Shifu had compromised—the two could train together, but only under his direct supervision, never alone.

 

Which was why the red panda now found himself standing on the platform overlooking the Spinning Serpents, watching unblinkingly as the student he had raised from a cub and the student he'd striven his hardest to drive away bowed to each other and took their proper positions. Tai Lung, he saw, had that familiar, challenging gleam in his eyes, the one that said he was the best, he knew it, and he was about to prove it. But Po's green eyes were no less cocky and excited.

_This is not going to end well._

 

At first, however, it seemed as if Shifu's pessimistic cynicism had been unfounded, for the snow leopard did not immediately launch into a whirlwind of smashing, crushing blows, nor kick Po in the chest and hurl him back into the Gauntlet of Wooden Warriors as he had feared. Instead Tai Lung merely circled his opponent slowly and cautiously—perhaps having learned from their last encounter?—while he eyed the panda up and down.

 

Darting out with a paw every now and then, as if prepared to strike, only to draw back and prove it to be a feint. Sizing up the Dragon Warrior, gauging his true skills, plotting a foolproof strategy to defeat him...or could he possibly be holding back, giving Po a fighting chance to see what he was truly made of?

 

Shifu knew, however much he now believed in his newest student, that Po was nowhere near the level of a true kung fu master in terms of skills and knowledge of the scrolls. His defeat of the feline had been due to wisdom, cleverness, insight—and more than a little luck. The snow leopard knew this too, and so surely must wish to take the panda's true measure...

 

Even as Shifu's unease grew and he once again doubted his sanity in allowing this 'rematch', Tai Lung suddenly struck. And despite the fact he'd trained the leopard from cubhood, and had recently had a rather up-close-and-personal reminder of his abilities from what had nearly been a combat to the death, the red panda found himself marveling all over again at just what his best student could accomplish.

 

Whether because he'd learned his lesson in the town square, because he was actually only fighting as a training exercise, or for some other unknown reason, Tai Lung did not use his nerve strike attack. Instead he drew upon every legal and honorable kung fu move in his repertoire that he could—though of course applied with as much vigor, force, and power as he could muster; as always, the snow leopard played to win.

 

A Tiger punch aimed straight for the panda's face, turned at the last second into an open palm strike, rocking Po's head back. An upsweep of one leg to smash across the Dragon Warrior's neck, instead abruptly curled back before lashing out with Viper-like speed into Po's breastbone. An immediate duck and crouch, followed by a scissors-kick to knock the panda's legs out from under him. A flurry of blows going by in rapid succession, each one either blocking a return punch from Po, or smacking hard into the black-and-white furred bear—the very audible _thunks_ only made less painful than they sounded by all of the fat he had as padding.

 

In his defense, the panda truly did try his best to weather the assault. In fact he put into practice a great many of the lessons Shifu had taught him, as well as some unique moves he'd come up with on his own to fit his 'panda style.' Only half of the blows Tai Lung made actually landed since the Dragon Warrior succeeded in blocking the rest, and with a boulder-like steadiness that seemed to startle and even impress the snow leopard.

 

When he received that kick to the sternum, he absorbed the momentum of the blow by rolling backwards, landing harmlessly on his massive belly and soon standing upright again. And he actually succeeded in dodging the scissors-kick before launching his own flurry of blows in return, including one rigid chop that produced a choked gasp from Tai Lung as it connected with his throat.

 

It was clear, of course, that he remained sadly outclassed...but rather than grim or resigned to this fate, Po looked positively giddy, that endless and irrepressible grin on his face the whole time he was being trounced.

 

It was, in fact, the same look he'd worn all throughout the grueling crash course to kung fu that Shifu had subjected him to—when no matter how furiously he'd tried to discourage the panda and send him packing, Po had only seemed to gain strength from his abuse and come back raring for more. The panda truly was an eternal child, as well as a fanatical devotee of kung fu, with a determination and willpower Shifu had never expected, and could only admire.

 

What truly surprised him, however, was to see a nearly identical expression on Tai Lung's face, or as close to it as he could come. Not manic excitement or unholy glee, but a broad grin he had not seen on his son since before his adolescence...when kung fu had been more than his life, a means of achieving greatness or his father's love. A grin he never thought he'd see again. He was _enjoying_ himself. He was having _fun_. Shifu fought the urge to rub his eyes in disbelief.

 

Suddenly, something shifted. In one of his all-too-frequent fits of klutziness, Po tripped on the edge of a loose plank in the wooden flooring and fell flat on his face in an ignominious heap. Tai Lung, who had been in the middle of a lunge that, had it connected, might well have bounced him off the panda's belly again, instead let out a yowl of surprise as he tumbled helplessly over Po's head, coming so close to his intended target that he passed by literally a hair's-breadth above the Dragon Warrior. And his inertia carried him on—right off the platform, into the middle of the Furious Five's obstacle course.

 

Instinctively, Shifu found himself leaping forward even though it was far too late—as had been his habit all throughout Tai Lung's early years of training, he wished to spare him any harm or pain, wished to catch him before he fell and take the blows of the training equipment meant for him. At the edge of the platform, though, the red panda stopped himself with a muttered curse.

_He's not your little boy anymore! Even if he has changed, he never wanted you to coddle him, and would be furious if you tried. Besides...he hardly needs your protection anymore, if he ever...did..._ He lost his train of thought as, in spite of himself, he stared with jaw hanging at just what the snow leopard was doing.

 

Despite the long years of his incarceration, despite the injuries he had recently sustained, despite the changes Shifu had made in the kwoon since his rampage, and despite having tumbled into it by accident...Tai Lung was navigating the course _perfectly_.

 

Landing inverted on his paws atop the Spinning Serpents, he tilted his body back and forth with consummate balance, performing the prolonged handstand as if it were his usual means of locomotion. When the Swinging Clubs of Oblivion dropped toward him, he flexed his shoulders and pushed off, springing high above their arc so that none of them even came close to touching him—as he flipped down to the rim of the Jade Tortoise of Wisdom, he even used his tail to bat one club back the way it had come, so it smashed into one of its companions instead. Riding the shell as it rolled and gyrated around the floor, he timed his launching point so as to land between the Wooden Warriors just as their spiked limbs swung away, leaving him unharmed in the spaces amidst them. As they rotated back around again on their greased wheels, he struck with fists and feet alike—but _without_ smashing them to pieces, instead making each spin about to embed itself in its neighbor, again leaving him room to maneuver between them.

 

As the last row twirled about to form an impenetrable phalanx, the snow leopard lashed his tail, gathered the strength in his powerful legs, and from a standing start leaped more than twice his own height, catching onto one of the Seven Talon Rings as it swung by overhead...and although his upper body was far too bulky to fit through them, he seemed to have no difficulty whatsoever in swinging adroitly from one ring to the next, using acrobatic moves that would make even Monkey whistle. And as he reached the final ring in the line, its chain sending him out above the Field of Fiery Death, he only narrowed his eyes and watched clinically, calculatingly, as he observed the pattern of the spurting tubes. On the next arc, he let go—and sprang again and again, taking a winding, circuitous course across the field rather than the direct route an amateur would be tempted to use, thereby avoiding each fiery geyser as it shot upwards...so that not even a single hair or whisker was singed.

 

Shifu snapped his jaw shut, his teeth making an audible _click_. In spite of himself, pride welled up in his heart. _That_ was the student he had trained. _Simply magnificent_.

 

Barely out of breath, Tai Lung landed on the far platform, wrenched his neck about with a few disconcerting cracks, and then calmly strode back along the narrow side walkway to return to his former master's side. Unsurprisingly, there was a rather cocky grin on his face, a smugness far too pleased for his liking...but something else in his eyes, puzzlement turning to understanding, perhaps as he realized that the feat he'd just performed had not, in fact, required the Dragon Scroll. That he did not need a title or a special artifact to prove he was a great warrior.

 

Po seemed to be of the same opinion. As he struggled back to his feet, holding his ribs where the snow leopard had gotten in a fairly powerful punch, the panda was staring at Tai Lung with the same sort of hero worship and awe as he had when he first met the Five. He stared from the feline to the obstacle course, eyes flicking back and forth, one finger raised to point at each of the deadly challenges and then the virtual kung fu master who had defeated them, his mouth working soundlessly. Then at last, with eyes as wide and round as rice bowls, he stammered, "Th-that...was _...awesome_!"

 

Leaning casually against a ceiling post, the snow leopard rolled his eyes. "Is that the only word you know? You seem to use it far too much."

 

"I know, but—just, wow! That's gotta be a record!"

 

"Probably." Tai Lung smirked, and Shifu frowned to himself. This was starting to move into dangerous territory...

 

Flustered and overwhelmed, Po gestured wildly, as if he could snatch the right words he wanted out of the air. "Really! With moves like that, I can't believe I beat your tail the other day."

_Oh no_. Shifu slapped his forehead and ran his paw down his muzzle.

 

A very loud thud, and a rather pitiful squeak from the Dragon Warrior, made him open his eyes in time to see the snow leopard pinning Po against the post behind him, one paw wrapped tightly around the panda's throat as he held him several feet off the floor, the other paw clenched and drawn back—prepared to smash his face in. He hadn't even heard Tai Lung move.

 

" _You_..." Tai Lung growled, the venom and bitterness simmering beneath the surface more frightening than any rage or hatred his father had ever heard in that harsh voice. "You ridiculous, self-righteous, smug...how _dare_ you patronize me!"

 

"I wasn't—I just—"

 

"Tai Lung, _ENOUGH_!" Shifu marched forward, banging his staff into the floorboards to emphasize his point. He knew this had been a mistake, he knew the vicious killer who had once been his son would revert to form, he knew he'd been wrong to trust and believe—

 

"No no, it's okay, Master Shifu, I got it!" Po's voice came out comically nasal and muffled thanks to his predicament, but for a wonder he sounded as if he meant it. And indeed, in moments he had latched onto Tai Lung's injured finger, lifting his pinky in the telltale position.

 

If matters had been otherwise, the red panda would have been deeply amused at how quickly the feline dropped the Dragon Warrior.

 

Still, the snow leopard's shoulders remained extremely tense, and the resentment and genuine hurt on his face didn't fade even as he stepped back and rubbed his knuckles absently. "Is that all you have? A one-trick pony, are you? I know Shifu must have taught you better than that!"

 

Po rubbed his throat, still gasping and coughing. "Got your attention, didn't it? And no, of course he—"

 

Tai Lung sneered, continuing as if he hadn't even heard him. "Or maybe not. Maybe you're still just a big, fat panda who just got lucky."

 

"Hey now, that's hitting a little below the—"

 

"I get it, I understand!" The snow leopard's voice was rough and fierce, and Shifu felt a familiar stab in his heart as he heard the true pain in it. "You're the Dragon Warrior, and I'm not! But you don't have to rub it in. You already humiliated me once, isn't that enough?"

 

"What are you talking about?" Po snapped.

 

"Do I have to spell it out?" Tai Lung snarled sarcastically. "You battered me senseless, made me bite my own tail, bounced me off that belly of yours, and turned me into a laughingstock! No one in the village, or the whole valley, will _ever_ take me seriously again!"

 

The panda winced, looking rather guilty. His voice became evasive, even as his eyes shifted uncomfortably about, never meeting Tai Lung's gimlet gaze. "Yeah, well, ya didn't leave me much choice there, buddy. It was you or me, and you're the one who made it that way. I gave you every chance to call it quits, but you just wouldn't stop—"

 

Tai Lung's nostrils flared. "You _made_ me...bite...my _tail_." He seemed very stuck on that point.

 

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! Is that what ya wanted to hear?" Po held up both paws and backed a step or two away. "I was just doin' whatever I could to win, same as you. You wouldn't listen to me, what else was I supposed to do?"

 

Throughout this exchange, the red panda was looking back and forth between the two warriors, following the volley of insults, retorts, and demands as if he were tracking the blows and punches in an actual kung fu tournament. After recovering from his flabbergasted silence, he was about to step forward and intervene again...except, to his shock, the snow leopard was not snarling and lashing out in fury, whether with words or his meat-hook fists. He was actually listening! Could it be that Po was reaching him?

 

Wisely, Shifu decided to step back...let this play out, and see where it led. Neither he nor Oogway had been able to reason with Tai Lung. Perhaps the panda could. He had already proven himself capable of things Shifu could not have imagined...and if the scroll had indeed given him power, not cosmic abilities or kung fu prowess but wisdom, faith, insight...yes, there was a chance.

 

The snow leopard was still paused, mouth open to retort a reply...but then he closed it, sighing heavily. All the anger seemed to bleed out of him as he deflated, replaced by confusion and shame. He turned away. "I...I don't know. I seem to be saying _that_ a great deal lately as well. But that still gives you no right to treat me like this!"

 

"Like what? I was givin' you a compliment, ever heard of it?" Po was angrier than Shifu had ever heard him, but there was also a note of true sympathy in his voice, a willingness to understand. "Geez, what is your problem, anyway?"

 

"Oh, I don't know, panda," the feline drawled. "Maybe it's the fact you took away everything I wanted to be?"

 

"And what _do_ you wanna be?" Before Tai Lung could answer, Po held up his paw again, shading his eyes with the other. "No, wait, I know that already. What I don't know is why. And don't just give me the same old spiel about Master Shifu. I think there's more to it than that."

 

After a few long moments of silence, during which he seemed to be struggling with whether he should bother to answer Po, or perhaps simply with what words he should use, the snow leopard at last looked up challengingly.

 

"Why did I want to be the Dragon Warrior...isn't that the question of the century. I wanted it...because Shifu wanted it. Because Oogway never gave him the scroll either, so I thought...if I could achieve it, the thing that had made my father feel like a failure...then he would be proud of me. Then, he wouldn't feel like a failure anymore."

 

Tai Lung studiously avoided looking at the red panda, who for his part was absolutely stunned—and overcome with sorrow as he realized at last just what he had done to his son. His shoulders slumped, his whole body hunching over as, for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of his years lie heavily upon him.

 

"One other thing." The ex-convict fixed his gaze on the panda, his eyes burning like twin suns, though with what emotion, Shifu could not have presumed to know even if he'd had clear vision to observe him…rather than seeing the hulking snow leopard through a watery film of tears. "I wanted to be the Dragon Warrior...because then finally I would have a place. I wouldn't be a lost orphan anymore. I'd be a hero—the greatest hero in all of China."

 

Clenching his fist spasmodically in front of his chest, Tai Lung had an odd mix of belligerence and desperation in both face and voice as he tried to make them understand.

 

"All that phenomenal power he was supposed to possess. A vision to grasp and fully understand the universe, from the farthest reaches of the stars to the depths of the human heart. Courage, wisdom, fortitude...stamina that would never yield, always enduring...everything I lacked. And most of all, a purpose."

 

He spread his paws helplessly, as if trying to grasp at clouds. "I would know what I was meant to do, and I could do it. I would fight so that no others had to, defend our borders so that all of China could be as safe and protected as this valley. I would be legendary...because I would never fail in my charge."

 

For a moment he stood straight and tall, chest puffed out proudly while a fervent, if menacing, fire of resolve shone from his countenance. "I could be the Emperor's personal bodyguard...make sure the Huns never crossed our borders, or if they did they would regret it." He chuckled darkly...but then his voice turned oddly tender. "Ensure all of those helpless, defenseless people in the village could grow their crops, raise their children, bring a bright future."

 

Abruptly the gentleness was gone, as he whipped about to skewer first Shifu, then Po, with his vicious stare. "But all of that was denied me by Oogway. Everyone I could have protected—they only saw me as a worthless man without a family or lands, no children, no legacy, only shattered dreams and nothing to show for his life! It didn't matter that I'd mastered the thousand scrolls—to them, I would always be the man who _wasn't_ the Dragon Warrior."

 

Crestfallen, he clenched his fists again as if longing to strike something. Finally, after a few moments of seeking about futilely, his eyes locked on the Adversary nearby and he lashed out—punching the dummy so hard it hurtled completely across the training hall and smashed into the wall, breaking the boards behind it.

 

Shifu winced, squeezing his eyes shut, even though part of him was grateful the leather hadn't split to let the sand inside spill out. For all the disparagement he'd shown toward it during Po's initial training, the Adversary held many memories for him...some fond and as precious as jade, some incredibly painful, all of them bittersweet.

 

As he looked up at the snow leopard, he saw reflected in his eyes some of them—a tiny, adorable cub delivering an almighty kick for his size, knocking the same dummy back several feet before turning, his shining gaze clearly saying 'Look what I did, daddy!' The red panda giving him that rare but treasured smile and a squeeze of the shoulder for a job well done...and the utterly elated cub rising up to nuzzle him, purring ecstatically.

 

"No," he finally managed to say, his voice hoarse and shaky. "You couldn't be more wrong, Tai Lung. No matter what anyone else in the valley thought, you were my son, and I loved you. No title or scroll could ever have changed that, one way or another." The forcefulness that had come with these last words faded into earnest regret.

 

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am if I made you think otherwise. You certainly weren't worthless. You mastered all one thousand scrolls, and the number of warriors who have done that in the thousand years Oogway lived here, I can count on the fingers of one paw. And none of them did it when as young as you were. You may not have believed it, but _that_ alone would have made you just as legendary as my master and me." He paused, then added firmly, "But you didn't have to be...I would have loved you no matter what."

 

Just as had occurred a few days ago in the Hall of Warriors during their confrontation, Tai Lung stared at him with a bleak, anguished expression, his brows quivering as if he were about to burst into tears. He did not...but neither did his heart harden and refuse him. "Forgive me for saying this, but you didn't exactly make it easy for me to believe that."

 

While the red panda flushed at the rebuke, which only stung because it was undeniably true, Po stepped forward. All trace of anger and frustration was gone from his face, replaced by compassion and warmth, the same sort of service he might have given down at Mr. Ping's noodle shop to a lonely, solitary customer. "I get it, I understand," he said, a bit wryly. "I told ya before, I know you had it bad, Tai. And I really feel for ya. Gettin' rejected for not bein' the Dragon Warrior? I know just what that's like—same thing happened to me, just before I fought ya. But you're wrong about somethin' else."

 

"Oh?" the snow leopard muttered. "And what might that be?"

 

The Dragon Warrior stepped forward and slapped a paw on Tai Lung's shoulder. "When you said I took away everythin' you wanted to be. Because you haven't lost any of that stuff you were dreamin' of—you can still be a hero, buddy. Like I said before, an' I'll keep sayin' till it sinks in, you don't need a scroll for that." Sincerity vied with conviction in his voice. "The only one standin' in your way...is you."

 

Now it was Tai Lung's turn to let his jaw drop. Despite how simple and sensible this advice was—so simple he had somehow not seen what was before his own muzzle—he could not seem to find the words to respond. Finally, after several moments during which Shifu was certain he would fall backwards and sit down hard on the wooden floor, the snow leopard put a paw to his head, shook it, and sighed, looking rather mournful.

 

"But...how? After all I've done...no one in the valley will ever forgive me. Tigress certainly won't. And I don't deserve it. I can't...I can't be what you think I can."

 

"Of course you can!" Po's grin was like the sun beaming out from behind the clouds. "If you don't believe it, look at me! I always wanted to be a kung fu warrior—do you think I _ever_ thought I'd be livin' the dream? If _I_ can be a hero, anybody can!"

 

Shifu snickered behind his hand, trying very hard not to ruin the moment.

 

The feline rather looked as if he wanted to agree, if for no other reason than because of the panda's...unorthodox means of defeating him, except that to do so would be to admit Po could be right about him, too. Finally compromising with a high degree of skepticism, he said, "I...suppose so."

 

"You don't believe me?" A strange look passed over Po's chubby face, which if Shifu didn't know any better he'd have called one of cunning and plotting. Coming to some sort of decision, the panda posted his fists on his nonexistent hips and turned to face the training hall.

 

At the same moment Shifu figured out what he was up to and was about to hastily intervene, Po gave that devil-may-care grin he'd come to know all too well and, without warning or hesitation, nonchalantly leaped forward, off the platform, into the obstacle course.

 

To Shifu's surprise, even Tai Lung cried out, but it was already too late to do anything but helplessly watch. What stunned the red panda even more was that despite the crash course he'd given Po on Wu Dan Mountain, and his defeat of the snow leopard, he seemed to have learned nothing when it came to the deadly devices of the kwoon. Although...Shifu narrowed his eyes, focusing closely on the Dragon Warrior as he windmilled his arms atop the Spinning Serpents, his overweight body constantly in danger of toppling into the water. Was he overcompensating _deliberately_?

 

By the time Po had rolled and banged around inside the Jade Tortoise (with decidedly more grace and style than he had any right to) and smashed into the middle of the Wooden Warriors with agonized screams of pain, the kung fu master was certain of it. While hardly an expert fighter, Po was opting to fail the course as dismally as he had his first day at the Jade Palace. But why...?

 

As a crocodile arm spun about and stabbed its spikes right into Po's rump, sending him several feet off the floor with a howl, an echoing cry came from beside Shifu, and he turned to stare at Tai Lung. The snow leopard had his eyes screwed most of the way shut, though one remained cracked open enough to keep watch of the catastrophe in progress...and while he flinched, winced, pursed his lips, groaned, and murmured in sympathy at all the right places, an amused and contented look was definitely struggling to make its way to the surface at all times.

 

At last, Shifu began to understand. _Very good, panda. Very wise indeed._

 

Eventually the panda staggered out the other side of the course, his fur nearly as ash-covered, smoking, and burned to a crisp in places as it had been when he established 'level zero.' Lurching in a lazy zigzag down the walkway, he finally reeled to a stop only a few feet from Tai Lung, giving the feline a cheesy grin that came out more like a grimace.

 

"There...ya see? I ain't...that much of a hero. Title's...still open for ya, buddy." He grinned proudly, holding up one finger. "But at least that time...I missed my tenders." Suddenly going cross-eyed, Po stiffened, then collapsed on his stomach with a thunderous thud.

 

A dead silence filled the training hall for several moments. Shifu looked at Tai Lung, and Tai Lung looked at Shifu. The snow leopard seemed absolutely incredulous, clearly unable to believe what he'd just witnessed. Then...slowly...he began to chuckle. The chuckle became a snicker, then a guffaw, and finally outright, full-throated, belly-bursting laughter.

 

Gasping between paroxysms of hilarity, the man who had become the feared scourge of the Valley of Peace peered down at Po, who was staring at him through bleary eyes. "I...I can't believe...you beat my tail...the other day!"

 

At that, Po too began to laugh, softly at first and then with ever-increasing gusto, while Tai Lung actually clutched his stomach and leaned against the wall before collapsing beside the panda, tears of mirth streaming from his eyes.

 

And slowly, Shifu smiled.

 


	7. A Woman's Eyes

 

Morning dawned clear, cool, and misty, as it often did on the peak which supported the Jade Palace, bringing with it rich, thick banks of pearlescent brume draped over the distant hills ringing the Valley of Peace, tattering and tearing the clouds into strange, ragged formations that undulated and shifted with the slightest breeze. It also brought warm rays of sun slanting from the east across the ruddy roof tiles, the scent of jasmine and cherry blossoms on the breeze, the sounds of birds singing sweetly in the tree branches...

 

And the grumbling, vicious snarling of a very displeased feline, interspersed with deep, heavy gasps and grunts, as of one very out of breath.

 

On the aged, rough-hewn staircase which extended for so many countless steps up the mountainside, Tai Lung glared balefully from beneath his jutting brows, even as he marveled anew at just how he had gotten himself into this situation...allowed Shifu to once again get the drop on him, and manipulate him.

 

It had all started when the red panda had announced, upon visiting his cell at the crack of dawn (the master's usual time of rousing himself, as it had been since the snow leopard's cubhood and probably for much longer), that the temple was in need of supplies from the village. Foodstuffs, mostly, but also medicines and herbs for his continued treatment and bolts of fabric to be used in fashioning him new clothing. Tai Lung had been grateful to hear of these further attempts to look out for his welfare—until Shifu had blithely noted that he wished his former student to be the one to fetch the supplies.

 

Only by sheer force of will had Tai Lung not immediately launched into a blistering tirade, speaking volumes of eloquence on just how displeased he was at being demoted to an errand boy. When he had instead noted, through gritted teeth, that the people of the valley would hardly countenance their collective bogeyman casually strolling through their streets to pick up groceries, Shifu had agreed—which, aside from the unwise course of allowing Tai Lung unfettered access to the town, was why he would not be going alone.

 

At this the feline had jumped at the chance, demanding that Shifu accompany him—or better still, go in his stead. But the panda had pleaded infirmity. With both tiny hands clutched at the small of his back, and an expression of rather unconvincing anguish and suffering on his mustached face, his former master had, with equal parts gall and guile, complained bitterly of the aches and pains that came with age—and in particular, the terrible bruises on his spine and shoulders that he'd received days ago in the Hall of Warriors...though he "couldn't imagine where they might have come from".

 

Flatly glaring at this not-so-subtle reference to their climactic battle—as he always had been, as any parent in the history of parenting, Shifu was master of the guilt trip as well as kung fu—Tai Lung had yet been unable to rebut that claim. But when he had, with surprising hopefulness, suggested Po, the red panda had only laughed ruefully and said that the snow leopard would have to be a sadist if he wanted to force the poor, roly-poly Dragon Warrior to trek up and down that colossal stairway carrying such a heavy load. _And what makes you think I'm not_ — _or that that wasn't precisely what I was after...?_ The fact Tai Lung, his upper body strength notwithstanding, would be the one doing that instead was somehow not remarked upon, oddly enough.

 

Besides, Shifu had added, whoever went with him also had to be able to reassure the townspeople that Tai Lung would not go on a rampage again—and actually possess the skill to prevent him from doing so. And there was only one member of the Furious Five he was confident could do that.

 

As soon as the ex-convict had realized just whom Shifu was referring to, his heart had jumped in his chest (and, he had to be honest with himself, so did another portion of his anatomy) at the thought of finally getting to be alone with Master Tigress again. She'd been avoiding him ever since their last talk, but now with her master giving her a direct order, she'd be unable to weasel out of it this time. Finally, he could have a chance to continue breaking through the chinks of her armor and get through to her... With ill grace that barely disguised his eagerness, he had at last agreed to the excursion.

 

That, however, was before he discovered what a harsh taskmistress Tigress truly was.

 

"Come _on_! You call that marching? If I didn't know better, Tai Lung, I'd think all your time in Chorh-Gom left you out-of-shape and flabby. A true kung fu master would have been up and down the stairs several times already with that load..."

 

"I'd be quite able to run circles around you, Master Tigress, if I weren't burdened down with _these_ ," the snow leopard snapped, teeth clacking together as if about a throat he would soon be tearing out violently.

_These_ being the collection of oversized wicker baskets and hampers he'd been ordered to carry—one around his neck so as to bang upon his chest, several on each arm, and still more dangling down his backside until he rather resembled an ambulatory laundress' shop. The only thing marring that image—aside from his complete lack of skill at the task, so that the baskets were constantly in danger of tipping over or toppling him down the steps—was his bare head. And even that would have been supporting another basket if Tigress had had her way!

 

"I mean, _really_!" Tai Lung continued waspishly. "Are all these baskets strictly necessary? Just how much were you planning to buy? Surely Shifu didn't give you that high an allowance..."

 

Tigress smiled at him in a lofty, superior fashion. "What can I say, I like to be prepared for anything."

 

"And the reason you can't be bothered to carry any of them would be...?"

 

Her smile became, if anything, just a bit too sweet for his tastes. "What would be the point of that? _I'm_ not the one who's supposed to be learning lessons here."

 

Narrowing his eyes at her striped backside as she swaggered down the stairs ahead of him, nonchalantly paring an apple with her claws, Tai Lung considered her words intently—but after several minutes couldn't make heads or tails of them. It didn't make any sense...why would Shifu be using such inane tactics to try and train him, or convince him to be trained? The acupuncture, the sparring session at the kwoon...they at least were understandable. But this?

_Perhaps I hit him a bit too hard the other day, and jogged his brain a tad loose. He's starting to get as nutty as Oogway was. And that sort of idiotic thinking is not going to earn me what I want._

 

Of course, he still didn't know what that was—other than a life, an identity, a chance at normality and happiness that everyone else had, something to replace the yawning void in his life which had abruptly opened up to swallow him whole as soon as he learned the scroll and the title of Dragon Warrior could never be his, or weren't what he thought they were. And, of course, Master Tigress. For while he might not appreciate her attitude just now, a part of him still couldn't help but admire it, and her.

 

He knew, more than ever now, that the path he had set himself, the task of wooing her heart, would be even more complex, conflicted, and difficult than he had believed—and he'd hardly been wearing blinkers on that score to begin with. But he believed he'd read, somewhere or other, that faint hearts never win fair maidens. While Tigress was certainly no maiden, he couldn't see how anything less than stalwart courage and unyielding determination would be sufficient to even gain her respect, let alone anything more—in fact they'd be even more required. Luckily, he had them in spades. Or at least he would, if it weren't for this wretchedly demeaning servant act Shifu compelled of him!

 

That he would succeed in the end, he had not the slightest doubt. He had, after all, succeeded at far more demanding, and far more monumental, acts than this. He had mastered all one thousand scrolls before the age of eighteen. He had escaped every single restraint, booby trap, guard, and deadly weapon at Chorh-Gom used to house and bind him, from a prison that had been set aside and prepared solely for him, tailored precisely to his skills and ways of thinking—and he'd done it with the aid of _a single feather_. He had defeated the Furious Five in single combat, something even whole armies hadn't been able to accomplish. And while it had been short-lived and, in the end, pointless, he had at least for a time managed to hold the Dragon Scroll in his paws.

 

Surely, after all of this, he could achieve something as relatively simple as a woman's affections! Especially with the way she was looking at him, back in his cell that night... If only he blasted well knew _how_ to win her, make her his own!

 

Obviously trying to play up his heroism and honor were right out. Granted, the example he'd used on her hadn't been a very good one, as he himself had admitted. For while he had _not_ deliberately hurled Tigress off the Thread of Hope, to say that he had saved her life through anything more than blind chance and instinct would be, if not a lie, then certainly a half-truth.

 

Of course he'd had no compunctions saying anything of the sort if it would convince her he wasn't a stark raving madman...but after the way she had so neatly deflected him, shot down almost every point in his argument and even come up with rebuttals he couldn't defuse, all he had been able to think was how deeply he regretted _not_ saving her life. Maybe one day, she'd give him the chance to remedy that.

 

In the meantime, exactly how he would prove to her he had changed, or at least that he wished to, was still beyond him. The most obvious answer, of course, would be to do something undeniably good-willed and selfless, something which would testify to his trustworthiness and responsibility. But there rather seemed to be a shortage of natural disasters to avert or villainous invaders to trounce. _That's what happens when you're the scourge of the valley_ — _everyone and everything else pales in comparison._

 

He might attempt to manufacture one, but that would require the cooperation of everyone in the village—extremely unlikely, that—or at least a hapless, trusting soul like Po as his accomplice. If Shifu found out, he could kiss good-bye any possible chance for his staying at the Jade Palace any longer. And if Tigress found out, or more likely saw right through it...

_Damn. I really don't know which would be worse_ — _no, I do. Forget Shifu; if he lost faith in you, you'd be right back in prison, after being beaten into a mass of bruises. But if Tigress suspects anything, you'll be dead. Gutted, eviscerated in ten seconds flat. Or worse, she'll hand you your family jewels on a silver platter._

 

He shuddered. No, a very bad idea.

 

So where did that leave him? He couldn't demonstrate it, and if the other night was any indication, simply talking to her wouldn't even put a dent in her obstinacy...and adopting Po's tactic of pointing out commonalities between them had failed dismally, too...

 

By the time they'd finally reached the foot of the staircase and were standing before the smoothly cobbled pathway that led toward the moon bridge into the village proper, Tai Lung had completely exhausted all the possibilities he could think of to change Tigress's mind about him—to the point he was on the verge of simply falling on his knees and begging her, pride be damned—and he'd also exhausted his body from carrying the baskets, which had somehow seemed to gain ten pounds with every step.

 

Staggering to a halt and dumping them in a heap on the steps, he mopped at his sweaty brow and studiously avoided looking behind him, back up toward the palace. The fact the hampers would be even heavier on the return trip only made him groan aloud all the more.

 

"What's the matter?" Tigress interrupted his bemoaning reverie, taking a juicy bite out of her apple. "Had enough already?"

 

He was about to answer her with what would probably have been a far too scathing and unwise retort, when something happened that completely drew his thoughts and focus away from romance, redemption, or even his constant grumbling about his current plight.

 

Across the river, beyond the bridge's curving arch, the morning bustle had overtaken the village, with throngs of pigs, rabbits, sheep, goats, and even one or two storks going about their daily business. An innkeeper was sweeping his front steps, a washerwoman was just pouring soap into her gallon tub, and vendors and customers alike were already haggling in the marketplace. He thought he spied a contingent of the temple guardsmen in their distinctive brocaded robes of jade green, and several messenger geese fluttering about, their golden garments glittering brightly in the sunlight. And of course even this early, there were swarms of children darting about, ignoring their parents' desperate cries as they got underfoot, their joyful, innocent shouts floating easily to him on the air, mingling with the sound of the bell tolling from the hillside overlooking the valley.

 

But that wasn't what drew his attention. It was the fact a young, rather harried-looking mother, a lapine clad in the typical homespun garments of a peasant and herding a fairly sizable horde of children in front of her, had stopped in the middle of the roadway...one paw clutching the front of her apron, the other clapped to her mouth to hold back a scream, while her eyes stared across the village in horror.

 

Straight at him.

 

Tai Lung froze in place too, not quite certain what he should do—flee back up the stairs, run for cover, stand up tall and brazen it out? But before he could make any decision, another mother, this one a pig, noticed her friend's paralyzed state, turned, and saw what she was staring at. Immediately she pointed with one hoof and let out a piercing, squealing scream.

 

As the snow leopard stared in disbelief and mounting despair, everyone around the two mothers saw at the same time what had so frightened them—and immediately the throng turned into a milling, scrambling, terrified mob as every single villager tried to flee at once in every conceivable direction. Most of the children seemed utterly confused as to why their parents were so upset, but others were a bit more aware...and the ones that weren't running as fast as their little legs would carry them after their mothers and fathers were trying to avoid being trampled, or else standing stock still in the middle of the road, tears streaming down their cheeks while they bawled to the sky. Even the guards seemed taken aback and stunned into immobility, despite the fact he was fairly certain some of them had been responsible for carting his unconscious body up to the Jade Palace a week or so ago.

 

Tigress, meanwhile, had finished her apple, taken one look at his bewildered face, and was now glaring at him, contempt mingled with genuine puzzlement in her golden eyes. "I can't believe you...what did you _think_ was going to happen?"

 

It was on the tip of his tongue to blurt out one of his typical sarcastic comments—in this case, that he'd had no idea the villagers had never laid eyes on her this early in the morning, though she was indeed a terrifying sight so soon after rising. Except...he couldn't. Instead, he could only gaze at the traumatized valley and shake his heavy head in denial.

 

"I never wanted...this." He caught himself, forced out the bitter truth. "Or maybe I did, once. Not anymore."

 

At one time, he had reveled in the thought of countless innocents cowering and fleeing before him, that the simple utterance of his name let alone catching sight of him would strike such fear into so many hearts. But without the Dragon Scroll, with every act he had committed to attain it as his rightful spoils now revealed to be, not a legend to inspire respect and awe, but one vicious atrocity after another...it only left a rancid taste in his mouth.

 

The striped feline glanced sharply aside at him, as if she doubted her own ears, and then snorted derisively. "It's too late for regrets." She looked as if she wished to say more, but then her good sense and concern for the welfare of others made her dart forward, her feet barely seeming to strike the planks of the bridge. But she was still able to toss back over one shoulder, "I'll handle this. And don't you forget your baskets."

 

Bristling until he was certain all of his fur, and not just that along his spine, was standing on end, and cursing so foully under his breath that he was surprised the river waters didn't turn black, Tai Lung started yanking his load off the ground and back into place. _Damn her. Vicious, cruel woman. Nothing can be worth this aggravation...can it?_

 

By the time he'd caught up with Tigress in the middle of the village square, the kung fu master had managed to worm her way into the center of the screaming, panicking animals—and to his surprise and begrudging respect, she had cleared a space and was holding forth, risen to her full height and looking as calm and authoritative as if she wore her ceremonial robes for the Imperial court. Though all the villagers still had their voices raised in fear, fury, and confusion, hers rose above them, cutting through with a determination and strength that, almost against his will, had him admiring and desiring her all over again.

 

"Citizens of the Valley of Peace!" Her voice rang across the crowd, stilling many of them into silence as it echoed back from the storefronts and houses. "I know many of you are frightened, even angry. That one who has brought nothing but death, destruction, and great trouble to you all is here in your midst, and you can't help but worry about your families and loved ones. But I ask now that you trust me, as you have in Master Shifu and Master Oogway before him—and believe me when I say that you have nothing to fear."

 

"B-b-but...it's Tai Lung!" a grocer stammered tremulously.

 

"Yeah!" another pig, this one a merchant by the look of his richer, more ornamented clothing, cried, seeming to work up a stronger nerve thanks to her presence. "Shifu said he was keeping him under lock and key 'til he decided what to do with him—he shouldn't be here!"

 

 

For a moment Tigress's mouth became a grim line, as if she longed to agree with him. But then she shook her head. "He is only here as part of his penance, working off the _very_ great debt he owes you all. I am here to make sure he causes you no harm...I hope you know I will allow nothing to happen while he is in my charge."

 

A brief snarl escaped from her throat, turning into a low chuckle as she flicked her eyes to the snow leopard standing several yards behind her, once again a comical sight overloaded with baskets. "Besides, does he _look_ like much of a threat to you?"

 

Somewhere in the crowd, someone tittered behind their hand, and then a wave of nervous laughter swept across them before sinking back into silence. Although he knew it was necessary to reclaim some semblance of normalcy and control, Tai Lung couldn't help but glower, and he could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks as he flushed in shame.

 

"Once I've finished purchasing supplies for the Palace," Tigress was saying soothingly and with supreme confidence, "I'll be taking him back, and you won't have to worry about him anymore. So if you could all go back to business as usual, this can be done as swiftly and painlessly as possible. Agreed?"

 

A few more grumbles and resentful murmurs answered her at first, but slowly, one by one and then in larger groups, the villagers began to nod, shuffle their feet, and gather their carts, packs, and children back around them. Creaking wheels and scraping sandals on stone concealed all other sound for several minutes, until at last the knots of clustered people had dispersed and forward motion through the streets had resumed. Some faces still looked terrified and ashen, others enraged and hateful, while still others only looked with gratitude and warmth to their savior.

 

He noticed several children in particular beaming up at Tigress, or waving at her shyly from behind their mothers' legs, before they were scooped up and carried away to safety. And to his considerable amazement, Tigress responded with cordial waves, gentle smiles, and even kneeling down to ruffle the hair between one little goat boy's vestigial horns before giving him a soft pop on the rump to send him scurrying back to his parents.

 

He never would have pegged her as having any skill with, or love for, children. _Seems there are many things to learn about her still..._

 

When at last the crowd had retreated into the other streets and squares of the village, Tai Lung succeeded in making his way up to stand beside his unwanted chaperone. "Nice speech," he muttered, still torn between resentment and astonishment. "And it certainly seemed to do the trick. Good thing too, it might have become rather dicey otherwise. I have to th—"

 

He didn't even get the words of gratitude out before Tigress was wheeling about to skewer him with a withering look. "I didn't do it for you. I did it for them, and for Master Shifu. Don't ever forget it."

_Someone has issues_. Not that he blamed her... If he could have, he would have stepped back and held his paws up placatingly—but with the baskets weighing him down, he could only sigh and let his shoulders slump, presenting an even more abject and ridiculous image.

 

"Don't worry, I won't," he snapped...then let his voice fall until it was barely audible. "Could we, perhaps, get this over with, then? The sooner I'm out of here, the better."

 

"For once, we're in agreement," Tigress said, with a great deal more satisfaction at his having 'learned his place' than he would have liked…though oddly, something seemed to have unsettled her, too. Then, with a peremptory wave of a paw, she pulled a tightly rolled scroll from an inner pocket of her vest and began consulting it as she led the way into town—leaving him no choice but to shuffle along dutifully behind her.

 

The next several hours went by in something of a blur for Tai Lung. While the snow leopard trailed along behind his unwilling companion, with as much meek docility as he could stomach, Tigress proceeded to run down her shopping list with just as much thoroughness, dedication, and no-nonsense attitude as she did when training in kung fu—or any other aspect of her life, he suspected.

 

By contrast, those she dealt with were extremely nervous, uncertain, and terrified the entire time the purchases were being made. Where the merchants didn't slam and bolt their doors and shutters upon seeing their approach, or leave out perpetual signs proclaiming they'd "Gone to Lunch" or were "Closed for Renovations", they refused to meet Tigress's gaze, stammered constantly as they spoke, wrung their hands endlessly, and vacillated from one foot to the other.

 

In spite of himself, Tai Lung was rather impressed at Tigress's skill at haggling, especially under the circumstances. And not only was it unusual for her to have such specific knowledge of proper herbal remedies, fertilizers for the gardens, and ways to determine the freshness of certain spices and vegetables (though he supposed she was given that information by Mantis and Po), she also seemed to have a surprising amount of insight into choosing proper colors and dimensions for cloth.

 

If he'd given the matter any thought, he'd have assumed Tigress to have no skill whatsoever at womanly pursuits— _and she'd likely rip the throat out of anyone who claimed she did!_ Whether there was more to her than met the eye, or she were again following instructions—from Master Viper, say—remained to be seen.

 

But that wasn't what made the time pass so quickly, or occupied his thoughts so he could not focus on her. It was the burden of memories laid upon him.

 

For it wasn't enough that everywhere they went, he passed locations, buildings, and landmarks that he identified with painful jolts of recognition. That when first returning to the Valley a week ago, he'd been far too focused on facing Shifu and achieving the Dragon Scroll, or later distracted by his battle with Po, to truly notice and acknowledge his surroundings...but now he could see and remember all too clearly. That everywhere he looked, he spied glaring reminders of his rampage of twenty years prior, with the contrast between the village's current state and the carnage of the past sending chills down his spine...

 

Where the tavern his insane brawl had started in had once stood, there was now only a vacant lot, apparently never rebuilt—the burned timbers and heaps of ash covered over by grass, weeds, and wildflowers. There, across the way, he spied a noodle restaurant he had nearly wrecked and torn to pieces, scaring the poor proprietor so—some silly, simple-minded goose named Ping, if he recalled correctly—he'd practically gone into molting season early and lost all his feathers. It seemed to be doing rather well for itself now, judging by the line at the door...

 

A bridge where he'd stood his ground against a platoon of temple guardsmen, never letting a single soldier pass so that instead, the shimmering, crystalline waters of the river had become strewn with groaning bodies, discarded weapons and pieces of armor, and swirling clouds of blood like spilled scarlet ink. At least now the stream was clear and pristine again, though he could still see deep hack marks in the wooden railings where the guards' axes and halberds had whizzed by, just missing his fur by centimeters.

 

A well where he had hurled a bucket about like a windmill and sent scores of hapless villagers flying across the square...it looked placid and still now, the bucket restored to its position and serving as a communal gathering place (until the gossiping old women fled when they saw him coming, of course). But he could swear some of the stones were still out of place, and the metal stand supporting the windlass was bent out of shape...

 

No, what truly disturbed Tai Lung even more than this was the people of the valley and the way they treated him. Not that they flung insults, demanded he leave and never return, or shrieked and ducked down helplessly before him, begging for mercy. That would almost be preferable. Instead, he saw them...out of the corners of his eyes, peeking out from behind window curtains, standing huddled on street corners, ducking down alleys to avoid crossing his path as if he were a source of bad luck.

 

It was not what they said, it was what they didn't say that unnerved and upset him. Each eye resting upon him, each scowl sent in his general direction, each tremulous lip of a child as it peered up at him with enormous, moon-like eyes filled with stark terror...he could feel them even when he couldn't see them, and they only made the whole thing that much more unbearable.

 

By the time Tigress had finally stuffed the last of the comestibles and textiles into the baskets and hampers, and he was lugging them back through the village toward the Jade Palace steps, Tai Lung was utterly, thoroughly depressed—he hadn't felt this rotten since he was first incarcerated at Chorh-Gom. Seeing the way the villagers truly viewed him didn't just open his eyes to the enormity of the task ahead of him...it ground his muzzle in it and crushed his neck to the cobblestones so he couldn't escape the unkind truth.

 

How...how could he ever redeem himself, be accepted, make a name for himself and become the great hero he'd always envisioned himself to be, when this tragedy could always be laid at his feet and no one would ever let him forget it?

_As well they shouldn't. The day I can forget what I did, is the day I can do it all over again._

 

Shaking his head, he looked up from his bitter thoughts and noticed a tiny cow-girl—she couldn't be more than four or five years old—standing in the back garden of her house, staring at him with jaw hanging and eyes bulging. Just when he was certain she, too, would scream pitifully and run for cover, the child instead leaped toward the fence at the edge of her property, arms spread wide...and the look on her face was one of rapture and excitement.

_Good grief, does she actually want to play? She must have no idea who I am..._ Completely flummoxed as to how to respond, and unable to really move thanks to his burden, he simply stood in the road, waiting.

 

Just before the calf would have leaped through her gate and come running to his side, however, her mother suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Rather roughly grabbing her daughter's arm and jerking her back out of harm's way—never mind how the child cried and demanded to be let go so she could 'pet the big kitty'—the cow instead glared wrathfully at Tai Lung. As if he had somehow tempted or beguiled her precious brat into coming to him!

 

Seeing the child dragged away when, in her innocence, she so clearly wished to play with him, was bad enough, like a knife thrust to the heart. But as he looked at the mother again, he gasped in true shock...he knew her, he realized at last. A flash, to twenty years ago...

_Smoke, rising from the village to mingle with the mountain mists and wreath away all view of the sparkling stars, flecked through with the same embers that had ignited and were even now consuming one building after another. Shouts, screams, the splashing of water somewhere out of sight as some enterprising individual finally started fetching it from the river. And one woman's heart-breaking wail, floating above everything else._

_A bull, one of the ubiquitous temple guardsmen who had dared to get in his way, to try and prevent him from ascending the steps so he could face Shifu and Oogway, and at last take the Dragon Scroll for his own. Collapsed in the street, crumpled at an unnatural angle_ — _he was fairly certain, in a detached sort of way, that he'd heard the fellow's neck snap when he landed._

_The wife, weeping piteously over her fallen man, her tears staining his tunic...looking up at him abruptly with grief, pain, and an almost savage hatred in her eyes. If she could, if she'd had the courage and the skill for it, if she'd dared attack the scourge of the valley, he who had mastered all one thousand scrolls of kung fu, she would have. And would not rest until she had personally disemboweled him herself..._

 

Shaking his head to snap himself out of it, Tai Lung was shocked for a moment he could even remember this with such clarity, after so many years...after he had attacked and killed so many. But he realized it was the look in the woman's eyes that did it. For it was exactly the same. Twenty years later, obviously remarried, having children, rebuilding a new life for herself...and she still hated him. The same as everyone else in the valley did.

 

So much concentrated hatred, fear, and worry assailing him from every side…it made him long, for the first time he could ever recall, to escape who he was. For while he had told Tigress, in all honesty, that he did not kill indiscriminately, that he remained an honorable fighter...the fact was, he had failed to stay true to that path twenty years ago.

 

Though he had not killed the Five, Po, or Shifu out of hand...it had been a different story when he went on his rampage. The memories of it were burned behind his lids. And now, more than anything, he loathed being inside his own pelt.

 

The sound of the door slamming behind the bovine as she pulled her daughter out of Tai Lung's sight jarred him out of his self-pity. When he turned to look at Tigress, who had been watching the proceedings with something akin to witnessing a rapist's execution, he couldn't help himself—even though he knew she wouldn't sympathize, didn't give a damn about him and probably never would, he felt he had to say something.

 

"I didn't want to kill them, you know. I only wanted them to hurt, as I had. I only wanted to claim what was rightfully mine." Despite the blazing fire in the other feline's eyes, he kept his spine stiff and straight as he said what he needed to say, what she needed to hear. "But I went too far."

 

Something seemed to shift inside Tigress. Her mouth, which had surely been open to deliver some snide, demeaning comment, closed briefly...and then, to his surprise, as if she'd finally begun to realize that just perhaps, there might be some true regret and sorrow within him for what he had done, she spoke without rancor or accusation—although her voice was still quite firm. "Yes. Yes, you did. And someone had to stop you."

 

Even though he knew he really shouldn't, the snow leopard couldn't stop the slightly provoking words. "Is that why you fought me, too? Surely you didn't believe you could win."

 

Tigress almost seemed unaware of his relapse into arrogance. Instead she was staring off into space, across the village rooftops toward the verdant hills surrounding the valley, in the direction of the Thread of Hope. "I had to. It was what I was meant to do."

 

Finally seeming to realize he was staring at her, she sighed, as if extremely reluctant to confide in him...yet somehow she spoke anyway. "The night before we went to face you, I overheard Po and Master Shifu talking. After all that time of putting the panda through the most excruciating, abusive kung fu course imaginable, Shifu was finally willing to make Po into the Dragon Warrior, because Oogway believed in him. And Po wanted him to, if for no other reason than so he could cease being a walking catastrophe waiting to happen. But neither of them knew how they could make it so."

 

She glanced up toward the Jade Palace on its mountaintop, at the late afternoon sun glinting sharply off the golden dragons which stood guard above the tournament arena. "I realized then that I had to give my master time to train Po. Because it was the only way to stop you. Because the panda truly wanted to better himself." She took a deep breath. "Because I was wrong about him."

 

On one level, Tai Lung found all this very interesting, and if it were any other time he would be filing the information away—as moments of weakness he could use against either the Dragon Warrior or Shifu, if nothing else. (The panda who had told him to believe in himself had once wanted to be anything _but_ himself? What hypocrisy! And Shifu's pride was as great as his own, if he couldn't bring himself to train Po as the Dragon Warrior even to stop another rampage of his once-prized student in the valley.)

 

The fact that Shifu seemed to have no difficulty standing up to Oogway when the turtle chose Po, but couldn't do so when it was his own son's future on the line, was also enough to engender a whole new explosion of rage inside Tai Lung. Truth be told, he was severely tempted to confront the red panda about it, and likely would later on, after he'd had the chance to ponder the implications more fully...and, preferably, a very therapeutic session in the training hall. _I can understand why he refused to accept a big, fat panda as the Dragon Warrior...but why didn't he object just as strongly that I **didn't** get chosen...?_

 

For now, however, all he could think—aside from a brief, selfless thought, swiftly squashed, that it was Po she should have been telling this—was that perhaps, for the first time, he had a real chance to get through to Tigress.

 

"Did you ever think," he observed casually, "that Shifu might be wrong about me? That perhaps, just perhaps, I wasn't just a ravening, mindless killer who had to be put out of his misery?"

 

She didn't immediately lash out at him for his temerity, but neither did she express sympathy. In fact at first she didn't seem to have an answer. Then, just when he had given up and started to turn away in disgust, she finally said, "I don't know. I really don't. But I'm not the one who you have to convince."

 

"Oh?" Tai Lung rolled his eyes. "And to whom do I owe that dubious honor? Shifu?"

 

"No." Tigress lifted her gaze to stare at him intently. "You."

 

The snow leopard swallowed whatever he was going to say, stunned into silence.

 

Of course, the striped feline couldn't leave it at that; as she turned back toward the moon bridge and the stairs, she added, "And the villagers, of course."

 

Hearing this, Tai Lung sighed and heaved the baskets back into position, following her with a heavy tread and bowed back, and not only because of his burden. As he caught up with her on the other side of the bridge and began to scale the steps once more, he said, very softly, "Well then, I'm never going to be forgiven, am I? Not if I depend on _their_ good graces."

 

The kung fu master glanced at him, then finally decided to take pity, tugging the straps of one of the baskets off his back and lodging it on her own, then doing the same with one of those on his arms. As she distributed the weight more evenly between them and led the way up the mountain, she replied. "Probably not. But this wouldn't be the first time either of us has been proven wrong. And I meant what I said before...even though I can't believe I said it." Her lips quirked wryly, then relaxed back into seriousness.

 

"If you're really going to change, if you really want to be a hero and a true kung fu warrior, then you won't get anywhere until you believe in yourself. It's your heart that is the true measure of who you are, and it's in there you have to change, before the way anyone else sees you can change."

 

Words of wisdom. But so much easier to say than to put into practice.

 

Peering up toward the Jade Palace, where the afternoon sun already hung above the treetops and red roof tiles, Tai Lung muttered, "That...is going to take a great deal longer, and a great deal more, than the panda thinks. I'm going to need...time to think about this."

 

Smirking at the echo of her earlier words in his cell, Tigress shrugged. "Perhaps you should meditate? I'd never have believed it as a cub, but it works wonders for me. All you need is someplace quiet and peaceful. The Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom?"

 

Tai Lung snorted, and not only because of that place's association with Oogway, the last person he wanted to think about at the moment. "What, you'd let me go there alone?"

 

"There's only one way up or down from there, Tai Lung. And I'll be guarding that." She flashed a gleaming smile at him that showed a little too much teeth. "Unless you'd rather take the shortcut down?"

 

Even though he could tell, amazingly, that she meant her words as a joke, not a true suggestion he commit suicide as she would have meant it just a few days ago, the snow leopard couldn't help but sneer at her. "Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you? Yes, that'd save the world a lot of trouble, I wager. But I'm not a coward!" _And I'm not done with the world yet. Not by a long shot._

 

"No," Tigress said, almost gently. "No, I suppose you're not. Something else we can agree on."

 

And with that rather mystifying statement, as he wondered just what he had said or done to make her see him in a different light—even for a moment—she shouldered her baskets without complaint or protest and boldly ascended the steps, leaving him once again to hurry after her.


	8. A Word of Advice

 

By the time the pair of felines had finally achieved the great doors of the Jade Palace, where Shifu was waiting for them like one of the frowning guardian dragons, Tigress had given her rather clinical report on what had transpired in the village—but admitted, albeit grudgingly, that Tai Lung had neither provoked it nor done anything untoward or destructive—and the supplies had been stowed away in their proper places, it was already almost sunset.

 

And so it was that when the snow leopard trudged up the trail at last to the rugged promontory where the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom stood, with Tigress being true to her word by standing at the foot of the ledge, back propped against the cliff face and legs extended across to block passage, the crimson, orange, and ocher rays of the dying sun had painted the western sky and were bathing the jutting peak with fiery luminescence.

 

They also picked out, quite clearly, the stark silhouette of the tree extending its branches upward...and in spite of himself, Tai Lung came to an abrupt halt, staring upward in disbelief.

 

Even when he still respected and listened to the teachings of the loopy tortoise, the snow leopard had rarely been one to simply sit still and serene, communing with nature and the universe—a failing which Oogway would point to as the first sign of his inner darkness and thus being unfit for the Dragon Scroll, no doubt.

 

But he had never seen much point in it: there was far too much to learn, to see, to do, and the time which would have been lost and wasted on silent contemplations could be better spent on further training, honing himself into the perfected and awe-inspiring kung fu warrior his father had raised him to believe was his destiny.

 

As a result, he had rarely, if ever, come to this lonely spot for meditation or any other spiritual practice; offhand, the only times he could recall making the trip were those when he had been particularly struggling with one of the thousand scrolls and wanted the uninterrupted time and space, without either of his masters constantly watching, assessing, and judging him, in which to master it.

 

Or when his temper had been on the verge of exploding out of control, and even the impetuous and arrogant student he had turned into could see something needed to give before he lost his head completely...and hurt someone he cared for.

 

Obviously, once he had turned his back on Shifu and tried to take the scroll for himself, the peach tree held absolutely no attraction for him whatsoever. Thanks to Chorh-Gom, even if he'd wanted to visit he was kept from doing so for twenty years. And once he was brought to the Jade Palace following his battle with Po, although Shifu, the Five, and the Dragon Warrior had held a small, private ceremony beneath the tree's withered boughs to honor the memory of their beloved Oogway, Tai Lung had of course not been invited—and would not have attended even if he had been.

 

Thus, he had not had a chance to see the change in the tree until now...and even one who cared little for natural beauty, and even less for the Grand Master who had so cherished it, had to be shocked by what he now saw.

 

Leafless...skeletal...its bare limbs and branches rising toward the deepening hues of red and purple like unsheathed claws, or clusters of brambles scraping and slashing desperately at the skies. So utterly empty, alone, and forlorn on its windswept cliff, having given up its blossoms long before it would be in season to do so...yet, at the same time perhaps, long overdue, considering the legend was the tree had remained in perpetual bloom ever since Oogway first came to the Valley of Peace... Surely only hibernating and dormant until its time would come again, yet at first glance it appeared...disconcertingly dead.

_Rather like my chances at redemption and making amends._

 

No. No, he could not allow himself to believe that. If he did, he might as well lay down and die, or let Po use the Wuxi Finger Hold on him again, this time to obliterate him entirely.

 

Trying to shake aside the feelings of despair and dejection threatening to settle over him like a death shroud, Tai Lung pushed aside the dolorous air of this place, instead striding the last few yards up the ledge to the promontory. Ignoring the looming presence of the gaunt tree, he came to a halt beside the upraised slab of rock where Oogway, and later Shifu, had been wont to commune with the universe (or in his father's case, made the woeful attempt and failed utterly).

 

There he paused, gazing out across the panorama of the valley spread out below him...lush and vibrant forests, fresh and teeming with life...the terraced steps of the mountainside, alternately planted with well-watered rice paddies to sustain the villagers and rich, shockingly gorgeous gardens profuse with flowers, trees, and small waterfalls...the lanterns of the distant town, more being ignited as the sun sank lower past the horizon and shadows crept across the valley, looking like fireflies dancing on the breeze...and far beyond it all, tier upon tier of sugarloaf hills rising into the distance until first their peaks, then the massive pinnacles themselves, vanished into the evening mist.

 

After all this time, after twenty years of being chained in a place of darkness, rock, and dust, a place where night was eternal and nothing ever changed, where suffering could crush even the strongest spirit and the paralysis of his body had only been an outer reflection of his heart and his fate, a life that was going nowhere—after all of this, to be free at last, to have the chance to stand in such a wide-open space, behold the world in all its natural splendor, and simply breathe clean, moving air again…something he had taken for granted...it was like crossing over to the realm of the gods.

 

At the same time, this wondrous vista was no nirvana—it was, or had been, his home. At one time, he had marveled at the Valley of Peace, thanked his ancestors every day in his prayers for blessing him with the chance to live in such a hallowed place—and later, for the chance to train with Shifu and his Grand Master. When had he lost the ability to appreciate such beauty? When did he stop looking at the world around him for inspiration and guidance, and decided not to bother with such trifling, simpering pursuits, that only the power mattered and what he could do with it? And how had he possibly lived without it?

 

Then again, perhaps he hadn't been living after all. Perhaps, even before he was sealed in the literal oubliette of Chorh-Gom, he had placed himself in his own lonely prison. Perhaps he had stopped truly being alive when he lost sight of what he was supposed to be protecting. Perhaps only now did he have the chance to come alive again.

 

Leaping nimbly atop the rock, the snow leopard sat down and crossed his legs, even after all these years easily able to adopt the lotus position. There, facing the valley as it lay bathed in the hues of sunset and gradually receded into the velvet cloak of night, he closed his eyes and tried what he had been unable to do for decades: to center himself, to meditate and thereby find peace.

 

It didn't work.

 

Oh, it wasn't for lack of trying or focus. Even now, Tai Lung had an almost preternatural ability to tune out his surroundings if he had to, to ignore the sounds of the wind, nightingales singing in the treetops, the distant voices of the villagers floating from miles below.

 

And the place could not be more suited to inner contemplation—he had traveled outside the valley in his youth with Oogway and Shifu and seen many places worthy of veneration, from the gardens of the Imperial Palace to the stark and severe beauty of the Himalayas, the mountains that had been his people's home for centuries. But none of them could compare with the Valley of Peace.

 

What made it impossible for him was two things. Firstly, that this place had been sacred to Oogway, that everything about it from the sounds and scents to the overall atmosphere, reeked of the aged tortoise who had presided with such magnanimity and wisdom over the valley, guiding it through gentle advice and amusing but sage anecdotes. A fact which both made him feel completely unworthy of this place...and filled him with an unquenchable rage.

_He used to believe in me, once. He loved our conversations_ — _I was so nimble-minded I could do philosophical gymnastics to rival those in the kwoon. He always won our debates, of course, but he enjoyed them. What happened? Damnit, why wasn't I good enough for him?_

 

Gritting his teeth and grinding his claws into his palms, Tai Lung opened his eyes and stared out into a sky nearly the same color as his still-atrocious pants. Giving in to the rather petty and nasty streak he'd nurtured ever since being denied the scroll (and, truth be told, for quite a few years beforehand), he spoke to the empty air. "You're dead, and I'm not. How's that for a twist of fate, eh?"

 

Behind him, the peach tree creaked and groaned in the mountain winds, and for a moment he could swear he heard Oogway's dry, feathery chuckle echoing on the hilltop.

 

Infuriated all over again, he slammed his fists down on his knees and screwed his eyes shut again, but as he tried once more to meditate, the second interference reared its head—and it was much harder to dismiss.

 

For every time he attempted to calm his mind, still his heart to a slow, gentle rhythm, and match his breathing to the same beat, his thoughts kept returning to everyone and everything plaguing him, all that swirled in and around his consciousness, demanding attention...all that had to be dealt with if he ever expected to make a new destiny for himself, let alone find peace.

 

Po...his legendary opponent, the one who had stolen his birthright and mastered its secrets with such annoying ease, who even after soundly trouncing him insisted upon taking pity on the snow leopard—the last thing he wanted from anyone. An overture of friendship from the panda that left him feeling so ambivalent...part of him longing more than anything to accept, the rest of him wishing only to smash his amiable face in.

 

After what happened at the training hall, Tai Lung could not believe Po truly meant to humiliate or hurt him...but to admit to the Dragon Warrior that he'd been wrong, and accept his companionship at the Jade Palace—he didn't know if he could swallow his pride without choking on it, to make that possible.

 

Tigress...a woman so much his equal it was uncanny, as fiery and determined and overbearing as he was. When he'd first met her at the Thread of Hope, after hearing all the stories of the most powerful of the Furious Five trickled down to him by Vachir, he'd fully expected to hate her—if not for sullying the perfection of kung fu by proving a female could master it just as well as he could, then for daring to make such a name for herself that her legend eclipsed his own.

 

But, he reflected wryly, as soon as he'd laid eyes on her—or rather, once she'd soundly smashed him back onto the bridge with a blow that would have caved anyone else's chest in—he'd been entranced by her beauty. And the longer he'd fought her, the more he grew to like and admire her.

 

Yet even if the softening toward him she'd experienced at the village were more than a brief lapse in judgment, he had no idea how he could make her his own, convince her he was willing to change so that the striped feline would be his to possess, claim...and conquer...

 

The villagers...many of whom had once treated him with the same awe and outright worship for his heroics as the Dragon Warrior did, now turned against him—and rightfully so—hating him, despising him, wishing nothing more than to see him hanged from the gallows, beheaded, dragged and crushed under the wheels of a cart, placed in the stocks, or shoved in the deepest pit they could find, the key thrown away. Women weeping, children screaming, men turning their backs on him...he could never earn their trust or forgiveness, not if he had a hundred years to work off his bad karma.

 

And Shifu...the father who had once doted upon him, trained him all he knew, given him every ounce of love he possessed in his small frame, transformed him from a helpless cub to the phenomenal powerhouse and undeniable master of kung fu he had become. The one who had made him believe no other course lay open for him but kung fu, that it was his destiny to be awarded the Dragon Scroll, and who had praised him to the skies until he had genuinely believed he could do anything—whether knock a hole through the Great Wall with one punch or single-handedly defend the Emperor from an army of Huns thousands strong massing around the capital. Hell, if Shifu had told him his _chi_ would one day enable him to walk on air or fly to the moon, he'd have believed the red panda!

 

And he had turned on him...refused to defend him...left him behind because of that insane turtle. Yet now he expected Tai Lung to trust him again, to believe in him once more, simply because he promised to make up for his many failures.

 

How? How could he?

 

The faces danced behind his lids, and before his eyes in the deep blue sky when he opened them, taunting him with memories he wished he could gouge away, gifts and prizes dangled before his paws he longed to snatch away but which he knew instinctively would be forever beyond his reach, and feelings he longed to deny with every fiber in his being.

 

Finally letting out an inarticulate cry of frustration, he slammed his fists down into the boulder, cracking and pulverizing its surface into dust. " _Why_ does this have to be so bloody difficult?"

 

When the painfully familiar voice spoke up from behind him, it was almost a relief from the loneliness and agony of his own thoughts. Almost, because as soon as he knew who had come to visit him, he could feel his terrible temper boiling over, ready to erupt in another rampage of violence.

 

"Oh, my dear boy...this was always the one lesson I feared you would never master."

 

Tai Lung whirled around, fists clenching and lips curling back to bare his fangs despite the fact he knew he could do no injury to his visitor. And indeed, there he was, hovering between two massive roots at the base of the peach tree, looking exactly as he had in life save for a few telltale differences. His perpetual slouch was gone, for he stood up straight and true, as if passing into the next world had granted him strength and surety he had lacked as a mortal.

 

His staff, of course, was conspicuously absent, although he seemed not to have need of it any longer, being a diaphanous spirit. And naturally, he was not physically present—for aside from having an immaterial, vaporous quality to his body, he was actually quite luminous, giving off a pale, rose-pink light that softly illuminated the rocky space around him, and as the snow leopard peered closer he saw the turtle was actually composed of endlessly shifting peach blossoms, dancing and swirling on the breeze.

 

The whole image was one of utter peace, serenity, gentility, and beauty...and it so made him want to retch uncontrollably.

 

"Oh, for the love of—could you _be_ any more cloying?" He spread his paws helplessly, taking in the entirety of the turtle's over-the-top image of enlightened wisdom.

 

Oogway said nothing, merely continuing to smile at him in that vague, vapid way that he'd always found so maddening...as it usually indicated he'd missed something incredibly obvious and the turtle was about to wax eloquent and, perhaps unintentionally, make him feel even more dense.

 

"Let me guess," Tai Lung sneered sarcastically. "You're here to teach me some mystical kung fu technique from beyond the grave, some snatch of knowledge that's supposed to change me into a bleeding pacifist! Or—no, wait, I've got a better one! You've come to say I told you so, that everything you foretold came true, and the darkness in my heart has consumed me, nearly destroyed the valley, and even now threatens my very soul!"

 

Still the turtle said nothing, only regarding him with a mingled sorrow and understanding, as if deeply regretting what the snow leopard had become, but also seeing a way out for him, a hope to guide his path.

 

This only incensed the feline all the more. "Well? Come _on_ , say something, you old nutter! I _know_ you're just dying—hah!—to lord it over me. I _know_ you hate me!"

 

For the first time since he had known the turtle, Oogway actually looked confused...and even hurt. "Why do you say such things, Tai Lung? I have never hated you. Worried for you, been concerned for your future, disapproved of your choices, yes, but never that..." He shook his wrinkled head and fixed his rheumy gaze upon him. Faint amusement tinged his voice. "And you call _me_ crazy."

 

Tai Lung stared at him in disbelief. This made no sense. Had he fallen asleep while meditating, and was only dreaming this conversation? Yes, that had to be it. Because there was no possible way the one who had decreed him to be too full of darkness and evil to ever obtain the Dragon Scroll, the one who had left him a twisted ball of knotted, frozen muscle on the floor of the Hall of Warriors, the one who'd had him hauled away and locked forever in the cruelest restraining device ever devised, could not hate him...

 

As if reading his thoughts, something he had often seemed capable of even when alive, Oogway sighed like a breath of rattling wind and regarded him with even more sympathy and kindness. The snow leopard cringed slightly, for the turtle's attitude filled him with guilt as much as it did contempt.

 

"My boy, you have always been harder on yourself than anyone, even Shifu. It has always been your greatest failing, as well as your greatest strength. We do not grow if we do not challenge ourselves...but do not expect more than you can give, either."

 

And they were back to the cryptic speech. Why had he believed it would be any different? Leaping down off the boulder, he stalked toward the turtle's ghost as if he could truly intimidate him—something he'd never managed to do even in life, a fact which still rankled him even now—or even bring him to blows.

 

Clenching an upraised fist, he snarled, "Enough with the riddles, old man! You're _dead_ , but you still haven't changed, and I've _had_ it up to here with you! Either spit out already whatever you came here to say, or leave...me...alone! D'you hear me?"

 

His sarcasm became the thickest and most repellent he could ever recall it. "And if all you have knocking around in that shell of yours is more criticism disguised as the truths of the universe, then I won't hear of it! Because this is _all_ your fault!"

 

Oogway looked at him, and somehow even though his expression remained as serene and unthreatening as ever, he could sense the disapproval in the old master—and it only made him angrier. "Is it now?" he responded mildly, with a slightly mystified tone—as if he'd just been told the answer to a great riddle of life himself.

 

Tai Lung rolled his eyes. "You're not fooling anyone, you know. Or did slipping into your dotage cost you more than I thought? Let me refresh your memory." He stabbed a thumb into his chest, then pointed it at the turtle. "Me. You. In the Hall of Warriors. Sounding any gongs yet? You remember—the part where you took away everything that gave my life meaning, turned the whole village against me, made all the hard work I'd slaved away at worth less than warm dung, and all because you 'saw too much darkness in my heart'?" He gestured in mid-air to suggest the quotation marks, his tone sneering and constantly hovering on the edge of a vicious growl.

 

"Well, congratulations, Oogway! As you're so fond of saying, you met your destiny on the road you took to avoid it. Because you got exactly what you didn't want—I _never_ would have turned to darkness if you hadn't stolen my life from me! You _made_ me, you old fool. I was a _hero_ once; so many praised me, I had so many dreams, I had such a future ahead of me—and you took it all away with one little word. And you can seriously stand—well, _float_ —there and tell me it's _not_ your fault?"

 

He shuddered violently, his entire frame wracked with convulsions as he struggled not to launch into another rampage...crushing the boulder into gravel, perhaps, or smashing through the peach tree's trunk until it ripped out of the ground and toppled over. "I just hope you're happy..."

 

For several long minutes, silence reigned on the mountain top, while Tai Lung gasped, trembled, and flexed his paws spasmodically, his chest soaked with sweat from the fury of his tirade. Even though anger still had a tight hold on his heart, secretly he felt better than he had in twenty years...he'd been keeping those words bottled up inside him for so very long now. Getting them out felt like being leached of a debilitating poison. Maybe something good would come of this after all.

 

Slowly, the turtle looked up at him. Though his words were as soft-spoken as ever, the reproach in them was unmistakable. "I see. Are you quite through?"

 

When the snow leopard nodded, somewhat sheepishly, Oogway continued, "Good. Because of course, you were only a helpless victim in this. You had no free will in the matter, no ability to choose at all."

 

Tai Lung stared at him again—in confusion, in resentment...but at the last, in shame. For though he would sooner subject himself to leeches than admit it, he knew the turtle was absolutely, infuriatingly right.

 

Whoever had started the downward spiral of his life, whatever confluence of events, emotions, beliefs, and circumstances had conspired to place him in the perfect position for his seemingly inevitable fall, it had been he who took the first step, and the next...and continued taking them, even when a paw had been offered to him in assistance or a light had shone to beckon him back.

 

He was as much to blame as anyone...if not more.

 

A sad little smile took the place of the rather severe look Oogway had been giving him. "Your path has been hard, my boy. Harder than any student's I have ever taught. And you have barely begun to unravel the myriad twists and turns that still lie unseen before you. But now, wisdom at last comes, and you begin to understand. It is true that no one thing, or person, or act can be pointed to as what set you on your course. A single pebble can shift the course of a rockslide, and a single straw can break the ox's back.

 

"But we always have choices, Tai Lung. Choices are the backbone of all we do, all we think, and all we become. Choices are how our karma is measured. And our choices determine our destinies, not our abilities. If something I decided, or Shifu taught you, made your fate more likely...it was still you who chose how you would react. It always was. You still can."

 

"What...what do you mean?" The snow leopard put a paw to his head, a gesture he was becoming far too familiar with, and shook it as if to clear it of cobwebs. "I still don't understand. You say I had a choice to be different. But _you_ were the one who said I had too much darkness in me, and so I couldn't be the Dragon Warrior. Sounds to me like my fate was decided for me after all..."

 

To Tai Lung's shock and puzzlement, not only did the turtle's face—so far as he could tell from the shifting peach blossoms—become more melancholy and distressed than he ever recalled seeing it, but tears actually began to stand in his great luminous eyes, tears that seemed to draw tracks of starfire down his translucent cheeks.

 

"My boy...my poor, wandering child...always you see in absolutes. Everything is black and white to you. Either you are the Dragon Warrior, or you are nothing; there is no middle ground for you. To have darkness in your heart is to be condemned to evil through every incarnation. Is that truly what you think?"

 

Oogway drifted closer to him, holding up one shimmering, stubby-clawed hand in a mute appeal, yet his eyes never wavered, so direct and intense they seemed to bore straight down into Tai Lung's soul...as they always had, which had always made him wrench his gaze away as a student—for he had feared what the turtle might find within him. But this time, he found he couldn't look away, for as always when giving a lesson, his soft, wasted voice was strangely compelling.

 

"Do you not remember...what I taught you? I may have forgotten more things than you ever learned, but you must remember this." A brief twitch of his lips, the faint traces of a wry grin, quickly vanished back into seriousness. "Yin and Yang, my boy...you must recall it..."

 

For a moment he stared blankly at Oogway; then, almost without even thinking about it, the long-ago lesson came back to him, rising up from where it had been buried in his mind, and he recited it by rote, just as he had as a cub: "What one reveals, the other obscures, what was obscured is then revealed. Opposing forces, rooted together, each created in a single movement, they must and always shall be...equal..."

 

He trailed off, as he recalled the last line, suddenly understanding its import for the very first time. "...for if one disappears, the other must disappear as well, leaving only emptiness..."

 

Nodding firmly in approval, for all the world as if the snow leopard had merely performed his figures correctly, the turtle beamed at him. "Yes. Exactly! If you had been patient, and calm, as I always tried to instill in you, and if you had come to me that day twenty years ago, instead of giving in to your rage...that is what I would have explained to you.

 

"What I told Shifu, what I told you, was that you could not receive the Dragon Scroll because you had too much darkness in your heart. Not that you had any at all; _too much_. The Dragon Warrior must be a soul with a pure heart and a clear mind...which, I am afraid, you were not and might never be.

 

"But what on earth ever made you think this doomed you to be evil? There _are_ no absolutes, not when it comes to the soul, my child. The purity you lacked was one of balance, but that is something we all struggle with. You despaired because you could not achieve the scroll. But I have only seen it granted twice in my lifetime, and that includes the panda.

 

"Just because you were not meant to be the Dragon Warrior, does not mean you must discard everything you were taught as useless! Many students with darkness in them still became great warriors."

 

"You...you mean—?"

 

"Look around you, Tai Lung. Is darkness wrong?" Oogway gestured, and the feline saw that, as they had conversed, night had fully fallen, spreading its mantle across the land. The stars twinkled like millions of crystals, while the faint sliver of the crescent moon added its own effulgence to the scene. Everything seemed somehow wondrous, the valley filled with gentle quiet and soothing softness...rather like the concept of Yin, in fact.

 

"It is imbalance that is wrong. You had too much darkness, my boy, because you had too much light."

 

Tai Lung blinked, tried to wrap his mind around this, and failed. "Come again?"

 

Oogway chuckled. "Your Yang outweighed your Yin. Shadows can surround us, ensnare us, make us lose our path. But when the light is brightest around us, we are just as blind."

 

Now, the snow leopard fell to his knees with a _thud_ , collapsing in the dirt and staring at the turtle in anguish and amazement. How...how could he have so deluded himself? His temper, his wrath...they had indeed led to his rampage, and were as dangerous as fire when allowed to run unchecked. But like fire, they could be useful tools if properly controlled.

 

What had set them off in the first place...what had caused him such pain and torment when the Dragon Scroll was denied him...what had been wounded by the implication there could be anything wrong, or lacking, or improper in his heart...was his pride.

 

As he knelt there, shoulders slumped and paws hanging at his sides, stunned by this realization, he felt...something...brush his fur. Not the touch of living flesh, but something more ethereal, the barest breath of a zephyr. Looking up, he saw Oogway's ghostly hand hovering above his shoulder...and something akin to relief in his kind eyes.

 

"We all have darkness in us. It's impossible not to. But just as light illuminates it, darkness sets boundaries on the light. Each is the absence of the other. If we did not have both to guide us, we would not know ourselves. If we were to lose one, there would be no interaction to give rise to our greatest potential. As long as you can learn to keep the two in balance inside you, Tai Lung, then just as the world around us can bring forth beauty and life whether the sun is there or not, you _can_ be a true kung fu warrior, and a hero. You just have to believe in yourself."

 

Tai Lung gripped his thighs, digging his claws into his pants and the thick fur underneath, trembling once more with anger—but this time, not at Oogway. At himself. _Blast it all! When the old codger happens to get something right, he doesn't aim small, does he?_

 

The fact that, for all his wise and introspective speech, he was essentially saying exactly the same as Po had was not lost on the snow leopard either. _Seems when I choose the wrong way, I don't aim small either. More like fail spectacularly._

 

Sighing, he peered up morosely at the turtle, who had silently given him time to consider his words...for their meaning to truly sink in to his thick, bony skull. "I totally screwed up, didn't I?"

 

"Totally." Was that a smile he spied through the winking blossoms?

 

"You were right all along, and I was wrong."

 

"Absolutely." Now he _knew_ Oogway's eyes were twinkling mischievously.

 

"I never deserved the Dragon Scroll, because I wasn't ready."

 

"No, you didn't. And no, you weren't."

 

Nettled, Tai Lung snarled softly. "D'you mind? I'm trying to apologize here."

 

Oogway spread his misty hands in acceptance. "Oh by all means, please continue."

 

The snow leopard sighed again, shaking his head, which suddenly felt ten times heavier. "I was an idiot, an ass, and worst of all, a spoiled cub who never grew up. I don't even know who I am anymore. Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I would be, all revolved around that damn scroll."

 

He paused, then narrowed his golden eyes. "Of course, Shifu's as much to blame for that as I am."

 

"That I do not deny." The turtle sighed too, clasping his hands in a surprisingly nervous motion, his smile fading into sorrow and contrition again. "What you became, came by his own hand. He was convinced, once he saw you in Master Golden Takin's hall, that you would be the Dragon Warrior. And no matter how I tried to dissuade him, his will was set in stone. I believed that this was Shifu's journey to make, to learn from, and so I allowed him to proceed as he saw fit. But I neglected to consider his journey was also yours, that the forks in your road would be placed there by Shifu, for good or for ill."

 

Oogway paused again, then spoke very softly, regretfully. "I did not foresee where this would all lead. I did not see how you were changing, and step in to stop Shifu before it had gone too far. An old man's mistake. I hope one day, you can forgive me."

 

It was the last thing Tai Lung ever expected to hear from the aged turtle's mouth. And although on some level he had longed for it, even gloated to hear it, all through his score-long imprisonment, now that he finally received it...he had absolutely no idea how to handle it. Not when he was painfully aware how gravely he had erred, and how much more terrible the repercussions had been. What was the point in holding a grudge? The past could not be changed. And yet...

 

Finally, he said, with simple and real honesty, "I don't know."

 

Unsurprisingly, Oogway seemed to take this in stride, perhaps even expected it, only nodding slowly. "Very well. That is as fine an answer as 'yes' or 'no.' And it is all I came to hear. Except, one other thing." Once again he fixed his moon-shaped eyes on Tai Lung. "I came to tell you that, while this too is also your own choice, I strongly urge you to accept Shifu's offer."

 

The snow leopard glanced sidelong at him, suddenly wary. "Why? So I can purge the darkness and pride from my heart?" He couldn't keep his old companion, sarcasm, from his tone.

 

"No—although that is rather a good idea, too." Oogway chuckled briefly. "It is because, however many mistakes he made in raising you, Shifu still loves you. This is his second chance as well as yours. And because...you will be needed. You have a destiny to fulfill, the same which kept me from giving you the Dragon Scroll all those years ago."

 

Before Tai Lung could protest, he held up a hand for silence. "Even if your heart had been as light and unburdened as Po's, I still would not have given it to you. It would have interfered with what you have to do."

 

"And that is...?" he managed to blurt out at last.

 

"I cannot tell you." Tai Lung fought the urge to grab what wasn't there, so he could hoist the turtle high and shake him, as he had Shifu when the panda refused to give him the scroll. "To do so would be to render it meaningless. You can only do what must be done if you come to your task willingly, without being forewarned of it. Your choice will decide everything—but it cannot be over-thought. I can tell you this—it will come from being true to who you are. All sides of you."

 

The snow leopard groaned and ran his paw down over his muzzle. "That's as clear as ditchwater."

 

Oogway shrugged apologetically, starting to turn away toward the cliff face. "Clear, not clear. Ditch water, don't ditch water. It will all make sense, eventually. You will understand."

 

Glancing back over his shoulder, the humor suddenly gone from his tone, he spoke with a grim finality Tai Lung had never heard from him before. "Someone is coming. Someone I cannot hold back any longer. While I lived, I did what I could to keep him at bay. But now the time has come to face him, once and for all. That is why I freed you of the dark _chi_ that lay trapped within you. That is why you must listen to Shifu, and obey your father as you never have before, even though you doubt him. Be ready, and mindful."

 

Utterly bewildered now, but feeling a strange surge of dread and worry crawling up his spine, the snow leopard could only nod mechanically. "I...I will try."

 

"Good. Oh...and if you would, bring my staff by, the next time you happen to visit."

 

Giving up completely on trying to follow the leaps in Oogway's thought processes, Tai Lung could only laugh weakly. "So you can knock sense into me, I suppose?"

 

"I'm not sure my poor old stick is tough enough for that." The snow leopard did a double-take, but the turtle still stood before him with the same saintly visage as ever. _Either I'm starting to lose my hearing, or the old coot's a lot sharper-witted...and tongued...than I thought._

 

"No," Oogway continued blithely, "you must bring it to me because there will be need of it, before your destiny has played out."

 

Rubbing uncomfortably at the back of his neck, Tai Lung looked away, once again unable to meet the old master's eyes. "Ah...yes. Well. About...that. You _do_ know it's...rather...not in one piece anymore?" _Could this be any more awkward?_

 

But strangely enough, Oogway was smiling. "Not for long, my boy. Because when you bring it here, you will fix it for me."

 

Now he knew the reptile had to be pulling his leg. "What do I look like, a woodcarver?"

 

The tortoise grinned, then waggled a finger at him chidingly. "Just consider it a favor to your old master...after all, how better to show you apologize, hmm?"

 

Posting his fists on his hips, Tai Lung pursed his lips thoughtfully at that fairly low blow. "You're a lot more evil than you look, old man."

 

Oogway's expression became, if possible, even more sly. "You should have seen me in my youth! Anyway, simply bring it here when the moon is full again, and you'll find everything...coming together." Another mysterious—and far too amused—chuckle...and then he began to drift toward the promontory as a breeze sprang up out of nowhere to swirl and flow around him, stirring the peach blossoms into a dance of ecstatic delight.

 

Rising to his feet, Tai Lung followed him until, just as he reached the boulder again, Oogway held up a hand to ward him away. Turning back to face him, his shell already becoming a blazing corona of otherworldly light, the sage clasped his hands before him as if in prayer...the tears he had shed beforehand turning now to petals of the palest blue.

 

"Just remember Yin and Yang, my boy...find your balance, and you'll be all the hero you can stand. Listen to Shifu...he has just as much need of this, as you do..."

 

And with those words, he dissolved into mist and a shimmering, lambent halo of sweet-smelling blooms, carried away on the wind to join with the broad swath of diamond-like stars...leaving a very confused, awed, and overwhelmed Tai Lung alone, under the vast canopy of midnight blue, with his even more distracted and uncertain thoughts...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter allowed me to do my first deeper research into Yin and Yang, and touch on how the filmmakers with their Western sensibilities screwed up on the nature of darkness versus light—the sort of traits they ascribed to Tai Lung as 'darkness' are actually associated with Yang, which is the light half of the duality. As anyone who's read _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ will know, it was originally intended to correlate Po with Yin-Yang as well due to his coloring. I'm not going to be as obvious as that, but expect that point to be touched on in another way in the future. And as for why Oogway was so straightforward for the most part rather than using his typical playful speech and sayings, at this point only being direct and aboveboard was going to get through to Tai Lung.


	9. Decisions

 

The pale beams of morning sunlight streamed into the Jade Palace, through gaps between the boards which had been nailed as a makeshift barrier across the huge, yawning holes where Tai Lung had smashed the main doors into splinters, and across the aged, worn marble that comprised the floor of the Hall of Warriors. They also poured across the absolutely still, poised form of Crane where he stood half-bent over alongside the door to an adjoining chamber, head cocked at a sharp angle so he could hear the raised voices speaking from inside.

 

If the rest of the masters watching his every move had not been aware of his foray into espionage, they'd have been unable to miss him thanks to the rays setting off the sparkling plumage of his guard feathers, shining a pristine white beneath the dark gray pinfeathers layered atop them—like it or not, he stood out like a beacon on a hillside. And the bright light also made him grateful once again for the straw hat he wore, as it shaded his eyes from what otherwise would have been rather irritating blindness.

 

But it was quite necessary, as the future of the Furious Five, the Jade Palace, perhaps even the Valley of Peace, hinged upon what would be said and decided by the pair conversing in the antechamber.

 

About Po, there could be no question which way he would vote; with every hour that he passed in the snow leopard's company, the panda seemed to become ever more a devoted fan and personal champion of Tai Lung, rather like one of the commissioned poets in the Forbidden City whose role it was to extol the Emperor in complex, high-class verse.

 

Everywhere he went in the village, the Dragon Warrior struck up random conversations with storeowners, schoolteachers, and travelers, employing his usual brand of subtlety to nudge all the local storytellers to "tell the one about Tai Lung and the Four-Armed, Yak Demon God of Fire, I haven't heard it in _years._ "

 

Or commenting to anyone who would listen, "Hey, did you ever hear about the time Tai Lung beat the Crocodile Bush-bandits blindfolded with one paw tied behind his back? Yeah, those were the days..."

 

And while he seemed to know better than to loudly proclaim the snow leopard's dubious virtues when Tigress or Monkey was about, the next time he strode down the halls of the temple jokingly (at least, he _hoped_ it was a joke) suggesting they should all make way for the Master of the Thousand Scrolls, there was no question Po was going to get hogtied, slashed with the Thousand Cuts of Death, and left beneath dripping water for days on end; it was just a matter of who got to him first.

 

Yet Viper also remained surprisingly adamant in her defense of Tai Lung, insisting the feline deserved a second chance to prove he could once again be a hero for the valley. Whether this was wishful thinking on her part; her experiences with her own deeply loving family pushing her to try to help Shifu and his adopted son reclaim what they had once possessed; or, the avian thought sarcastically, the romantic reptile being swayed by a well-endowed male with a gorgeous body, he had no idea.

 

Crane himself was only too happy to assist, no matter what had happened at the Thread of Hope—for one who would still be a lowly janitor if not for the encouragement of a dear friend, he understood all too well how important it was to stand by people who needed you. After the unusual results of the acupuncture session and how it had seemed to change the snow leopard's outlook, Mantis had warily agreed to at least not stand in the way of Shifu's new training. And Monkey, though still extremely suspicious and distrustful of the ex-convict, had reluctantly agreed he would go along with the majority.

 

Which meant that the crux of the decision lay squarely on one person, the one who, in truth, it had always been up to all along. And it was she Crane was listening to with such avidness, as she was questioned closely on the topic which was most central to all their minds...

 

Master Shifu was speaking first. "Very well, that's about the best that can be hoped for. I knew the villagers would hardly be happy with my judgment, but I needed to know exactly how deep their hatreds and fears ran before I could proceed. Not very encouraging, perhaps...but at least they didn't gut him on sight. It does complicate my plan somewhat, though..."

 

He sighed, then there came the sound of swishing fabric, presumably as he moved closer to Tigress. "But what about you? Am I going to have to worry about _you_ gutting him as well, every time I turn my back?"

 

A snort, then a muttered reply. "Don't think I haven't been tempted. And the verdict's still out on that one." After a long pause, she spoke again, her voice surprisingly harsh and judgmental. "Why are you asking me, Master? You know all you have to do is give the word, and I'll comply whether I like it or not. I won't ever disobey you."

 

The note of challenge accompanying those last words made the implication more than clear: _Unlike Tai Lung_.

 

"No, of course you wouldn't. Except for the time, not too long ago, when you raced off to the Thread of Hope, without my permission, against my express orders, and nearly got yourself and the rest of the Five killed."

 

Even though Shifu's tone was deceptively mild, Crane could hear the hiss that accompanied Tigress's wince. "Um, yes. Except for that."

 

The bird wondered idly if she was showing one of her highly rare blushes, even as he privately recalled more than a number of times when she had, if not outright disobeyed, at least skirted the boundaries of their master's good graces...

 

"That isn't the point though, Tigress," the red panda continued as if the matter were of no moment. "Your opinion matters to me. I want to hear your reasoning on this, and know where you stand. Frankly, whether you will be working at cross purposes with me or not." Shifu paused, then added sardonically, "Because ordering you won't do any good if you don't obey."

 

Tigress sighed heavily. "I know what you're trying to do, Master. I really do. And I sympathize. But even if this works...and I highly doubt that it will...well...do you want my honest opinion?"

 

"I would not have asked if I didn't."

 

"I think you're insane. Absolutely, certifiably nuts."

 

Now it was Crane's turn to wince.

 

Silence for a few moments, during which the bird could only guess at the expressions flickering across Shifu's face, though surely that trademark eye twitching of his had to be one of them. Then, after clearing his throat uncomfortably, the panda began, "Blunt as always, I see. Well—"

 

"I wasn't finished." By her silhouette on the wall, Tigress had held up a paw to forestall him. "I think you're crazy _...but_ , I trust you. I don't trust Tai Lung, not half as far as I could throw him. But I know why you want to do this...and though I believe you are setting yourself up for a terrible disappointment, Master...I will help you do this. I will let him stay."

 

Crane blinked, fought the urge to wriggle a feather in his ear. _Who are you, and what have you done with Master Tigress?_

 

Shifu seemed to be of the same incredulous opinion, as after another few moments he said dryly, "Are you certain you're feeling well, Tigress?"

 

From the sound of her voice, it almost seemed as if the feline was almost as entertained by the suggestion as her teacher was. But she remained solemn and focused all the same. "Quite well, Master. And don't get me wrong, this would be only a temporary stay. If he fails to shape up as spectacularly as I expect, he'll be out of here faster than sweat off an elephant's back when the sun's shining.

 

"Even if he does as well as you hope, I think even you will agree he can't stay here forever. The citizens of the Valley will never accept him...and all things considered, he would probably do better beginning a new life somewhere else. But...now that I have given the matter more thought, I agree he should at least get a chance."

 

"Hmm. And what, pray tell, is responsible for this sudden turnaround in your outlook?" Shifu's voice was unmistakably laced with amusement. "Since last I heard, you were quite ready to have Tai Lung flayed and roasted alive. Or put to death for his crimes. Or at least given the rough edge of your tongue."

 

Tigress inhaled sharply. "Who was it who told you? Was it Viper?"

 

The red panda chuckled. "No—you did. Just now." A beat, then, "It wasn't exactly hard to figure out, Tigress. I've known you how many years now, and raised you from an orphaned cub?"

 

Even as Crane was silently congratulating Shifu on achieving a new level of evilness, the master of the Tiger style had managed to gather her tattered dignity about her and responded with aplomb, even diffidence. "Seventeen, sir. And I'd rather not go too much into it. Let's just say I have seen and heard things from Tai Lung that, if they haven't convinced me entirely, are at least somewhat encouraging."

 

The bird could almost hear the gears turning in Shifu's head, but before he could register his disapproval and demand a more satisfactory answer, Tigress continued, "Now, may I ask you a question, Master?"

 

"Yes..." the panda ventured uncertainly.

 

"Why is it _you_ are so ready to forgive him and welcome him back? Because, if you don't mind my saying so, only two weeks ago you were terrified at the thought of him escaping and coming back for his revenge."

_That_ was a very good question, and Crane strained his ears to hear what answer Shifu would give. After a few moments of flabbergasted silence, the kung fu master spoke solemnly. "There are many reasons for that, Master Tigress. Some which I choose not to go into presently, and some which I cannot.

 

"But one thing I can tell you, which will most likely calm your worries, is this: I did not expect the panda to even decipher the mechanism of the Wuxi Finger Hold, let alone to employ it against Tai Lung. And it is the fact he did that makes all the difference."

 

"But why...?"

 

"There are two possible results when a kung fu master dares to use the Wuxi Finger Hold," Shifu intoned. "Well, three. But we never talk about the third...anyway, it all depends on the heart and intent of the master. If I, or you, had used the hold against Tai Lung, he would now be dead. Utterly blown to smithereens. Consumed and vaporized by our _chi_ until not a trace of him was left.

 

"However, the Dragon Warrior is different. His is a heart untainted by cynicism, hatred, or vengeance. His kindness, generosity, and dare I say it, innocence made him a completely different sort of warrior...one which, I am sad to admit, has not been seen in China for several dynasties. One which has sorely been lacking and in need of renewal."

 

Crane's breath rasped in his throat, and while he was on the verge of hurriedly summoning Po to his side so he could hear this, somehow he couldn't tear himself away from the door.

 

"In short, there is not a malicious bone in the panda's body," Shifu concluded. "So when he used the Wuxi Finger Hold, he did so not to destroy, but to create. Not to obliterate, but to wipe the slate clean. Instinctively, of course, all without even being aware of it. But he did it all the same.

 

"I'm certain you noticed, after the final battle had ended, that all the damage to the valley, and the town, had been repaired and restored by the wave of Po's _chi_?" Tigress must have nodded, because he continued with a touch of vindication. "That is the other manner in which the hold can be used. Po did not kill Tai Lung; he saved him. He washed away Tai Lung's anger, his hatred, his insanity...leaving him purified."

 

Tigress snorted, began to speak, but Shifu cut her off. "My son is hardly an enlightened soul. Nor has he been purged of his darkness, his pride, his vicious temper. No power on earth can do that. But he has been given another chance. If we act now, if we can show him the way, he has every possibility of choosing the right path, and redressing his own balance. His destiny, his heart, his very self, perch on a dagger's edge. And I will be _damned_ if I let this chance pass me by without trying to save him!"

 

His jaw clacked shut with a _snap_. "I may not succeed. Even restored as he is, he may be beyond my reach. But I have. To. Try." Each of his final words was emphasized by the sound of his staff striking the floor.

 

More silence, stretching out an impossibly long time, until even the infamously patient Crane was tempted to clear his throat just to break it. Then, at last, Tigress replied—in resignation, but also in acceptance.

 

"All right, Master. I can see your mind is made up. I don't believe Tai Lung deserves the devotion and loyalty you're giving him—you're practically bending over backwards for him. But if you're even half-right about him...then I hope you succeed. It is...an admirable goal."

 

"Thank you for your approval," Shifu said dryly. "Now, we should be getting on with this. The day is wearing on...and I do believe Master Crane's shoulder must be sore after leaning on the doorjamb for so long."

 

It took a moment for that to sink in. Then... _Oh, no. Busted! But how did he know...?_ Hurriedly scrambling back from the doorway, Crane rose up to his full height, adopting as dignified and serious a pose as he could muster, and started to back away from the antechamber. "Oh! I am _so_ sorry, Master. Didn't mean to disturb you—I was just coming to see if you were ready, everyone is here and gathered by the Moon Pool. Ah, just the way you asked me to."

 

Shifu wasn't buying it, of course, a very knowing and suggestive smirk on his face as he pushed the door aside to grant him and Tigress entrance into the Hall of Warriors. But in a rare fit of mercy, he allowed the matter to drop. "Very good. Then have everyone line up. Assuming they haven't done so already."

 

Crane hurried back to the others and passed the message along. As Tigress joined the rest of the Five and each of them took their assigned places, waiting breathlessly for Shifu to bring the meeting to order, the bird took a few moments to reflect on why, exactly, their master had chosen to gather them here, as opposed to the dormitories or even the arena.

 

The red panda had never been known for his subtlety—the "pointers" he had given them just before Grand Master Oogway imparted his vision of Tai Lung's escape had actually been rather covert for him. And it wasn't as if the evidence of the terrible battle which had been fought here was unobtrusive. Aside from the shattered doors and the gaping hole in the front porch where the snow leopard had smashed a boulder free that Shifu had barely in time turned into rubble, there were marks and signs of the combat everywhere.

 

Cracks and chunks missing from many of the pillars lining the hall...several craters in the walls where the two masters had repeatedly smashed each other into what should have been unyielding stone...the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass, still embedded in one of the columns...a sword from the weapons rack, similarly buried in the marble floor...and of course, the beams of sunlight spearing down from above, through the holes which had been smashed through the roof tiles.

 

Many of these repairs would require specialized craftsmen from the village, and still others—such as the damaged marble—would entail the transport of rare, expensive materials from distant quarries. All of them would cost a fortune, and even taking into account the size of the palace coffers, it was no surprise Shifu hadn't gotten around to drawing up a list and getting the repair crews moving.

 

But the fact he'd still chosen to bring Tai Lung before them, to learn whether he would accept the red panda's offer, and had done so _here_...well, the symbolism could not be lost even on the snow leopard. Remind the felon of just what he had done, what he was guilty of, and how serious his offenses were—so that if there were any hesitation or lack of commitment on his part, it could be brought out in the open now, before Tai Lung wasted all of their time.

 

Perhaps not the wisest move, as the feline was hardly the sort to respond well to such tactics, but being obscure and mysterious wasn't the way to go either.

 

Then again, perhaps Shifu had only wanted, by contrast, to show Tai Lung what he would be working toward and just what glories could one day be his...by gathering them all in front of the many sacred artifacts of kung fu housed here. Crane knew for a fact that every time he entered the Hall of Warriors, he was as awed and inspired as he had been the day he'd first arrived from the Li Dai Academy.

 

The Ninja Weapons of Master Dog, gifts from his rescue of Lady Lotus Blossom and said to contain the tears of her blacksmith father which had been wept into the blades during their forging...how he would love to wield them in battle!

 

The Ring Blades of the Grand Masters Twin Weasels, which Shifu had granted him the use of _once_ —and after single-handedly severing a thousand-year-old bridge of stone in Yunnan province, plunging an army of Sumatran tigers into a jungle ravine, he dearly yearned to carry them again.

 

The Sword of Heroes, which if legends were true had once been employed by Shifu himself. The Invisible Trident of Destiny...which Crane, in typical down-to-earth fashion, had actually asked the red panda how he knew it was really there if it was invisible; a demonstration had soon followed which had proven its reality, one the bird would never forget.

 

And then...there was the Urn of Whispering Warriors.

 

Glancing sidelong at the pedestal where the legendary relic had once stood, Crane couldn't help but flash back to a few days ago, just after Tai Lung and Tigress had returned from the village supply run. The snow leopard had, for the first time, noticed that the urn was gone from its usual resting place—and for a few moments, when he had mistakenly believed it had been inadvertently smashed during his battle with Shifu and he'd never even noticed, Tai Lung had been absolutely mortified.

 

Seeing the real pain and despair in those golden eyes, as the feline had clutched at his chest as if his heart had been constricted, it had been a toss-up as to who was more startled, and even moved—Tigress, or Monkey.

 

When Mantis had instead thoughtlessly blurted out that Po had been the one to break it, and in a fit of clumsiness no less, not even Monkey and Tigress together could hold the righteously furious snow leopard back from trying to batter the panda to a pulp. Only when Crane had intervened, and explained that Zeng and the other palace messengers were gluing the broken urn together, had Tai Lung relented and let the Dragon Warrior be.

 

The whole incident had startled all of the Five, Tigress most of all...especially when, in an attempt to make amends with his new hero, Po had retold the story of the Warriors of Tenshu and how deeply he admired and respected their courage and honor. To hear Tai Lung recite along with his former adversary the rallying cry of "hold fast, brothers, hold fast" while tears stood in both their eyes had been...touching, and, to Tigress and Monkey at least, troubling.

 

Crane wondered, in retrospect, if this were one of the "somewhat encouraging" things Tigress had witnessed to change her mind—like the occasions in the last several days when several of the Five had come to bring food to Tai Lung's cell, only to discover him horrified, sweat-soaked, tightly embracing himself, or even in the midst of jerking awake from what had clearly been terrifying nightmares—or if more had happened between her and the snow leopard than she was telling...

 

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as Shifu at last cleared his throat and tapped his staff—gently—on the cracked steps leading up to the Moon Pool. At once every member of the Five instinctively stood ramrod-straight and at attention, just as they did when greeted each morning in the bunkhouse—even, Crane noted humorously, Tai Lung.

 

The snow leopard also looked better than he had in the last week, the reason for which wasn't precisely clear. Granted, he'd finally taken a bath in the immediate aftermath of his acupuncture session, and had done so again today at the behest of both Po and Viper, with the end result that his spotted pelt was cleaner, fluffier, and softer than it had any right to be—certainly than it had been during the years of his incarceration, since Crane didn't exactly believe fur care products were high on Vachir's list of necessities. (The thought of the rhinoceros guards washing, drying, and brushing their lone prisoner was perhaps a little too droll for his own good.)

 

Maybe it was the new clothing which the palace seamstress had fashioned for him from the fabrics Tigress had purchased. Even Crane, who had to admit fashion was hardly his forte, had to agree the snow leopard looked much more dashing than he'd ever seen him. A pair of deep blue trousers, in the same style and material as his old indigo ones, now clad his lower half, while a dark green, high-collared shirt with gold trimming concealed his bulky torso—rather like Tigress's formal garb, although made of wool, not silk.

 

His pride in his new garments was offset somewhat by how overheated he appeared, for even with the sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons undone, Tai Lung was continually tugging at his collar, his thick pelt already starting to soak through with sweat while his breaths became deep and labored as the heat of the day intensified. Crane imagined, though, that this rather miserable state was exactly what Tigress had been hoping for when she chose the material. But why she would have chosen those exact colors for Tai Lung, he could only speculate...

 

Not at the moment, however. Because as soon as Shifu had all of the Five's attention and had glanced pointedly at the massive feline, a brief scuffle broke out as Po did his level best to shovel Tai Lung forward while the snow leopard tried to resist.

 

Listening to the panda gently chastise his 'enemy', then smooth out his clothes and offer heartfelt encouragement ("Oh stop it, buddy, you look great! Now, go knock 'em dead—uh, you know what I mean..."), Crane had to duck his head even farther beneath his hat and conceal a broad grin behind his wing.

_Looks like I'll have to find a new job around here. And Tai Lung doesn't stand a chance with Po as the den mother._

 

"Well." Shifu leaned his staff against a pillar and clasped his hands at the small of his back. "The time has come, Tai Lung. I think you've been given more than enough opportunity to consider your options...which, I am sorry to say, are few. You've seen how things are likely to be around the Jade Palace, at least for the immediate future...and I won't lie to you, neither the training I intend to give you nor the challenges you'll be facing from all sides will be easy.

 

"Of course I don't even need to ask whether you feel you are up to these challenges—for one who mastered the thousand scrolls and set his sights on becoming the Dragon Warrior, I already know you are capable of withstanding any amount of pain and suffering if it will bring you what you seek.

 

"But that is the most important point of all. Do you want this? Is this truly something you will pledge your life and your fate to? I cannot make you accept my offer, not unless you truly wish to redeem yourself. And while you can't exactly be allowed the freedom to wander China, and the Jade Palace is essentially the only place where you can expect any sort of welcome...it will still do you no good unless you actively choose it for yourself. So...what have you decided?"

 

For a moment the Hall of Warriors was silent, save for the echoes of Shifu's voice dying away from the vaulted ceiling and the occasional cough or rustle of fabric as one of the Five shifted in place. Then Tai Lung chuckled, low and throaty, as he regarded the red panda with a lopsided smirk that was at once dismissive and genuinely amused.

 

"Well, when you put it that way, and make it sound _so_ attractive, Shifu, how could I possibly refuse? Yes, a real lark, that..."

 

Before anyone could say anything (though Crane was sure he could see Tigress bristling out of the corner of his eye), the snow leopard continued. "You're right, of course, I don't have a lot of choices for where I go from here. But then, that would be true even without your offer. I know now that no matter how hard I try, the Dragon Scroll will never be mine—not unless it's many years in the future.

 

"But that was the only thing I ever wished to attain, all that ever gave my life meaning. Without it, I need to find...something else, something more. I don't know what just yet. But I'll know it when I find it." He made a face. "Good grief, now _I'm_ starting to sound like Oogway..."

 

The feline sighed, then glanced sidelong at Po and the Five—for some reason, his gaze lingering longest on Tigress. "I can't begin to imagine how I could ever make up for the terrible things I've done. Or how I can control myself, and keep from ever repeating them. But...I want to. I need to at least give it a chance, before I toss away my life and everything you ever taught me.

 

"If there's even the slightest possibility I could succeed, and be the hero I always dreamed of being, then I have to take it, and see it through to the end." His golden eyes fixed unerringly on Shifu's blue ones. "I don't want my life to be summed up with the words 'if only.'"

 

Someone—Crane thought it was Viper—gasped softly. But the red panda's posture and expression never wavered, as if he were fashioned of stone. "Then...I take it you're accepting?"

 

For answer, the haughty snow leopard pressed his right fist into the open palm of his left handpaw, directly in front of his breastbone...and slowly bowed in the proper kung fu manner. Now Crane knew he heard Po squeak.

 

"Yes...Master. I still don't know what you hope to make of me...or whether I can trust you to do things right this time. But...I'm going to take the chance, while I still have it."

 

Whatever Shifu would have said in reply, no one ever got to hear it. Because, just as the old master half-closed his eyes and gave a nod and a small smile of relief, the Hall of Warriors suddenly erupted with loud cheers, whoops, and hollers as the Dragon Warrior began pumping his fists in the air, dancing wildly in place, and chanting Tai Lung's name as if he were already the greatest hero in China.

 

Unsurprisingly, this outburst of frivolity and merriment was short-lived...for after staring at Po in disbelief for several moments, Monkey's eyes flashed and he balled his fists. "Okay, that is _it_ , Po! I've had it, no more acting like Tai Lung's better than your dad's soup or something!" Immediately he leaped at the Dragon Warrior and started pummeling him into submission. Gently, of course, since they were friends.

 

As the simian shouted random disparagements of the panda, including accusations that made it very clear he knew who had been stealing his almond cookies, Viper tried vainly to intervene, wrapping her coils around Monkey's arms to hold him back. Mantis rather looked as if he wished he'd been placing bets on the outcome, while Tigress was studiously avoiding looking at Tai Lung, Po, or anyone else, apparently finding something extremely fascinating in a nearby silkscreen. Shifu and the snow leopard himself, oddly, had struck the exact same pose of hiding their eyes behind a paw and groaning in despair.

 

Crane could only shake his head. _My, we live in such interesting times. Do I even want to know what will happen next?_

                                                                      

* * *

 

Many leagues to the north, at the place where the province of Xinjiang met the far western border of Mongolia, howling winds drove knife-like blades of ice in a whirling frenzy all about the peaks, ledges, and cliff faces of the frigid massif known as Tavan Bogd, marring the rough, granite surface of the mountain range...and the sole fortress carved within its heart...with scratches and cracks, as if it had been formed by natural erosion rather than the hands of man.

 

Blinding snow swirled from the heavens, blanketing the earth, making it impossible to see farther than a few feet before one's face. Across the vast wastes of the barren countryside, all features of the landscape were scoured clean by the endless snowstorm, packed ice and snowdrifts hundreds of feet high creating a repetitive vista of eternal winter, enshrouding every inch of ground as far as the eye could see, and far beyond that extent as well.

 

Yet somehow, even through this concealing white haze that seemed determined to leach all warmth, life, and soul from the land and its inhabitants, the dark silhouette perched atop its rocky outcropping—nearly buried in the mounding snow—could still be seen, clear and stark as if lighted by a smoldering fire from deep within.

 

It was ruined, of course, thanks to Tai Lung's incredible and awe-inspiring escape almost a month ago—parts of it half-collapsed into rubble, whole segments of towers and battlements smashed into unrecognizable fragments by the explosives, the mighty gates now only a gaping hole more like the yawning mouth of some monstrous creature forever screaming its agony to the skies, while greasy columns of churning black smoke still rose from deep within its interior.

 

But Chorh-Gom had been built to withstand anything, whether earthquakes, the violence of the elements, or the endless capacity for destruction its sole prisoner had possessed. Its battered shell would likely stand for centuries still, a testament to the ingenuity and devotion of its builders...a monument to Tai Lung's legend, that he should need such a place to house him...and a mausoleum for the hundreds of sentries whose lives had been lost there.

 

Not every rhinoceros had died, of course. Many had managed to escape the prison just before it became a fiery furnace of Hell, deciding discretion was the better part of valor and living to fight another day could hardly be called cowardice—not when it was the scourge Tai Lung they had been facing.

 

Still others had survived the blast that had left them groaning and crumpled in the snow, bruised and battered and in some cases horribly disfigured and burned. These lucky souls upon whom Kuan Yin had smiled had managed to bury those of their clansmen who had not been so fortunate, thus creating a fairly sizable graveyard on the vast ledge fronting the keep.

 

But the roiling flames, crumbling platforms, and generally unstable nature of Chorh-Gom's interior had kept them from returning inside—whether to try and rescue any of their comrades, fetch prized possessions, or gather more bodies for proper interment.

 

Then, too, terrible fear and superstition had also warded them away—for some of the rhinoceroses swore Tai Lung had not been a snow leopard at all, but a demon come to feast upon their still beating hearts...or at least, that he'd had the aid of something supernatural and unknown. For what else could explain his uncanny ability to thwart all their traps and weapons and escape without so much as a scratch on him?

 

As a result, those of their kinsmen whom they could not save were left abandoned to rot in the cold and darkness, or else entombed in the miles of tunnels and shattered rock...their spirits left to wander the mountain forever, wailing in a bitter inability to gain the vengeance they craved, which would allow them to pass to the next world in peace.

 

And they were not the only things sealed away there.

 

Within the chill, ominous shadows of Chorh-Gom…past the piles of rock that had once been stalactites, the ruined guardhouses and busted lanterns...beyond the collapsed bridges and walkways, the splintered remains of the wooden elevator, and the suspended, massive links of chains clinking and rattling with hollow emptiness against towers with lonely windows staring out like the eyeless sockets of bare skulls in the gloom...even below the pinnacle on which Tai Lung had been restrained for twenty years, in the depths of a chasm that many had whispered was bottomless...something stirred. Lusted. _Hungered_.

 

He had been here long before the prison was ever constructed. His reach had once extended across the breadth of China, granting him power and control over every being from the richest Emperor to the lowliest servant. He had cast his shadow over the Valley of Peace before Shifu had been more than a twinkle in his father's eye...a shadow driven back and restrained only by one whose light was greater, stronger, and more pure than he could ever hope to defeat.

 

But now Oogway was gone. The final barrier had been broken, and the power he sought, the true dominion over all, and the ability to shape destinies, souls, and civilizations into the glory he foresaw for them was now at last within his grasp.

 

He had waited...oh so patiently, oh so carefully, knowing that this day would come...feeling the turtle's wisdom, presence, and _chi_ fading from the land with every passing month, like the color from a painting allowed to stand bathed beneath the sun for too long. He had bided his time, for in his companion within the darkness, he had held his ace.

 

And now, he was free.

 

Tai Lung was gone, of course. Inflamed by his mad, bloody thirst for revenge, power, and utter mastery, he had needed no more than, ah, a _feather's_ urging to make good his escape. So much slaughter...so much destruction...so many screams of agony, squeals of fear, whimpers for mercy. They had all fallen like dulcet musical notes upon his ears...burning within him, strengthening him, building up to a crescendo which would soon engulf the world. And with the snow leopard's feral bursting of his chains, he had been unloosed for another rampage upon the Valley of Peace.

 

He had failed, something which had not been foreseen—Oogway had been even cleverer than he'd imagined, thinking several steps ahead and preparing the way so that, even after his demise, the Valley would still be protected by the one he had chosen to act in his stead...the accursed Dragon Warrior. Against that sort of cosmic ability and inner wisdom, even the master of the thousand scrolls had not stood a chance. But that did not matter. Only a minor setback.

 

For the corrupted, amoral, cruelly twisted feline had not spent two decades incarcerated here only to twiddle his thumbs, so to speak. One such as he...so consumed with thoughts of madness, despair, grief, and resentment...could not help but leave a mark on his environment. The darkness which had grown within him had its vile mirror all around him...a _chi_ as vast and seemingly endless as Tai Lung's, bolstered by such strong emotions, centered in a heart and willpower as unyielding and adamantine as the mountains around them—well, it would have been quite impossible for this not to imprint Chorh-Gom with his essence.

 

 

Twenty years of aggression, hatred, and insane lust for murder...it had saturated every stone, every scrap of iron, every fetid wind moaning through the abyss. And it was now his to command...to shape...to control.

 

Slowly, sinuously, but with ever increasing confidence and determination, he rose from the pit where he had dwelt for a score of years...listening, siphoning, _feeding_... He sent tendrils of dark, churning mist across the pinnacle where Tai Lung had knelt, up the walls of the abyss, creeping—appropriately enough—on silent cat-feet up torches and stanchions, stairwells and tunnels, absorbing from every crevice and boulder, every surface and corpse, the echoes of what wardens and prisoner alike had felt, thought, and believed.

 

Gluttony. Sloth. Fear. Wrath. Greed. Oh, and pride. Pride most of all. It was like oxygen to him, a clinging miasma which filled him with life, satisfaction, and above all...ecstasy. He glutted himself on it, became bloated with it, until he felt he could hold not a drop more. And with it he felt more power than he had in nearly a century.

_Yes. Yes. What a delightful bouquet it has. I could feast on this for a thousand years, and yet never grow sated. And this is but a foretaste of what I can have at my disposal, once all of China falls under my thrall. This power is indescribable. I must have more...I will have more._

 

Gradually, he began to pick his way through the charnel house, not only lapping up with exquisite delight every last trace of negative thought, emotion, and energy which a place of such horror, torture, and suffering had to offer...but seeking the one, he who would be his vessel to the world above, who would finally bring his dominion into reality. If none survived here, he would range farther afield.

 

He would not rest, had no need of it with the veritable banquet he had just consumed…and so he knew that, with persistence and skill, he would find the key. And once that had been accomplished...

 

Tai Lung had been his, once. He would have him again. The snow leopard's _chi_ belonged to him, as no other's in many a dynasty had or ever would again. And it would bring him victory. The fool still lived, and so had a second chance to give himself to imbalance and chaos.

 

He would serve him...or die, and serve him still. That was the way of things, and there was nothing and no one that could possibly intervene. If they tried...his servants would see to them.

 

He chuckled softly to himself—a sound as eerie and hair-raising for being utterly devoid of mirth and vitality...as if it came from the throat of one already dead who had been kept sustained in a mocking semblance of life...as it was for emanating from a place where there should have been no such sounds to hear.

 

And then he leaped upwards, and his darkness swallowed torches, moonlight upon the rocks, and Chorh-Gom itself...as he hurtled out into the night.


	10. Lessons from a Master

  
 

Dawn light shone in bright rectangles through the rice-paper doors, as well as the broad windows facing across the mountaintop toward the east, spilling onto the old, creaky floorboards of the bunkhouse until the wood became quite warm underpaw. In spite of himself, in spite of the tremendous hurdles and obstacles which lay in his way and the very real fear that without the Dragon Scroll he would amount to nothing at all, Tai Lung could not help but stand straight, proud, and true as he waited for Shifu to appear and begin his new training. He had never been a morning person, never would be, but something about this morning seemed full of hope and new promise.

 

He'd remember those thoughts much later, and between smacking his forehead hard and laughing mockingly at himself would wonder exactly how much sugar the panda had put in his bean bun dough...and how he possibly could have kept from gagging on it.

 

For now, however, he remained blissfully ignorant of the terrible fate in store for him, instead trying very hard (and failing) to keep the rather smug grin from his face—for he knew no matter what lessons and exercises the red panda threw at him, he would master and conquer them all, as he had everything housed in the thousand scrolls.

 

Unsurprisingly, the Dragon Warrior and the Furious Five (who had also gathered in the hallway, regular as clockwork to keep to the temple's rigid and infamous schedule) seemed rather puzzled if not outright disgusted by his demeanor—he could see Tigress visibly roll her eyes and Monkey glowering, while Viper exchanged a confused look with Mantis and Po elbowed Crane with a knowing wink (while the bird began to very slowly edge away).

 

But he couldn't help it...his heart felt so light, finally relieved of the burden it had borne for so long, and though his confidence reminded him—like an icicle buried deep in his chest—of how he'd felt the day he was supposed to be granted the Dragon Scroll, the feline somehow knew that everything was going to change. This day was the start of...something new.

 

Of course, just how much of his ebullient feelings were due to having spent his first night free of imprisonment since being brought back to the Jade Palace was something he refused to admit aloud. Specifically, he didn't know which was more heartwarming—the surprise of Po's stunning 'welcome home' feast (won ton soup, egg rolls, shredded bamboo, mushroom chow mein in garlic sauce, and—the snow leopard's absolute favorite, which Shifu must have told the panda—teriyaki salmon with asparagus and black beans); or being allowed to sleep in his old dormitory room after twenty years away.

 

Not that he particularly enjoyed layers of dust over everything making him sneeze uncontrollably, or that the room itself was that remarkable—his extreme sense of decorum and discipline had kept it even more austere and unadorned in decoration than the rooms of the Five. But there was something about it all the same. Even though he knew the other kung fu masters, especially Tigress, would likely never accept him, Shifu had allowed him to resume his old place. And he knew Po, against all odds, would always feel he belonged here and do his best to make the snow leopard feel at ease. It all brought a tightness to his chest he hadn't felt in...how long?

_If you have to ask yourself that question, it's been far too long_.

 

His thoughts were interrupted as the tiny form of Shifu stepped into his customary place at the end of the hall, and each of the Five—even the panda, too—snapped to attention. Instinctively, so did Tai Lung.

 

"Good morning, students," Shifu said, emphasizing the last word blatantly as he gazed at the snow leopard.

 

Despite this, Tai Lung recited with the others: "Good morning, Master." His heart beat a little faster.

 

After silently contemplating each of them for some time, an inspection which the snow leopard couldn't help noticing all of them passed except Po—for the impatient bear was soon wriggling and bouncing from one foot to the other as if he were about to thrust a paw up and ask permission to go relieve himself—Shifu at last said, "Tigress...you and your fellow masters have your...instructions. See that they are followed to the letter, and I will join you shortly. Dragon Warrior, your place will be in the kitchen today—there will be a great deal of food to prepare, as you well know."

 

Po seemed to deflate for a moment, ready to protest at not getting to continue honing his 'awesome' kung fu skills, but then he perked up at the prospect of more cooking...while Tai Lung listened to all this with growing confusion.

 

Then Shifu turned at last to look right into the snow leopard's golden eyes. "This morning I will be devoting my full attention to Tai Lung, for his first lesson."

 

The spotted cat didn't know how to respond to this. Special attention, or remedial work? The devotion of a father, or the intense scrutiny of a relentless teacher? It could be any or all of these. But he had promised he would try...Oogway, of all people, had given him the faith to believe, at least for a little while...and while he could not be certain, something in Shifu's gaze told him that whatever the red panda had in mind, it was meant to help, not to harm.

 

He'd remember that thought later too.

 

Tai Lung waited, patiently and quietly, no matter how on tenterhooks he was inside, until each of the Furious Five and Po had filed (or in the latter's case, bounced) out of the dormitory. Then at last he glanced at Shifu expectantly.

 

"Well. Here we are then." His master paused, then said significantly, "Are you ready?"

 

The snow leopard couldn't keep from beaming. "You know better than to ask me that, Shifu. I was _born_ ready." What would he teach him, he wondered? Were there some lessons he had somehow missed in the thousand scrolls? Lessons he had not fully mastered? Or could new moves, or even whole new kung fu styles, have been invented and set to parchment in the last twenty years which he was not aware of?

 

If so, he would learn them too! There was nothing he could not do, if he but set his mind to it. Perhaps there were something even more awe-inspiring and powerful than the Leopard Claw, or the Wuxi Finger Hold. Something which might impress Tigress?

 

Shifu, meanwhile, was eyeing him with faint amusement, and a certain mischievous glee that he didn't like at all; whenever he'd seen such a look in the past, it was a signal that his old master was about to yank the rug out from under him. "Hmm. I'll remember you said that. Well then—"

 

He couldn't hold it back anymore. "Where are we going to start, Master? Striding bare-pawed across hot coals? Backwards hand walking down the palace steps—with weights tied to my ankles? Balancing on a sword point? The Quivering Palm? The Leap of the Clouds? Anything you ask, just name it and I'll do it."

 

Although none of the feats he had just referred to had ever been required of him, he could say with only slight exaggeration that with Shifu's legendary discipline and unrelenting challenges, they might as well have been. And if it came down to it, he _knew_ every single thing he'd said was achievable.

 

Not waiting for an answer, he rushed on. "Or I could run the gauntlet in the kwoon again, I'm sure I missed something before. Believe me, it won't take more than a few minutes!" He posed theatrically, showing off the massive bulges of his biceps and shoulders until his spots danced and jumped—quite proud of the fact that his muscles were as hardened, knotted, and sculpted as they'd been when he was sixteen.

 

(In the only benefit he could ascribe to his time at Chorh-Gom, Oogway's restraining device had had the perhaps inadvertent effect of locking his metabolism along with his _chi_ , so that his body neither deteriorated nor atrophied despite his lack of exercise. If anything, it had actually concentrated his strength.)

 

"Tai Lung!" Shifu did not yell or shout, but the authority in his voice was unquestionable. At once embarrassed and fumbling for his dignity, the snow leopard swiftly dropped his flexed arm and instead grasped his wrist behind his back. After he thought he looked sufficiently contrite, he dared to glance back. The red panda seemed uncertain whether to laugh or shake his head ruefully.

 

"Forgive me, Master. It's just, you promised me you would teach me what I never learned, what I had been missing. You promised you would help me be a great hero and warrior after all." For the first time since he'd accepted Shifu's offer, a growl crept back into his voice, as behind his back his knuckles began to crack. "I'm holding you to that, old man..." _No. Steady. Steady._

 

"Peace, Tai Lung. Patience. I know that will be difficult for you…but I said I would train you, and so I shall." Shifu reached behind him as well, fumbling for something beneath the hem of his robes. "Your first lesson will be in weaponry."

 

Despite everything, Tai Lung couldn't keep the disappointment from his face. He had been trained in weapons combat already—more, he suspected, than any of the Five knew, at least individually. But…perhaps there was something he wasn't thinking of. A new technique, a different combination of weapons…and if he was to start his life over, aim it toward a new goal, he might well need to begin with the basics.

 

Recovering gamely enough, he said, "All right then. What shall it be? The tonfa? The butterfly sword? Battle axe? Or perhaps the _ji_...you may have forgotten how good I was with halberds and lances." Again he found himself grinning, this time slyly.

 

Shifu's large eyes regarded him solemnly as if considering and rejecting each of his choices for reasons he couldn't fathom. Then he gave a tiny smile, even as his hand finally seemed to clasp around something behind his back. "The weapon in which you are about to be trained is not like any other you have ever wielded, Tai Lung. With this in your hand, you can create as well as destroy.

 

"A man who carries this can bring together towns and families in long-lasting peace, end feuds, drive home any point he wishes to make against his adversary. As long as you have this, you can spare the weak and the infirm, shelter your charges, and ensure the continued progress of civilization. Without it, you will be exposed utterly to the elements, and all you do shall be as a house upon the sand."

 

The longer he listened, the more awed...and consternated...the snow leopard became. What weapon could do all of that? Yet, if it existed—he had to master it. It sounded like the weapon of a truly incredible warrior. With such a tool in his hands, he could carve out a proper name for himself...he could surely earn his redemption then.

 

Yet in the back of his mind, warning alarms were starting to go off. Shifu was _never_ this philosophical. What was he _really_ up to?

 

"What is it?" he finally ventured at last.

 

For answer, Shifu promptly whipped his hand from behind his back to produce—a hammer.

 

Tai Lung stared, as every single thought and surmise came to a screeching halt in his head. " _WHAT_?"

 

The panda blinked with exaggerated care, seemingly unperturbed. "Is something wrong, my student?"

 

After working his jaw soundlessly, the snow leopard stammered, "Surely you're joking!"

 

Shifu smiled faintly. "Now really, since when have I _ever_ joked?"

 

He had him there. "B-but...I don't understand." There was far too much of a whining complaint in his voice for his liking. "What are you playing at, Shifu? No matter how you look at it, _that_ is not a weapon. Certainly not for a kung fu warrior, anyway. Why are you wasting my time with this nonsense?" In the back of his mind, he wondered if Shifu had sent the Five and Po away expressly so there would be no witnesses, because he had anticipated this argument—but the rest of him was mortally offended.

 

For the first time since their battle, Shifu actually looked deeply, furiously angry. "It is _not_ nonsense. Everything I said to you was true—and it is something you desperately need. All you have ever done is learned to hurt, to maim, to break and batter and tear down. It is high time you learn to undo the damage you have wrought.

 

"When Po used the Wuxi Finger Hold, it restored most of the destruction you caused in the village...and in your soul. But not all. Like you, it needs to be rebuilt. And you will start here, with the Jade Palace that was once your home, and shall be again."

 

Tai Lung could not believe his ears. There was a twisted logic to it, of course...and it was true that working to literally repair everything he had ruined during the fights with Po and Shifu would go far toward convincing the Valley that he had changed and wished to make amends. But... Stalking forward, he clenched his fists before stabbing a finger at the hammer.

 

"You are as _mad_ as Oogway if you think I'm going to—that is menial labor, peasants' work!" He felt his blood boiling, and his whole body trembled with his barely restrained rage. His pride needed to be reined in, yes, but this... "I _refuse_ to—"

 

Shifu glared at him. Cowed, he immediately swallowed what he had been about to say…but he couldn't halt the cresting of despair within him. This was Shifu's great plan? To degrade him, mock him, humiliate him even more than he had been before? How could he...he'd had such high hopes...he should have known better...

 

Slowly, the red panda seemed to relent, sympathy and understanding appearing in his blue eyes. "You gave your word, Tai Lung. You said you would obey me, and follow my instructions in whatever I taught you."

 

He hadn't promised those exact words, but leave it to Shifu to whip out a fine print he hadn't even contemplated. "I've changed my mind."

 

Even as he said it, of course, he knew his master would not allow it...and secretly, neither would he. He had come too far to give up now just because an unexpected task had been set before him...no matter how personally distasteful it was.

 

Shifu balled his fist on one hip. "There are no take-backs in the Jade Palace."

 

Cringing a little before his determined gaze, he tried again, a little more feeble. "You...you wouldn't make me do this, Shifu. Even you wouldn't stoop this low."

 

"There is nothing wrong with honest work, work that you do by the sweat of your own brow." He paused, then his lips twitched. "And you can hardly say you don't have the strength for it."

_Playing to my vanity? You should be ashamed_. Especially since it was working, as almost against his will, his stubborn streak—as wide as the Great Wall was long—insisted that he was indeed capable of anything, including rebuilding the whole damned town by himself if he had to.

 

"I...are you _sure_ there's no other way…?"

 

"I promise you...if you can master this weapon, and every other responsibility that comes with it, you will learn what Po already knows, what enabled him to defeat you, and find a new path in life." The red panda smiled fiendishly. "And at that point, I will teach you secrets of kung fu that are still beyond you. Trust me—they're worth waiting for."

 

Hearing that, his resistance crumbled. For several more moments the tableau remained frozen, as each of them stared at each other, their equally indomitable wills set against each other. Then slowly, fighting it every step of the way, he reached out, wrapped his paw around the handle...and snatched the hammer away.

 

"Fine...Master." _Damn you, Shifu. If any of the Five let out even a peep of laughter, so help me..._

                                                                       

* * *

 

But surprisingly, none of them did. Tigress looked entirely too satisfied with herself, and Mantis did smirk behind his pincers, but otherwise the Five only acknowledged his presence with a nod, then went back to what they were doing—which was awaiting the arrival of various craftsmen and supplies from the village. Apparently Shifu had been preparing for this day for quite some time, most likely while the snow leopard was still recovering in his cell. Now that the word had been given, all those who would be needed—stone carvers, blacksmiths, quarrymen, carpenters, and more—had gathered to bring the materials to effect repairs.

 

And while Po had made lunches for everyone and planned to keep ginseng tea warm on the fireplace all day, and Tigress, Mantis, and Viper aided the villagers in carrying barrows of bricks, stones, and tiles up the stairs, it was left to Tai Lung to join Crane and Monkey in the 'easiest' task—patching the holes which had been smashed through the Jade Palace roof.

 

Off to the side of the massive crater in the temple porch, where he had ripped up an enormous chunk of the hillside to hurtle at Shifu only a week and a half ago, the ex-convict did his level best to studiously ignore his fellow laborers as well as the collection of supplies they would be using in their task—planks of freshly cut and cured wood, sheet-thin slabs of crimson slate mined from the nearby mountains, hundreds of dowels for securing tiles in place, and fragile jade for use in retouching damaged decorations. Each of them, it seemed, was also to carry a leather satchel for lugging about their equipment, as Crane and Monkey already wore theirs.

 

While the squeaking of wheels echoed behind him, from the barrows which stonemasons were using to dump and smooth out crushed rock for filling in the crater, the avian kung fu master looked at him somewhat warily, rustling and interweaving his wing feathers nervously. "So...uh...were you, perhaps, needing a little...assistance? I could, er, carry you up, if you don't mind, that is..."

 

Tai Lung grunted contemptuously; the last thing he wanted was to appear helpless and dependent on others. "No, I don't think that will be necessary."

 

Now it was Monkey's turn to try...and he was much less solicitous, more harsh. "If you can't keep up, we're not going to wait for you, you know. Maybe you need me to hold your paw, while I pull you up there?"

 

This time, the snow leopard swiveled his head to impale the primate with the coldest, most hateful glare he could muster, enough that even the usually unflappable Crane took a long step back out of the line of fire. The langur, more was the pity, remained as steady as the mountain. " _Thank_ you for the offer, Master Monkey. But I think you're forgetting we felines have a natural agility and knack for climbing." _Better even than yours, I daresay_. "Just stand back."

 

Uncrossing his arms and cracking his neck about—an ostentatious display, he knew, but the joints actually did need loosening—he jerked his satchel up on to his shoulder and then gazed up at the façade of the Jade Palace. Though it had been years since he stood before it like this, and during his youth he had to admit he'd never really studied its architectural features, particularly with the intent to mount them, it didn't take him long to see a course upwards. Stepping back until he stood near the edge of the porch, he dropped down to all fours for greater speed and traction, then instantly scrambled forward.

 

In seconds he had crossed the intervening space and, with a slight grunt of effort, hurled himself skyward. Such was the power contained in his powerfully developed quadriceps that he cleared half the height of the temple pillars in the first leap, almost seeming to defy gravity as he hung in mid-air high above the pavement stones.

 

Then, as he slowly began to sink downward, Tai Lung drew his legs up like a coiled spring, only to thrust them out at full extension—twisting sideways in the same motion, so that his feet struck the nearest column and sent him hurtling the opposite direction, where he repeated the action against the neighboring column. Back and forth, from one crimson, tree-trunk pillar to the other, catching onto the coiling golden dragons with his unsheathed claws whenever he needed purchase, he ascended higher and higher toward his goal.

 

At last, when the sweeping curvature of the lowest roof tier hung only a few yards above his head, the snow leopard gathered the energy into his haunches one last time and sprang with all the force of the skillful predator he truly was. At the height of his arc, he caught hold of a wooden _dougong_ supporting the eaves, then inverted himself, flipping backwards—and up.

 

With barely a scrape of the tiles as his weight settled atop them, Tai Lung landed adroitly on the roof, his satchel still in place without any of its contents having fallen out. _Damn, I'm good._

 

He turned to nonchalantly call out to his companions—only to find Monkey and Crane already there. The latter merely blinked at him patiently, while the former smirked openly. "What took you so long?" the simian taunted. "Bet you were showing off again."

 

The snow leopard _so_ longed to wrap his paws around that nonexistent neck and throttle him—if for no other reason than he knew Monkey was right. _Stupid, nimble little ape with that damn prehensile tail!_ With the golden langur around, and a kung fu master who could actually fly in the form of Crane, there was no chance he could get away with slacking off...and little more that he'd succeed in impressing, or outclassing, anybody.

 

Forcing the knotted ball of his temper back down again, he snarled softly and turned abruptly away, toward the second and third inclines of the roof. "Whatever. Let's just get on with this."

 

Since the rooftops from there up to the peak of the gable were a relatively smooth, gradual slope, it didn't take them long at all to reach the top, where the battling father and son had broken through twice in their attempts to batter each other senseless. By the time they did so, the sun was already almost at its zenith overhead, and that coupled with the mostly cloud-free summer's day allowed for a rather spectacular view of the Valley extending out for miles around the mountaintop.

 

Choosing not to look directly down the vertigo-inducing drop of the stairway, Tai Lung instead gazed outward across the forested hills and peaks, marveling anew at the bold, rugged grandeur of the bordering mountains, the shimmering prisms of the ever-present mist, and the vibrant colors picked out by the blazing sunlight. His sharp eyesight could see the milling citizens in the village far below, looking like ants at this distance, as well as the bell enshrined on the opposing promontory and the occasional bird winging its way southward...and even, if he squinted, the glint of water and the flash of green that marked the heights of far-off Wu Dan Mountain and its Pool of Sacred Tears.

 

But no matter how stunning the backdrop, he wasn't here to gawk at the scenery. He had a job to do, and however much it infuriated and demeaned him, he would not allow the Furious Five to mock him for failing to obey Shifu to the letter...nor do anything to disappoint the panda, or prove Tigress right about him. He couldn't risk his freedom, or his chance of a future. And if he was going to do this, he would still do it right and properly. He refused to do a half-assed job at anything. Such a thing would be truly beneath him.

 

He wheeled about to face the other kung fu masters, his feet making a soft scraping sound as they shifted some of the slate tiles. "So, exactly how are we to do this, eh? Take a plank or two and hammer them down over the holes? Hardly seems worth all three of us working up here then."

 

Monkey looked at him as if he'd just insulted the Emperor's name. "Okay, maybe all you know is kung fu, cat, but for an answer like that, I should beat you 'round the mountain a few times." Before Tai Lung could sneer at him and voice his snide thought ( _"You and what army, you lice-infested baboon?"_ ), Monkey continued.

 

"If we did what you said, that roof would be ruined. You can't just slap the wood over a hole and hope it just fixes everything. It wouldn't be flat no more, and all the tiles would slide right off! And the water, it would leak through, rot the wood. No, you gotta very carefully take off every single tile, replace the whole plank backing underneath, then put 'em all back again. May take a lot longer, but when you're through, you got a real strong roof that'll stand the test of time."

 

The primate nodded firmly in vindication, fists on hips...and then paused, staring at them quizzically. For not only was Tai Lung fairly gaping at Monkey, even Crane looked startled and puzzled by his sudden and unexpected outpouring of knowledge. "What's the matter? Do I got something stuck in my teeth?"

 

Tai Lung snorted, then cocked his head to the side. "Can't speak for the birdbrain here, but I was never under the impression Shifu trained the Five in anything that didn't have 'greatest fighter in China' written all over it."

 

Crane narrowed his eyes. "Well, that shows what you know." He shifted his gaze to his fellow master. "But he does have a point...since when do you know anything about roofing, Monkey?"

 

"I don't," the golden simian replied with a touch of aspersion. "But my brother does. He was a carpenter, you know."

 

For a moment the bird rather looked as if he wanted to say he did not, in fact, know and that this was actually the first time he'd ever heard such a thing. But the annoyed look Monkey gave him—basically implying that he would have known, if he'd ever bothered to ask—silenced Crane. Instead, he tipped his hat and performed a sweeping, fluid bow that, though it could have been interpreted as mocking, actually seemed quite sincere. "In that case, I guess you'll be leading us in the repair work."

 

Hearing that, Tai Lung could only groan anew.

 

But he had to admit, several minutes later as he was grimly but with extreme care removing the slate tiles from the roof for careful piling off to one side, that Monkey did seem to know what he was doing. Once he was convinced the snow leopard wasn't going to haphazardly toss the slate about (and in the process, smash it to bits), he left Tai Lung mostly to his own devices, instead working with Crane at the edge of the roof to start loosening the plank they would have to replace—and considering Monkey did so by literally hanging by his tail from one of the dragon carvings, so he could get at the dowels from underneath, he was in fact eminently suited to the task.

 

For his part, as he traveled back and forth between the wooden tray where he had been told to deposit the tiles for sorting and inspection, and the holes that were the cause of all this labor in the first place, Tai Lung reflected ruefully upon his activities. On the one paw, it was lucky that the two holes happened to be on the same plank, or else there would be many more tiles to remove and a great deal more work in laying out the new wood upon the rafters. On the other paw...it wasn't lost on him that none of this would even be necessary if he hadn't so savagely and thoughtlessly attacked Shifu in the first place.

 

Pausing above one of the holes, he stared down toward the marble flooring of the Hall of Warriors many yards below. Unperturbed by the height, he only fixed his gaze on the shimmering waters of the Moon Pool, which even from his vantage point he could see still bore the image of the golden dragon's head which had, for as long as he could remember, held the Dragon Scroll.

 

When he'd first seen it as a cub, it had transfixed him with awe—and terror. Later, once he had grown enough to learn the full story, it had become a true wonder for him, something he would gaze at for hours on end while he sat beside the pool, forever pondering what secrets could lie within and what it would be like to wield them. And later still, it had become a study in contrasts...an old friend and reassuring companion as he moved farther down his checklist, closer to mastering all one thousand scrolls, but also a simple symbol of his destiny and a challenge to be overcome.

 

If only he had known the truth. If he had only realized everything he viewed as only a means to an end was in fact the true goal. That all the techniques and moves he had mastered already made him a great warrior...and the powers he had unleashed within himself were all he would ever need to triumph and make a name for himself. That if he'd only believed in himself, he would have had everything he needed to be more than an orphan without ancestors and honor, more than a mere student taken in out of compassion because apparently, no one else had wanted him.

 

If only he hadn't listened to Shifu.

 

"Hey, lazybones!" Monkey heckled from behind him. "Get a move on, we don't have time for you to groom yourself. Do you think these boards are gonna hammer themselves? Or were you taking a catnap? Heh-heh."

_Oh, like I haven't heard that one a million times before. How brilliantly original!_

 

"Not at all," he drawled. "I was just...thinking."

 

Now it was Monkey who snorted, as if the idea of Tai Lung thinking was manifestly impossible. But Crane eyed him from beneath that ridiculous straw hat of his with what he swore was genuine curiosity. "Oh? What about?"

 

The feline paused, mouth hanging open a few seconds, then shut it abruptly. He couldn't believe it, but he'd been on the verge of spilling his guts to the bird. As if they could possibly understand, or care if they did! Even if each of the Five had secretly hoped, or at least vaguely believed, that one day they might be chosen as the Dragon Warrior, none of them had thought about it, fought for it, or dreamed about it as long as he had.

 

None of them, so far as he knew, had come to the Jade Palace as younglings to be trained, let alone been found left on its doorstep with nowhere else to go. They'd all had lives prior to coming here, families, loved ones who cared for them. He hadn't...and the way he'd been abandoned, perhaps he never had. They all had names for themselves, came from distinguished lineages or even other kung fu academies. How could they possibly understand what he was going through?

 

And they had never known Shifu's love—as Tigress had made so painfully and regretfully clear—only to have it seemingly withheld along with the scroll.

 

Sighing, he cast about for and discarded a number of options before at last, in a fit of desperation, he said, "What was I thinking about? Er...noodles."

 

Both Monkey and Crane stopped what they were doing—hauling one of the boards in place and replacing some of the inset jade, respectively—to stare at him dumbfounded.

 

"What?" Tai Lung replied, lamely. "I'm starving." _I really need to find someone else to stand guard over me...the panda's starting to rub off a tad too much._

 

When the other masters remained frozen where they were, still staring at him, he growled until they flinched into motion again. "Never mind," he muttered. "If you must know, I was thinking about my fight with Master Shifu." Which, now that he actually was thinking about it, wasn't exactly a lie. The last thing they needed to hear was that Tai Lung was still thinking about the Dragon Scroll...and it wasn't as if contemplating the results of his combat didn't keep it forefront in his mind.

 

Sourly wondering if that was another reason the red panda had assigned him this task in the first place, he continued. "I was thinking...that in the end, it wasn't even worth it."

 

"Ah. I see." Crane nodded sagely. "Because you hurt your own father, and almost killed him, and it was all for nothing?"

 

Inwardly, Tai Lung winced, as actually he'd been thinking that the battle had made more work for him in the end, now that he had to clean up after it. _That, too_. "Um...yes."

 

For a moment Monkey and Crane exchanged a knowing and, on the part of the primate, skeptical look. Then the bird spoke up again. "Oh. Well, you know what they say: 'before enlightenment, pour water; after enlightenment, pour water.'"

 

Now it was the snow leopard's turn to glance in confusion at Monkey. Not only did the saying make no sense, but neither of them had ever heard Crane be so insightful. Seeing how they were looking at him, the bird shrugged uncomfortably. "Sorry...not one of mine. Master Oogway said that, once. Don't ask me what it means."

_That explains a great deal_. Shaking his head, Tai Lung nerved himself and plucked from his belt the hammer which Shifu had given him. "All right, I won't. Instead I suppose I should start getting the hang of this, shouldn't I?"

 

The rest of the day passed mostly uneventfully, save for a few hiccups and false starts. After several hours, the snow leopard succeeded in piling all the slates in the tray without chipping or breaking a single one, a feat which made him obscurely proud. Of course, those which had been smashed through would have to be replaced, and some of them were old and fragile enough they had to be discarded anyway.

 

This was made clear to him in a seemingly ridiculous manner, when Monkey had quite casually lifted a slate to his ear and held it there, balanced on his fingers, while he knocked on it with the knuckles of his other hand. This, he explained to the befuddled Tai Lung, was how you knew if a particular tile was worth salvaging for the new roofing—a good piece of slate gave off a clear, solid sound, while a deteriorating one only made a dull thud.

 

It took a little while for the snow leopard to listen and detect the difference, but thanks to his keen feline hearing he soon proved a natural at it...to the point that even Monkey had to reluctantly admit his expertise.

 

Of course, he was hardly good at everything involved in the roofing procedure. There were more than a few awkward moments when it came to laying the long plank of teak atop the temple gable. Not so much in removing the old batten he had smashed through—all that took, once the dowels were loosened, was securing the grip of both paws under the eaves and with an almighty heave of his broad shoulders, ripping it out of its moorings.

 

The awkwardness came afterward, when it was time to lay the new plank. Crane had easily flown the wooden tray up to the heights of the Jade Palace, and he had been able to carry the rest of the paralyzed Five back to the Valley of Peace all by himself—and neither Tigress nor Monkey were exactly lightweight—so there was no question the avian was quite strong.

 

The plank, however, being long and top-heavy, required all three of them to maneuver into position: Monkey, again suspended by his tail, holding onto each of Tai Lung's ankles while he swung down from the curving rooftop, catching hold of the upper end of the plank and hauling it up as Crane, wings flapping frantically, held the other end with his taloned feet. By the time that task was accomplished, all three of them were sweaty and sported any number of muscle aches...but there was still more to do.

 

Luckily they had a brief respite when they broke for lunch—and though Tai Lung was still loathe to admit it aloud, he was becoming fonder and more appreciative of Po's cooking with each meal the panda offered him. Today it was shrimp dumplings, fried oysters, and steamed rice with mixed vegetables (cabbage, snow peas, and water chestnuts, mostly), and if the scents wafting up hadn't been enough to make his mouth water, actually tasting how delicious it was clinched him as a lifelong fan.

 

Not that meals at the Jade Palace had been terrible when he was growing up, for of course a healthy diet and well-built body were important prerequisites to kung fu and inner balance in general. But beyond such considerations, Shifu had never been particularly concerned with quality over quantity, and while Oogway had never forbidden it (for it was, after all, only the way of the natural world), the consumption of meat had always been rather frowned upon. And of course the snow leopard didn't even want to think about meals at Chorh-Gom...

 

With such a filling meal, washed down by some of the Dragon Warrior's exquisite tea, Tai Lung threw himself into the next stages of the repair work with a will—perhaps too much so. For once the board was in place and the time came to begin inserting the dowels and fitting it into the _dougongs_ , the feline became perhaps a little too enthusiastic in his pounding...since his first target wasn't one of the dowels, but his own thumb.

 

Thankfully (and rather wisely, he thought), neither Monkey nor Crane commented on how he was forced to suck on the bruised digit for the next several minutes until the pain subsided. Having experienced much more terrible injuries than this in his time, Tai Lung was soon right back at it again, and once he'd cleverly discovered how _not_ to bash his own paw with every blow—viewing the dowels in his mind as nerve points, which had to be struck with exact precision to achieve the desired paralysis and not, for example, stop the heart and kill his opponent outright—he was soon falling into the rhythm of the hammer far easier than he'd ever expected.

 

Shedding his new shirt so as not to soak it with his sweat, he pounded away throughout the rest of the afternoon—affixing the ends of the board securely, then inserting the fastenings which would hold the curved tiles in place once Monkey had shown him how it was done. Soon enough, the pleasing burn of aching muscles, a sensation with which he was quite familiar, added to the heat of the day as he labored beneath the summer sun.

 

And though he still found the chore itself at least monotonous if not demeaning, it gave him a great deal of time to think—even, to his marked surprise, to find the sort of calm and centered state of mind which had previously always slipped away from him. For with his body on autopilot, his thoughts were free to wander, drift, and seek solace in whatever happened to strike him at the moment. It was...soothing, somehow, not to have any pressure upon him.

 

There was no deadline, no need to rush—the job would be finished when it was finished, with a definite endpoint in mind. Unlike with his kung fu training, where there had always been another scroll to master, another style to contemplate, another move to integrate into his repertoire—so that even once the thousand scrolls were completed he had habitually gone seeking for something more, something greater—now, he knew exactly when the task was done. It could neither be hurried, nor supplemented. Like a lotus blossom, it simply was what it was.

 

And with each dowel he drove into place, each slate he laid in its course, he directed his energies into new avenues. Some he viewed as his personal demons being smashed into a semblance of order and proper behavior. Others he saw as giving blows to all those, from Tigress on down to the lowliest villager, who had sneered at him and believed him worthless for anything except as a training dummy, or compost perhaps. And still others only reminded him of how far he still had to go, how there would always be another tier of challenges to meet, more goals to achieve—not as a warrior on his way to claiming the Dragon Scroll, but simply as a man trying to make a place for himself in the world.

 

It wasn't until the sun was sinking past the horizon, and Crane gently tapped him on one shoulder to let him know it was time to head back to the kitchen for dinner, and after that to retire for the night, that Tai Lung even became aware of his surroundings. As had often been the case for him when training in the kwoon—and even, once in a while, when studying the scrolls with Oogway—the snow leopard had completely lost track of time, become so focused on his work that he had walled away everything around him while confining himself to his narrow task. The turtle had called it 'focusing on the dewdrop'. Tai Lung had simply considered it ignoring everything, including emotions, that would distract him.

 

"Hey." The avian kung fu master rested his wing feathers on the snow leopard's arm in a vaguely comforting gesture. "You did well today. It may not be much, but...it's a start. Maybe you can do this after all."

 

Tai Lung glanced from Crane, to Monkey (who stood nearby with his arms crossed over his chest, looking extremely annoyed that he couldn't gainsay his friend's words), to the rooftop—which was now as smooth, unblemished, and perfectly fitted together as if there had never been any damage to it. Between the three of them, they had repaired it all. He looked down at the hammer in his paw with bemusement, confusion, and in the end...satisfaction.

 

Slowly, he picked up his shirt from where he'd hung it on an ornamental dragon. Silently, he slipped it into place and began hooking the fastenings. And then, softly, he spoke.

 

"Maybe I can..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As might be apparent, I did some research into Chinese architecture in particular and roofing practices in general to get the details accurate for this chapter. Learned some fascinating stuff, but I hope I didn't go overboard and bore you to tears with it. Then again if I did, you may know just how Tai Lung was feeling... Also, since it is not exactly obvious at first reading, a little on the "pour water" saying: it's a shortening/paraphrase of a well-known Zen Buddhist saying, and like many of them it's more complicated to explain than to say, but basically it refers to "The tasks and needs of life remain the same, regardless what we may know, learn, or achieve, because while what's inside us may change, what is outside won't"; i.e., life goes on, and even after finding wisdom, we still need to work. The difference is that work often seems like a forced burden until you know better; then if approached from the right mindset, it becomes a "cheerful duty". I like to interpret this more simply as: the only way to learn is by doing (or having your face shoved in it). There are no shortcuts, and the process of learning is always going to involve a certain amount of labor (like lifting heavy jugs of water), both before and after any realizations you make. Hope that helps.


	11. The Thread of Hope

  
 

When Tai Lung, Po, and the Five gathered again the next morning—this time in the Hall of Warriors since Shifu no longer made any pretense at disguising the nature of his son's training—the snow leopard was, if not eager and brimming with energy for the day's repair work, at least more accepting of and resigned to it. But when the feline had stretched the kinks from his sore muscles, flexed his arms gingerly a few times, and then declared he was ready to help haul the timbers which would be used to replace the Jade Palace's doors, the red panda disagreed.

 

While it was true the temple did need a better and more secure portal than the boards spanning the massive hole, there was another, much more crucial task which must be dealt with if the Valley of Peace were to be truly healed, or even resume normal commerce with the rest of China. The doors could wait, with the craftsmen putting the final artistic touches on them in the meantime, until the kung fu masters were available to aid in transporting them.

 

Instead, the ex-convict's lesson this day, Shifu said, would be raising a new span on the Thread of Hope.

 

Viper was watching the snow leopard's face very carefully, and with some concern, as this pronouncement was made, and she wasn't at all surprised to see resentment and anger, Tai Lung's constant twin companions, flaring inside his golden eyes. But what did startle her somewhat was a definite tinge of despair to his features.

 

To be sure, she was no more sanguine about the three-day round trip, or the rather complicated and, honestly, dangerous activity they'd be performing once they reached the gorge. But there seemed to be something else motivating the big feline that she couldn't quite put her tail tip on. Could he be wary of being left alone, without Shifu's good graces or Po's almost unconditional friendship, in the company of the five masters who had nearly beaten him almost two weeks ago? Did he have some other reason he didn't wish to leave the Valley? Or could it be he found the job itself too arduous?

 

Whatever the reason behind it, the snow leopard seemed to have realized by now that nothing he said would deter Shifu, for he was bound and determined Tai Lung would do his penance and change his ways if it killed one or both of them. Sighing despondently, he only listened glumly as the red panda outlined the procedure, stressing that more than any other lesson he had planned, this would require close teamwork between all six of them, and that in his absence, Tai Lung was to obey Tigress as if she were his Master—in fact, he should consider all of the Five his masters for the duration of the journey.

 

The serpent winced to herself, quite certain Tai Lung would not take to this arrangement at all well—and in a way, she couldn't blame him. For one who had been the greatest (and, for a time, the only) student of the Jade Palace, to suddenly find himself demoted and forced to both obey and consider his superiors five warriors, all but two of which (Mantis and Crane) were at least half his age, must be deeply discouraging. But to her shock, he did not object, or even comment upon it—instead only asking whether Po would be going with them.

 

Hiding a grin behind her coils, Viper wondered which was the real reason Tai Lung wanted the Dragon Warrior along—so he could sample more of the panda's exquisite cooking, or if he was actually starting to accept and even enjoy Po's company. When Shifu noted that Po needed to stay in the Valley to resume his kung fu training, but that he would be sending warm baskets of packed lunches for everyone, the snow leopard seemed inordinately satisfied, but she also thought she detected a little disappointment still. _That is SO sweet!_

 

Of course, she seemed to be the only one who found it so, and one of the few who wasn't upset at the prospect of spending so much time traveling and working with the ex-convict. After the roofing work of the day before, Crane had warmed up considerably to Tai Lung, and even Monkey had mellowed—a little. But overall the simian was still rather hostile, Mantis had been cold since the acupuncture session, and as for Tigress...

 

Viper shook her flowered head sadly, watching her closest friend among the Five as the striped feline turned her back and stalked in the direction of the bunkhouse—ostensibly to fetch a rucksack, but she could see the stiffness in her spine and shoulders and knew Tigress was extremely unhappy with this arrangement. Or at least, that she had a great deal of nervous tension within her at the thought of having to be around Tai Lung. Was she still that bent out of shape at losing to him? Or did this have something to do with the confrontation they'd had in his cell, which she still refused to talk about...?

 

Whatever was going on with her, however, Viper wasn't likely to pry it out of her so long as Tai Lung was within earshot. And the fact the serpent had not taken Tigress's side against the terrorizing killer made her fear her friend might never confide in her at all.

 

But, she reflected several hours later as she slithered along the last cobblestone street of the village outskirts alongside her companions, she truly couldn't help how she felt. She knew, of course, that Mantis for certain and probably Crane as well believed her choice in the matter had more to do with the rippling pectorals and well-defined abdominals the snow leopard sported. And she had to admit, with a trace of shame, one possible reason she might have lost at the Thread of Hope herself was the distraction afforded by being in such close quarters with an undeniably handsome man, one who was clearly aware of how seductive he was and took the utmost advantage of his charm and charisma. Not to mention what she'd caught sight of at the bathhouse when she was spying—er, checking up on Tai Lung...

 

Yet there was much more to her than the shallowness Mantis and Monkey usually saw in her...and she had a very good reason indeed for wanting to believe in Tai Lung that had nothing to do with his appearance.

 

Glancing up at the spotted feline as he carried on one shoulder, without a grumble of protest, the bulky burden of the new bridge rolled into a wooden coil, Viper dared to peer into his rather somber, solemn face when she was sure he wasn't looking. Though she would never act in such a reckless, murderous fashion as he had, she understood why it had hurt him so deeply, to have everything he ever believed in, his future and self-worth and above all, his father's love, stripped away from him.

 

Because these were all things she had always possessed and taken for granted. She had come from a high-class, extremely wealthy background where she had never wanted for anything, and moreover, both of her parents had doted on her extremely. Despite the fact she'd been born fangless and so seemed incapable of following in the...slither prints of her father's kung fu mastery (until they grew in later, of course), she had never been made to feel that this rendered her inferior, that she would ever be loved any less or deemed unworthy.

 

All she had ever experienced was kindness, devotion, and love...everything Tai Lung had been denied, or believed he had. He'd certainly been made to feel, perhaps inadvertently, that only if he attained the scroll and became the Dragon Warrior, or at least mastered kung fu, could he ever receive Shifu's love and approval.

 

As such, Viper was determined now that the snow leopard would not suffer these losses any longer—that she would not rest until Tai Lung had found the happiness he'd been denied and the fulfillment he craved. Though she had no reason to, she felt guilt that she'd led such a sheltered, almost charmed existence while he had been through so much anguish and torment. So in some strange way, she wanted to share her good fortune with him, to help give him a taste of what he'd been missing...what he might one day have with Shifu after all.

 

The only way to begin that process, however, was to interact with him more—and certainly not on the level of teacher and student. So as the other four masters led the way along the river's winding courses and began ascending the mountain ledges that would take them to the Thread of Hope, Viper hung back, crawling along at the snow leopard's side.

 

And even as she gathered her thoughts, trying to decide how best to approach the matter, Tai Lung (unsurprisingly) could not mistake her seemingly coincidental presence for anything other than what it was—certainly not for anything innocent or meaningless. He was, at least in some ways, an observant fellow.

 

"Something on your mind, Master Viper?" The tone of disdain he'd adopted throughout their battle at the bridge was gone, although his voice did seem...detached, she would have to say. As if his mind was preoccupied with something else. "Or are the rest of the Five starting to be a bit too much for you? Because I don't know about you, but I'm rather finding them to be a bit... _cold_."

 

Viper lidded her eyes briefly, and not only because of the rather predictable and annoying reptile pun. For she also knew he was absolutely right. And while she understood, for the most part, why her fellow kung fu masters distrusted and rejected Tai Lung—aside from what had happened the first time they'd encountered each other—she also couldn't help being disappointed in them. Crane at least was trying, but the others varied from neglectful and apathetic to downright hostile. As she'd said in the kitchen over a week ago, this sort of attitude not only hurt the snow leopard, it completely undermined his chances of changing himself for the better. Not to mention that now that he'd accepted the offer to stay at the Palace, refusing to cooperate in Tai Lung's rehabilitation constituted disobeying Master Shifu...

 

Finally, after she could no longer justify her silence and it had stretched to an extremely awkward length, she sighed and nodded. "I hate to admit it, but it's true. Still, I think if you give them enough time, and they get to know you better, things might change."

 

The feline snorted. "Yes, and the Emperor will arrive on his palanquin tomorrow to pardon me in person. And when the New Year arrives, I'll suddenly have more good luck and prosperity than I can shake a stick at. Oh, and all the pigs in the Valley will sprout wings, too."

 

Viper didn't appreciate the sarcastic, mocking tone Tai Lung used, or the lack of confidence he displayed in her friends' ultimately generous natures...but privately, she had to agree that at the moment at least, the snow leopard couldn't be blamed for feeling doubtful of his acceptance. "You don't need to be so unfair to them. They have plenty of good reason to be wary of you, you know. But they're also reasonable—" _Well, most of them_. "—so they can't stay distrustful of you forever."

 

Glancing sidelong at her over the wooden slats of the bridge, he raised an eyebrow curiously. "I get the odd impression you aren't wary of me, then. Or distrustful. May I ask why?"

 

If she'd had feet, the serpent would have tripped over them. She hadn't meant to make her feelings so obvious, her tongue having run away with her while she did her best to reassure Tai Lung that things didn't have to stay fixed and immutable. But now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, she wasn't quite sure how to explain herself.

 

"Well...it's not that I'm not still nervous around you. You did leave all of us in pretty bad shape, after all. And you do know more kung fu than all of us put together. But my mother always taught me to see the best in people—to believe that, given the chance, most of them are generally good, and will make the right choices, as long as they have good examples to follow."

 

For several minutes the snow leopard said nothing, only focused on putting one foot in front of the other as he scaled the ever-rising ledge along the cliff face, his breath coming in deep, even pants that suggested one used to strenuous exercise rather than gasping for air. Then he shifted his burden to a better position and eyed her askance.

 

"You know, I used to think people like your mother were fools. Sad, pathetic do-gooders who couldn't see the real way the world works, who'd keep mindlessly parroting their blind beliefs until reality bit them on the arse. Now...now, I don't know what to think."

 

Well, at least it was some progress anyway. Frowning, Viper said, "Every time I hear you say things like that, Tai Lung, it makes me see just how truly hurt you've been."

 

Tai Lung bristled instinctively before visibly forcing himself to calm down. But when he spoke his voice was still quite tight and brusque. "I don't want, or need, your pity." Seeming to catch himself, he forced his tone to soften. "Er...there's really no good way to answer that, though. Let's just say I've had my fair share of misfortune and leave it at that, hmm?"

 

Before she could take issue with that answer, or think of another way to approach him, he continued. "Anyway, don't think you can distract me. Because unless I missed something, you still haven't told me why you sought me out."

 

Damn. She'd hoped he might have overlooked that, so she could keep up her subtle probing...but he was far too clever for his own good. "Well...you may not believe it, but I actually wanted to apologize."

 

"For what?" The snow leopard sounded both puzzled and wary.

 

Viper crawled in an agitated wriggle, her scales rasping on the rock as she nerved herself to say it—not because she didn't truly wish to, or harbored as much distrust and resentment as the rest of the Five did, but for the simple reason she didn't know how Tai Lung would take it. The last thing she needed, when trying to convince the feline that someone cared and was willing to help him work toward some sort of peace and happiness in life, was to have his arrogance rear its ugly head again because one of the greatest kung fu warriors in China admitted wrongdoing where he was concerned. Still, she couldn't avoid it any longer, and perhaps it just might help him.

 

"Um...I'm sorry that I made you hit yourself, when we fought at the bridge," she finally said, lamely.

 

Tai Lung blinked rapidly, though she couldn't tell if his confusion was because she'd actually done him the courtesy of an apology, or because she actually thought one was necessary for such an action. Then he smirked rather cheekily and spread his free paw in an expansive, magnanimous gesture. "Quite all right, Master Viper. All's fair in love and war, you know. And anyway...I've had worse, believe you me." He winked conspiratorially.

 

She supposed he was attempting, in his own way, to reassure her he meant her no ill will, but his tone came off as rather condescending—as in, that the reason he'd had worse injuries was because they hadn't been delivered by sweet, gentle females. If there was even a hint of truth to that interpretation, he needed to be put in his place before Tigress encountered such a misogynistic attitude—she had never been one to settle for the 'traditional' role of women in Chinese society. Her taking this out on Tai Lung wouldn't help his situation at all.

 

Besides, he was being annoying.

 

Narrowing her eyes, Viper stiffened and gazed up at him just as patronizingly. "Really? Then the next time my deceptive dancing _defies_ your nimble nerve strike, remind me to bring that up again."

 

The snow leopard stared at her, dumbfounded, for several moments...swallowed imperceptibly...and then softly gasped, "That...that was _you_? You were the Protector of the Moon Festival, the one who took on the Gorilla Bandit all by yourself, and won? I...I heard about that from Vachir, while I was in prison..." All trace of jocular teasing and knowing cockiness vanished. "Forgive me, Master Viper. I meant no disrespect to a legend such as yourself. I was only saying I didn't suffer unduly, so you have no need to apologize."

 

In spite of herself the serpent felt the glow of pride in her heart. It was gratifying, seeing Tai Lung act so polite, well-mannered, and cordial. It also proved something else. _Master Shifu was right in one respect_ — _he can be trained._ Ducking her head graciously, she smiled. "No harm done. Try to be more careful though...if you say the wrong thing to the wrong person, there's no telling what might happen. Not that you couldn't fight your way out of it, I'm sure. But you shouldn't have to resort to kung fu unless it's absolutely necessary."

 

He sighed, accepting her gentle reprimand much more readily than she'd expected—perhaps she'd been too harsh in her judgment, and he really had meant nothing by it. "Every time I think I have things figured out, another pitfall opens up under me. I feel like I'm in the training hall and Master Shifu keeps adding new obstacles every time I turn around."

 

Viper paused as they reached the summit of the ledge, even though the rest of the Five were waiting for them (Tigress with extreme impatience) at the narrow wooden stilt bridge leading to the next peak over. Resting her tail tip on Tai Lung's arm, she said sympathetically, "I know exactly what you mean. I hate to say it, though, but...that's the way life is. It never lets you settle down and become complacent—it's always testing you."

 

Tai Lung nodded, even as his expression became decidedly unhappy. "I know. And I wouldn't have it any other way, really—the day I could ever do such a thing, I'd be dead...or there'd be no challenges left for me, which amounts to the same thing. That doesn't mean I have to like it."

 

"No," she agreed. "But there is one thing you're missing. You don't have to be alone in this. You have Po, and Master Shifu, to help you face them. And you have me. Because I think you have a chance, too."

 

Chuckling ruefully, the ex-convict rubbed the back of his neck. "I still don't understand...this is going to take some getting used to."

 

"Tell me about it," Viper muttered, her gaze locking on Tigress where she stood, arms crossed severely and visibly fuming. "But as Po said once, we have to start somewhere."

 

"Fair enough." Tai Lung paused too, then smirked lopsidedly. "But no matter what, there's no way in hell you're turning me into a ribbon-dancer."

 

At this, Viper began to laugh.

 

Catching up to the rest of the Five, and pointedly ignoring the nasty looks Tigress and Monkey sent in her direction, Viper continued to converse animatedly with the spotted cat as their group traveled through the mist-shrouded and eerily silent mountains. And as the day wore on, very slowly, by fitful stages and uneven, jerky jumps, Tai Lung uncertainly began to respond to her persuasion and open up about himself.

 

Small tidbits here and there at first, memories from his cubhood almost forty years ago when China was a different place: massive tracts of untamed forest which had once covered this whole region, until they were cut down to make room for the farmsteads and croplands which now spread along the mountain passes; rare early days before his training intensified, when he was allowed to go down to the village and play with the young rabbits and sheep who didn't know to fear him for his species; the first time he entered the Hall of Warriors, awed and overwhelmed by the centuries of history and art preserved there; and the excitement of the fireworks at his first New Year's celebration—complete with gorgeous dragon puppets, their antics on the Jade Palace steps viewed from his perch on Shifu's shoulder.

 

With further prompting, however, Tai Lung admitted—often with apparent pain—deeper moments from his past that resonated with him...and with the Five. Lunches with Shifu at the Pool of Sacred Tears, and his first sight of the Imperial City. The awe-inspiring spectacle, in far-flung Tengchong, of plains and mountains of fire—Oogway called them volcanoes—including one nearly constant plume of molten rock which rose almost high enough to consume the glittering gem dangling from the cliff face above it...no one knew if it were a diamond or merely rock crystal, but the formation was known as the Dragon Stealing Heaven's Tear, and figured largely in the mythology and superstitions of the area.

 

 

The appearance in the Valley of a contingent from the Anvil of Heaven, before twenty years of complacency, boredom, atrophy, and dependence on weapons and devices instead of kung fu had ruined their later generations at Chorh-Gom, turning them into a pathetic shadow of the great army they had once been centuries ago, under Master Flying Rhino. And, told with grudging but genuine wonder, the tale of how a Mongol army assaulting the Great Wall had received a visit from Master Oogway...who, with assistance from Shifu, had almost single-handedly repelled the entire ravening horde while an adolescent Tai Lung could only watch, stunned and awed. After that display of blinding speed and shimmering waves of _chi_ washing across the battlefield, never again would he consider a turtle slow, no matter the reptile's usual languorous attitude.

 

Considering how rare it had been for the Furious Five to see the Grand Master in action, every one of the masters listened raptly and intently to this last tale—even Tigress could not keep the amazement and appreciation from her face, though she quickly turned it back into its rigid, heartless mask and denied everything.

 

Understandably, by the time evening was falling and they had to stop to make camp for the night in a sheltered cave, Tai Lung had become rather withdrawn again, his eyes a mystery as they danced with so many haunting memories. So as he politely but firmly excused himself to sit on a shelf of rock near the fire, away from the others, Viper instead slithered over to Tigress's side. She intended to plumb her fellow master's thoughts on what they had heard, to see if it had made any difference at all in her cold, unyielding wall of hate and suspicion.

 

But before she could even open her mouth, the striped feline made her feelings undeniably clear. The conversation, such as it was, was short, succinct, and to the point, the words clipped and brittle.

 

"If this is about Tai Lung, Viper, I don't want to hear about it. I've been listening to him ramble on all day—as if hearing his memoirs is supposed to wipe away all the evil he's done! So forgive me if I'm not in the mood to talk about him any more."

 

"Tigress!" Viper gasped, genuinely shocked at her friend's harsh words. "How can you say that? At least _he's_ making an effort here, unlike someone else I could name. What is wrong with you? Why won't you give him a chance?"

 

Whipping her head around as she stopped stripping away the green, moist, non-flammable wood from the rest of the logs they'd gathered, Tigress skewered her with a furious glare. "Because you are my friend, Viper, I will forgive you for that breach of etiquette. But I will say this once, and once only: leave...me... _alone_."

 

She knew she shouldn't keep pushing, that the growl in Tigress's throat and the smoldering heat in her eyes were very dangerous warning signs. But she couldn't allow things to end like this—or for Tigress to think she could get away with being so, well, immature. "Is this about what happened in Tai Lung's cell that night? You never would tell us about it."

 

The tree limb in Tigress's grip snapped in two as her paw clenched uncontrollably. The fact there was uncertainty and even anguish in her eyes, as well as anger, completely floored Viper. "Yes! No. I don't know! I...I can't explain it. Not now. I don't even want to think about it."

 

A terrible thought came to Viper, and suddenly she forgot all about defending Tai Lung as instead her venom, so to speak, was directed at him. "What did he do to you? Did he hurt you, Tigress?"

 

Taken aback, Tigress recoiled a little. "No."

 

"Did he threaten you, then? Or Po, or the rest of us? Did he say something he shouldn't, or abuse you in any way?"

 

" _What_? No, no! Nothing like that." Only the real confusion and disbelief in her voice convinced Viper to back down.

 

"Then what is it? What did he say, or do?"

 

"Something unforgivable. But I _said_ , I don't want to talk about it. Please?"

 

Viper blinked. She made a statement like that, and expected her to just drop it? "No, I'm not letting this go, not until you tell me what—"

 

"Arrgghhhh!" Venting her frustration at last, Tigress surged to her feet, her claws actually unsheathed and brandished in Viper's direction. While the rest of the Five stared in shock, and even Tai Lung looked up in mild distress, the feline snarled and turned instead to swipe at the wall, her claws drawing sparks and leaving deep gouges in the stone.

 

"That's it! If you like that bastard so much, why don't you go cuddle up with him for the night? I'm going to bed..."

 

And with that she stalked away into the deepest, most shadowy corner of the cave.

 

Viper stared after her, hurt and shaken in more ways than one. She was not about to push things any farther, nor cause any deeper rift than had already formed between her and Tigress—not even for Tai Lung's sake. But for a moment she was strongly tempted to snap her tail rigid and smack the striped feline _hard_ on the rump as she passed—because she certainly deserved a paddling at the very least. _She's acting like a spoiled cub! I don't understand...I don't understand this at all..._

                                                                       

* * *

 

After they awoke the next morning, Tigress acted as if nothing whatsoever had happened—though her cold shoulder toward Tai Lung seemed to have grown as high as the snowdrifts of Tibet, she was once again friendly and solicitous toward Viper.

 

On the one coil, the serpent was relieved that their friendship had not been irrevocably severed by her refusal to take no for an answer; on the other coil, she found it rather audacious of Tigress to brush the whole matter aside and pretend it never took place, while the rest of them—especially Viper—still had to contend with the emotional fallout.

 

Still, she wasn't about to rock the boat this time, so with a fair amount of internal grumbling and distress, Viper let it drop.

 

Not only did her decision to do so encourage the rest of the Five, even the snow leopard seemed inordinately relieved that hostilities weren't renewed. Whether this was because he was afraid any bad feelings amongst the Five would be blamed (and rightly so, unfortunately) on him and so get him in trouble with Shifu, or because he'd actually escaped his selfish mindset enough to care about what his actions did to others, Viper had to smile reassuringly at Tai Lung. Even if he'd been the source of contention, he clearly hadn't done this on purpose or wished for it to happen. And whatever he had said or done in his cell (if in fact anything had really happened beyond Tigress's usual tendency to overreact), he seemed to be quite sorry for it.

 

Once their supplies were gathered together and Crane had double-checked to ensure the embers from the fire were all thoroughly doused, the six of them set off once again to the south. Without Viper slowing them down with continued conversation, they made good time, and so by midday they had reached the forested plateau which fronted the Thread of Hope, and then at last achieved the massive stone gateway that marked what had been its northern boundary.

 

Coming to a halt atop the precipice, all of them couldn't help but stare across the Devil’s Mouth at the distant peaks and the bridge which was strung between them. Though they had all seen it before, the sight never ceased to amaze Viper at least—she didn't know how the rest of the Five felt—and Tai Lung, she imagined, hadn't exactly been focused on the view when he stood here last.

 

Angling back and forth from one mountaintop to the next, the wooden span swayed visibly in the whistling air currents, but otherwise remained as rock-steady and stable as it had for the last century. Some gossips in the Valley of Peace actually claimed it was a millennium old, that it had been here even before Oogway arrived and the grateful citizens built the Jade Palace in which he would dwell, something which was manifestly impossible. But it was certainly ancient enough that at times it seemed incredible it still stayed suspended at all, let alone supported all the traffic it received.

 

Of course that might have been due to the fact that parts of it were much newer and of more modern construction—the fate it had suffered thanks to the climactic struggle between Tai Lung and the Five was not the first such accident it had met with in its long existence, and probably would not be the last; plus general upkeep and maintenance meant rotten planks and unraveling ropes were routinely replaced. All in all, the Thread of Hope was aptly named, as it provided the only lifeline to the outside world for the sheltered valley, but its ten spans could always be counted on whatever else changed in China.

 

Or rather, nine spans. For of course, the yawning chasm directly before them remained empty and uncrossed, the plateau they stood upon utterly cut off from the nearest peak by the toppling of the only link between them. The near side of the bridge had dropped completely away into the river valley when Tigress had severed the ropes and Mantis released his hold, while the far side (or what was left of it, after Tai Lung had smashed Tigress through nearly every plank) now dangled in the shadows of the opposing cliff-face, barely visible save for the rope which Crane had used to entangle the snow leopard. There was, in fact, absolutely nothing salvageable; it was a good thing the craftsmen in the village had fashioned a whole new span for them.

 

For several long moments, the kung fu masters contemplated the very visible evidence of their violent combat only a week and a half ago—and while Viper had no idea what the others were thinking, she had decidedly mixed feelings on the matter and was fairly certain some of them did, too. Except Tigress, of course, who despite giving Shifu the go-ahead on his plan seemed to have her opinion of the snow leopard set in granite.

 

After staring down into the ravine with what seemed to be genuine shock, Tai Lung at last looked up and gave the rest of them a rather helpless look. "Damn. And here I thought all we'd have to do is hoist up the remnants on this side, and have Crane fly out to tether the sections together again. Not going to be as easy as all that..."

 

To the avian's credit, he only glanced soberly and expressionlessly at Tai Lung for the unlikelihood of that prospect before ducking down beneath his hat and shaking his head. Tigress, of course, rolled her eyes and snorted contemptuously. "Of course not! And here I thought you were an observant warrior who always paid attention to his surroundings...oh, that's right—you couldn't. You were rather...tied up at the time."

 

Silence for several moments, broken only by a soft wince and mutter from Mantis: "Oooo...me- _oww_." He might have said more, if Crane hadn't deliberately clipped him with his wing.

 

An extremely resentful look crossed Tai Lung's muzzle, and for a moment his paws clenched into flexing fists. But then he shook his head and shrugged philosophically. "A fact which I cannot deny. How, pray tell, are we going to fix it, then?"

 

Monkey indicated the bird with a smirk. "What, you forget already? We got wings on our side here. Crane can fly the ropes across just fine."

 

Tai Lung looked dubious. "No offense meant to Master Crane, but wouldn't the _entire bridge_ be just a tad too weighty for him? He needed you and I to help him lift one plank onto the Jade Palace roof..."

 

"None taken," Crane said evenly. "But I wasn't going to be carrying the whole thing by myself—that's why the craftsmen made the bridge this way, already strung on its ropes and handrails and compressed together. It'll weigh down the middle, but I can handle it for a short flight."

 

Rubbing his jutting jaw thoughtfully, the dawning of understanding in his golden eyes, the snow leopard glanced at each of the other masters, as if mentally calculating all their strengths and weaknesses and adding them together to make a coherent mosaic.

 

"Let me guess...you're going to take Mantis across with you, since he's the smallest and lightest. Because he's also got the strength to pull the ropes taut and help you tie them off." He nodded in acknowledgment to the insect. "I saw what you did, holding up the entire bridge by yourself with all of us on it. Quite a feat, Master Mantis, I salute you."

 

For the first time since he'd been welcomed back to the Jade Palace, Crane smiled at Tai Lung. "Right in one." Mantis, on the other hand, just dipped his head perfunctorily, though he couldn't hide the gleam of vindication in his beady eyes.

 

Tai Lung considered the others. "Which I'm guessing leaves Monkey and Viper to tie off the ends on this side. But that leaves only one problem." He pointed out into the middle of the drifting, pearly-gray clouds spread across the mountain range and turning each of the Cliffs of the Great Awakening into a lonely island. "Just how is the bridge supposed to be extended, when _it's_ out there, and _we're_ over here?"

 

That was the same question Viper had asked the other members of the Five when they'd devised this plan...and though she didn't like the answer anymore than Tai Lung would, she knew it was really the most efficient and in fact the only way.

 

"Heh-heh." Monkey crossed his arms over his slender chest. "That's where _you_ come in."

 

It took several moments for the full import of this to sink in. When the snow leopard finally picked up on the meaning of the simian's smirk, and how both he and everyone else kept glancing between the promontory and the place, currently in the middle of empty space, where the bridge boards would be hanging once the ropes were tied off, his eyes widened and he actually took a step back. "You can't be serious!"

 

Mantis twitched his feelers, his expression flat and unmoved. "I might be wrong, but I think we can."

 

Again, Tai Lung pointed out into the gorge. "Out there. You want me to go out there?"

 

Now, at last, Tigress was smiling, the predatory look she saved for only the choicest of occasions. "That's right."

 

"Out on nothing but ropes above a thousand-foot drop?"

 

"Uh-huh." Monkey grinned too.

 

"All by myself?"

 

"That's about the size of it," Crane observed.

 

Another silence. Then: "Are you _all_ out of your _bloody_ minds?" Though the snow leopard was doing his level best to adopt his usual urbane, drawling tone, there was more than enough of a twinge of incredulity and a slight hint of panic to give away how truly on edge he was.

 

Monkey and Mantis instantly burst out laughing. Crane merely looked uncomfortable, while Tigress took on the task of 'convincing' Tai Lung—stepping forward with an impatient snarl and the rather suggestive cracking of her knuckles. "Look. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, but no matter how it plays out, you're doing this. End of discussion."

 

"No! No, I'm not! Fixing this damn bridge is one thing, but no one said anything about putting my life in danger to do it."

 

Giggling even more uncontrollably, Monkey put a hand to his forehead. "Oh, this is rich! What's the matter, Tai Lung? You scared of heights?"

 

The snow leopard snarled wrathfully, whirling about to stalk toward his accuser. "Like hell I am! I don't have a damn problem with heights—it's the sudden stop at the bottom that I take issue with." This time Crane laughed, though it seemed to be at the feline's distinction, not at him.

 

Viper, meanwhile, was tentatively testing the air with her tongue—and to her surprise, she did indeed pick up the scent of fear coming from Tai Lung. But how could that be? He'd fought them here at the Thread of Hope without a single indication he was bothered by the locale, shown no compunctions about smashing and shredding his only means of support, raced easily on all fours along nothing but ropes, and leaned against them to converse as if he stood on solid ground.

 

Unless that had all been a pose, to mislead them and distract himself...she recalled, now, that never once had she seen him look down during the battle. Or perhaps he'd been able to tune out the danger when so given over to bloodlust, adrenaline, and vengeance—but now that he was outside combat, and free of the fog with which they clouded his mind...

 

The latter seemed to be the case, as Tai Lung soon snapped, rather coldly, "Being out there in the middle of a duel, when my blood was hot, was one thing. This is entirely different! And I still don't see why it has to be me—just because Shifu, or you, say so? What will Tigress be doing, eh? Why can't she help?"

 

Before the leader of the Furious Five could answer, Viper finally intervened. Softly, gently, she explained, "No, that isn't it at all. The reason you were chosen is because you have the best balance out of all of us—I'm sorry, Monkey, but it's true!—and were such a natural out there on the bridge. We just assumed you'd be able to handle this job just as easily." Flattery never hurt, especially when it was true.

 

While Tai Lung grumbled and crossed his arms over his chest, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to be pleased or annoyed, the serpent continued. "There's also something very specific we need to get the bridge in place, and it's something only you can do." She took a deep breath, then amended her statement. "Or only the highest level of kung fu warrior can do, anyway. We've seen Master Shifu do it before...he taught you all he knows...and you did master all one thousand scrolls. So—can you redirect your _chi,_ and use it to shove the air, send out a blast of wind?"

 

Blinking, apparently not having expected this, the spotted feline looked from one warrior to the next until finally, reluctantly, he nodded. "Yes. There's a trick to it, of course...but it's really not that difficult. Anyone can do it, if properly taught." From the sound of his voice, he hated having to admit this, yet clearly at the same time he saw such a claim as his only possible escape clause, training one of the Five so they could act in his stead.

 

"Not in enough time to suit our purposes," Crane interjected. "And anyway...I don't know if any of us have enough _chi_ for that. It has to be you, and it has to be like this. A wind like that can separate the boards, blow them out along the ropes and into position faster than any other way we might try."

 

Viper, however, had been thinking rapidly, and now with a new confidence she dared to disagree. "I don't think that's quite true, though. There's one other here who I'm certain has more than enough will to make a blast like that. And she's advanced enough that Shifu has taught her how, too. Hasn't he, Tigress?"

 

The master of the Tiger style glared at her in betrayal, but Viper wasn't moved by it one bit—she was bound and determined that her friend would get over this immature display and start treating Tai Lung with decency and respect, if not trust and acceptance, whatever it took. Tigress had promised, after all, not to interfere with or work against Shifu's plan, yet right now her stubbornness and pride were doing exactly that.

_And if I have to force you two to work together to get you to snap out of this and remember what forgiveness is, so be it._

 

Monkey, meanwhile, seemed just as against the idea. "What? That's crazy talk, Viper! You wanna put Tigress and him together, alone, out there on those ropes? Are you _trying_ to get her killed?" Tai Lung growled at him, and the serpent didn't blame him—considering how he'd acted since being brought back to the Jade Palace, it was rather unfair to expect such treachery now.

 

But Mantis and Crane, however, were looking intrigued and even amused by the possibility. "No no," the insect said, holding up his pincers calmingly. "This could actually work."

 

" _What?_ "

 

The bird winced at their leader's furious exclamation, looking a little glummer, but he glanced from Viper to Tigress with a rueful smile. "Um...I hate to say it, but they have a point. You _do_ know how to do it, and in case anything goes wrong out there, it'd be better to have someone else on hand."

 

Visibly composing himself, Tai Lung bowed formally to his fellow feline, though she could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke—the conflict between his reluctance to ask for help and the undeniable fact he truly needed it must have been strong. "Master Tigress...I promise you, no harm will come to you while you're out there, at least not from me. And if the two of us work together on this, it'll be done that much faster. The sooner we're back on solid ground, the safer we'll be."

 

Faced with such cogent and well-reasoned arguments, the striped cat looked rather cornered and pinned, but with no way out (intellectually as well as physically), she had no choice. Sighing heavily, she then stood straight and skewered each of them with a fiery gaze. "Fine. If you're all so certain this is needed, I'll go out there and coax the kitten along if he freezes up. But he's going first; I'm not about to let him ogle my backside if I can help it."

 

Mantis, ever the pervert, chuckled appreciatively, while Crane covered his face with his wing and Monkey looked scandalized. The snow leopard, meanwhile, who had been on the verge of spluttering persistent defenses of his dignity, instead flushed briefly and fell silent. Which only made Viper stare wonderingly at him...and then slowly smirk.

 

True to his word, the avian kung fu master succeeded in easily flying across the gorge, all four ropes of the span clutched in his taloned feet while the insect perched on his shoulder. About five or ten minutes after they had disappeared into the mist, the trailing ropes slowly began to rise, the sweeping loops becoming brief arcs and then finally pulling taut, the compressed bridge now hanging as a solitary dark blotch marking the middle of the span. And once Crane's voice floated back to them, saying Mantis had secured his ends, Viper's adroit tail tip backed up by her muscular coils did the same with one set of ropes, while Monkey's dexterous fingers mirrored her on the other side.

 

With those tasks accomplished, there was only one job left to perform, one which neither Tigress nor Tai Lung looked upon with relish. But they could not shirk their duty...and so, nerving himself and refusing to look down, the snow leopard rolled his shoulders, adopted his typical proud, casual strut, and began inching along one of the support ropes while gripping the handrail at chest height—and belying his earlier trepidation and uncertainty, he placed one foot in front of the other with ease and balance, as if he did this sort of thing every day. Viper, having slithered up next to the nearest stone pillar of the bridge, could still scent Tai Lung's nervousness...and the fact he managed to conceal it so well behind his bravado and confidence made the serpent admire him anew.

 

Several minutes after he'd started his trek through the skies, Tigress sauntered out onto the other support, mirroring Tai Lung's hold upon the guiding handrail—an attitude most unlike her. Whether she was trying once again to prove herself better than the snow leopard, or if his presence simply brought out the worst in her, Viper couldn't tell. But she did exchange a look with Monkey...who, despite his own continued dislike for Tai Lung, seemed almost as worried for their leader as she did. As they well knew from the ex-convict's encounter with the Dragon Warrior, and from many sparring and training sessions in the kwoon, overconfidence and cockiness were a surefire way to get you into trouble...

 

Yet when it did strike, it wasn't Tigress who was the victim.

 

It happened when the pair of felines were nearly at the center, where the rolled-up boards waited to be pried and hurled apart. Tai Lung was only a couple feet away, and Tigress lagged behind him by another yard or two, when out of nowhere the wind began to whine, rushing through the mountain crevasses as it picked up speed and force. From the west, a frigid blast burst from between the nearest peaks, its progress made visible by the unexpected roiling and churning of the fog, whipping away to reveal the sheer, jagged faces of the sugarloaves, seamed and pockmarked like an oldster's lined brow.

 

More and more of the mountains were exposed as the wind came closer, its howl rising steadily in loudness and pitch until Viper could barely stand it—she could only imagine how it sounded to the felines. Below, the cracked and spiky sides of the ravine stood stark and clear, and a thousand feet beyond that, looking so small it seemed to be a slender blue ribbon winding through the forested chasm, was the river. Viper suffered a brief siege of vertigo.

 

Then the wind rose to a shriek as it finally reached the unfinished span, and the serpent snapped out of her fear as she screamed herself into the wind, hoping it reached the other side. "Mantis! Secure the lines!" As Monkey also followed her orders, Viper wrapped her coils as tightly as she could around the remaining ropes, drawing them to a perfect horizontal. "Everyone, hold on!"

 

Each of the Five did as she commanded, even Tigress—dropping down to a half-crouch as she clung to her pair of ropes with her hands as well as her feet. But Tai Lung, the farthest out and right in the middle of the gale, could not hear her. Nevertheless, he felt the stretching and bouncing of the ropes as they were drawn in place, and his sharp ears picked up the high whine and the changing in air pressure as the wind approached. He turned...stared in blank shock for a moment or two as the mist raced ahead of the maelstrom as if reaching out with clutching white fingers to seize him...and then immediately ducked low as Tigress had to grasp the ropes.

 

A moment too late. The wind washed over him, buffeting his much larger, bulkier body and making his fur ripple and billow up wildly—and then with a yowl he lost his balance, and his hold on the handrail, and flipped backwards and sideways, switching positions until he hung upside-down by all four paws from the bottom of the span's rope. A few more moments he clung desperately to his perch as the wind continued to rush over him, making him sway back and forth like a kite while his tail lashed furiously. Then, with another strangled cry, his claws tore free and, limbs flailing, he fell straight down into the fog.

 

Luckily, Viper didn't even have to call out, for the other master across the bridge had seen what was occurring, and launched into action even before Tai Lung lost his hold. Out of the clouds, a dark silhouette appeared with flapping wings, and then Crane streaked downward after the snow leopard.

 

Minutes passed, as the roaring wind finally died down and the feline vanished into the swirling mists, followed by the avian, descending deeper into the gorge until neither could be seen, only the shifting clouds...and then something moved, something large, awkward, and strangely shaped as it rose upwards out of the Devil’s Mouth toward the bridge. Viper held her breath.

 

Gasping and panting, Crane hove into view, chest burning and wings flapping vigorously as he clutched Tai Lung with both feet, gripping him so hard the talons had dug into his shoulders deeply enough to draw blood. But despite the pained expression on the snow leopard's face, he didn't complain—in fact he looked extraordinarily relieved, and an emotion Viper never expected to see there...grateful.

 

Just before the bird would have lost his hold, or plummeted back into the ravine with his burden, they reached the rope and Tai Lung leaped, latching onto it with a death-grip from all four paws. Crane landed wearily beside him, taking off his straw hat to fan himself tiredly, while the spotted feline waited until he was certain the wind had passed before finally releasing his hold and rising back to his full height.

 

Surprisingly, as Viper watched from the cliff edge, she saw Tigress looked rather worried, even a bit distraught, as she rose as well—could she have actually been concerned for Tai Lung? Afraid she was next? Or disturbed at what Shifu would say if he learned she'd allowed harm to come to his son?

 

"Th-thank you..." Tai Lung gasped at last, wincing as he rolled his shoulders again, making crimson fluid well up from the wounds. "That was...rather terrifying. I owe you one."

 

"Don't mention it," Crane replied. "Ever." But unlike when he'd said these words to Po, his tone was not flat or bitter, but genuinely humble and pleased. And with that, he slowly flew back to the other side of the bridge.

 

After another minute or so of panting and shuddering, the snow leopard cracked his neck and declared he was ready to continue—something which seemed to startle Tigress, as his recovery time was remarkable. But she certainly didn't object to getting on with things, since there was no telling when another wind might come up...and with Crane exhausted from carrying the hulking Tai Lung, he would likely not be able to effect a rescue a second time.

 

So together, the two felines proceeded the rest of the way along the ropes until they reached the bridge slats. There, each of them took up an identical pose but facing in opposite directions—the snow leopard aiming south, the tiger north. For several more long moments, there was silence, as Tigress and Tai Lung centered themselves, paws clasped before their chests and eyes closed while they drew deeply upon their _chi_ , redirecting it into the air around them. Then, in the same motion, and with a synchronized _kiai_ , both thrust forward with a two-palm strike.

 

Instantly two winds, just as powerful as the one which had toppled Tai Lung off the bridge, blew below the handrails with a thunderous clap of sound. Just as planned, the boards responded, wrenching apart and racing along the lower ropes like barges behind a supply boat, sharp reports sounding as wood pulled apart and bumped together—reminding Viper vaguely of the time she'd been in a bamboo forest during a windstorm. Banging and clattering, the spans lengthened and spread out until finally, as the twin gales reached the cliffs and funneled between the stone gateways, the last boards fell into place.

 

Slowly, with solemnity but also weariness—for it took much more energy to do what they had done than to, say, blow out a bank of candles—Tigress and Tai Lung lowered their arms and stepped back from the forward stances they'd adopted (one leg extended behind them, the other bent in front). Then, oddly, they rose and, back to back, bowed formally to what looked like nothing. After a moment, Viper realized they were honoring the wind itself—or perhaps Tai-Yi.

 

In an almost coordinated dance of smooth, supple movements, the felines darted and twisted along the Thread of Hope, bringing their feet down with regular, forceful stomps to flatten any stray boards and ensure each fitted perfectly into its neighbor. Then, finishing with one final flourish, they stopped at opposite ends of the bridge, the ex-convict turning back to cross and meet his fellow master at the northern gateway.

 

There, standing upon the same grassy plateau where he had paralyzed the Five with his nerve strike, they paused, facing each other in silence, save for the creaking boards and ropes behind them, as each sized the other up. Tai Lung quirked a brow, barely restraining a somewhat smug grin, while Tigress's lips twitched in what Viper swore was the ghost of a smile.

 

Then she crossed her arms over her chest and sniffed. "Adequate, I suppose. Let's get back to the Jade Palace, shall we?"

 

Tai Lung's face fell, the expression of pride in a job well done disappearing as if chalk erased from a slate board. Then he snarled viciously and wheeled about, glaring out across the Cliffs of the Great Awakening while his tail lashed behind him and his paws adopted a white-knuckled grip on his biceps.

 

But as Mantis and Crane appeared from the far side of the bridge, and Tigress smirked and began a jaunty pace back the way they'd come, Viper could have sworn she saw the striped feline glance back over her shoulder...eye the snow leopard's backside...and then turn away again with a definite blush to her cheeks.

 

Viper peered from Tigress to Tai Lung...noticed the look of longing mingled with frustration on the snow leopard's blocky countenance...and began thinking furiously. And as Monkey chortled annoyingly behind her, the truth finally dawned on her.

_Oh. Oh my! It can't be...he couldn't...and she **wouldn't**...but that would explain so much!_

 

Grinning from ear to ear, until she swore the ends of her mouth touched the flowers atop her head, the serpent hummed thoughtfully to herself as she slithered down the trail with the others. Already all manner of plans and speculations were forming in her head...yes, this would take careful managing. She looked at Tai Lung, so morose and dejected as he trudged along behind her he didn't even notice her expression.

 

She knew how she was going to get the snow leopard accepted by Tigress. And the best part was, just how much _fun_ she'd have doing it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now it seems Tai Lung has an ally in his conquest—or does he? And even if he does, will he take advantage of it—or even particularly enjoy her methods? You'll have to wait and see... In the meantime, I am pleased to make my very first reference to a lost place from _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ —the Dragon Stealing Heaven's Tear. Took a bit of research to find out where in China it might have been, but it looked like an awesome place. I also hope the way I described the raising of the bridge wasn't too confusing...these things often seem more clear in my head. Before anyone asks, yes what Tigress and Tai Lung did is supposed to be a direct reference to what we saw Shifu do to Oogway's candles.


	12. New Approaches

 

"Hey, you there! Yeah, I'm talking to you, _kitten_. Put your back into it! You're supposed to be so damn strong, why don't you put your muscles where your mouth is?"

 

His paws gripping convulsively on the ropes strung back over his shoulders, a growl so low and menacing it was almost subsonic rumbling under his breath in the back of his throat, Tai Lung fought with every fiber within him to hold back the volcanic anger on the verge of exploding in his heart. Staring studiously ahead before him, up the Jade Palace steps, the snow leopard only kept his eyes fixed on his goal, the terrace fronting the temple, and struggled to ignore the disdainful, nasty voice behind him.

 

It had been like this all morning, truth be told. After rising with the gong, he had eaten breakfast with the Furious Five and Po—a rather uncomfortable and awkward affair, what with the long stretches of silence, the constant glares from Tigress and Monkey across the table, and the Dragon Warrior's pitiful attempts to keep a conversation going which all ended with him staring at his plate, wringing his hands and mumbling around mouthfuls of food. Meeting them in the Hall of Warriors again, Shifu had then put all of them (save Po) to work in hauling the polished timbers and dressed stonework which would be used to replace the smashed doors and repair the damaged marble.

 

Or at least, he, Tigress, and Monkey were doing so; Crane, whose upper body strength wasn't that considerable to begin with and who was now sore from having to carry Tai Lung out of the gorge, was instead using his keen eye and talent with calligraphy to aid in laying out mosaic tiles and repainting the intricate scrollwork on the temple floor and pillars. And Mantis, intriguingly enough, was in the kitchen with Viper and the panda, aiding in brewing some sort of bracing concoction that would temporarily boost strength and stamina for the workers.

 

Tai Lung winced briefly as one of the ropes pressed hard into his shoulder, scraping across the wounds Crane's talons had made almost two days before; once they'd made it back to the Valley, Mantis had applied bandages and a healing ointment, and other than residual soreness he was recovering from the injuries nicely (he'd always been blessed with an amazing constitution), but aggravating them didn't help. That wasn't the source of his problems, however. It was the foreman of the work crew.

 

" _C'mon!_ We don't have all day, you know. And don't let that end lag, you're gonna bust the cart open! You think I'm harsh? Wait'll you got the stonemason on your case for smashing his stock..."

 

These words were accompanied by a sudden crack in the air—a sound disconcertingly like that of a whip, though it was actually produced by the foreman's snapping trunk. For he was an elephant, and unlike the mild-mannered and generous sorts usually found among that species, he seemed to have a belligerent nature and short fuse to match Tai Lung's.

 

Either that, or like so many others in the Valley, he had a particular issue with the 'heartless murderer' and was determined to make him suffer for his sins. At this point, it didn't really matter which and the snow leopard didn't really care. If this was what it took to convince everyone—including himself—that he was worthy of redemption or at least could be trusted to bring no more harm to the Valley, then he would simply grit his teeth and bear it.

 

No matter how much he hated it. No matter how dearly he would love to skin the bastard and use it to make a new pair of pants.

 

Wiping sweat from his brow as the heat of the summer sun beat down on his bare back, and wishing—not for the first time in his life—that he could shed his thick pelt when the winter snows were only a distant memory, he retightened his grip on the ropes, bunched the powerful muscles of his arms, shoulders, and legs, and once more began dragging the wheelbarrow of marble blocks up the stairway. The task wouldn't be so hard, he reflected, if he weren't already rather worn out from hauling the ungainly, square-shaped lengths of oak which would become the new doors to the palace—they hadn't had any wheels to aid him.

 

On his other side, Tigress had not, of course, shed her scarlet vest as that would be both unseemly and appalling in his presence—not that it was even needed, as the garment had plenty of breathing room and was made of a lightweight material, and she hardly seemed to be overexerting herself in any case. Nevertheless, she was making full use of her muscle tone and the strength which had so stunned and impressed him during their battle, pulling behind her a cart just as fully loaded as his own.

 

Once, he would have been deeply offended at a simple female managing to match his feats or even surpass them. And if he were much fresher and better able to focus, he would be sneaking many more sidelong glances at the play of her supple body beneath her gleaming pelt. Instead he could only admire her anew, and be glad of her assistance. Not to mention he had the feeling the foreman would be much more cruel if she were not present...

 

That notion was, in fact, about to be put to the test. Because, just as he finally succeeded in lurching the wagon the last several steps up to the flagstones of the terrace, with Tigress arriving only a heartbeat or two after him, Tai Lung heard the solid thud of broad, massive feet on the stairway, and felt more than saw the looming presence behind him just before a humongous, gnarled, leathery hand clapped on his shoulder and wrenched him around.

 

Perhaps he had gotten far too used to the diminutive heights of both Oogway and Shifu, although to be fair there were few warriors in China of the same intimidating size as Tai Lung—whether the felines of the Imperial Guard, the rhinos of the Anvil of Heaven, or the wolves of the Mongolian steppes, most of those he had encountered (whether as allies or enemies) had at most been only a few inches taller than he.

 

This pachyderm, however, stood tall enough that the snow leopard only came up to his chest, and out massed him by several hundred pounds—and while a good portion of that was fat, just as much was not. He fought the urge to step back, and refused to be intimidated into cowering. Allowing the rope harness for his cart to slip free onto the stones, he instead crossed his arms over his chest, stoic and unyielding without being overly pugnacious, and stared up into the glowering, tusked face.

 

"Yes? Was there something I could do for you, or did you just plan to glare daggers at me all day? Because I'm quite attached to my face, as it's the only one I've got, and I'd rather you didn't wear it out."

 

As soon as the sarcastic words left his mouth, he knew he'd crossed too far over the line and wished he could take them back. Granted, there were far worse things he could have said, and he could only imagine how the foreman would have reacted if he'd made reference to the old cliché by asking if the fellow were looking for peanuts. But for whatever reason, the elephant clearly hated his guts, and as had often been the case throughout his life, Tai Lung's big mouth had gotten him into trouble again.

 

"Why, you smug little smartass!" If anything, the elephant somehow seemed to swell even larger as he brought an upraised, heavily callused fist into Tai Lung's face. "I've been holding back up 'til now, out of respect for Master Shifu, but just for that, I'm gonna let you know _exactly_ what I've been thinking of you..."

 

Dread warred with fury inside of him as he waited for the inevitable attack. When it came, he was not disappointed by its fire and hatred—although he couldn't hold back a pang of despair. The elephant, whose name he'd never caught and didn't even care to know, looked ready to blast out a deafening trumpet on his trunk, and his tusks, rather dulled with age—which Tai Lung knew from experience would actually make them hurt _more_ than if they'd been properly sharpened—were brandished high.

 

"I don't know who you think you are, Mr. High-and-Mighty, but around here you don't get nothin' 'til you've earned it. You may be master of the thousand scrolls, but that don't mean diddily after the stunts you've pulled. So if you _really_ want us to believe you're gonna change your ways, then you better be well-behaved and proper. Speak when you're spoken to, follow every order—without question!—and work harder than you ever have before." The foreman smirked mirthlessly, crossing his own arms in satisfaction.

 

Tai Lung couldn't believe what he was hearing. _And what, exactly, d'you think I've been doing, you overgrown waterskin?_ Barely able to hold in his rage any longer, the snow leopard took a long step forward, glaring up into his persecutor's tiny and, in his opinion anyway, unintelligent eyes, his jaw jutting angrily.

 

"Now you listen to me, I've been nothing if not cooperative, but don't you think this is going a little too far? Respect goes both ways, and I've yet to see _any_ reason why I should grant you that little rarity. And as for who I think I am..." He drew himself up to his full height, nostrils flaring as he growled softly. "I _think_ I'm the one who defended this valley when you were knee-high to a grasshopper. I _know_ I'm the one who kept the peace and protected all the outlying communities in Hubei province years before Oogway ever made his judgment or Chorh-Gom was rebuilt, so don't try and tell me how to do my job!"

 

He knew he shouldn't be boasting, but he couldn't help it—as Po had made him realize, there was a lot more to his life and what he had done with it than his short-lived rampage (however horrific it had been), and everyone, himself included, needed to remember that.

 

Naturally, the elephant was unmoved, only snorting derisively at him and blowing a sour-noted blat from his trunk. "Yeah? So? That was then, this is now. And you're also the one who nearly destroyed the Valley, twice! There's not a soul in the village who hasn't lost a livelihood, a home, a family or a lover, thanks to you. So don't expect any compassion from us. Oh, and by the way, watch who you talk down to, I'm just two years your junior, buddy." Even as Tai Lung bristled at both the insult and his own mistake, the elephant continued. "Anyway, from what I've heard, this whole thing started because you didn't learn your place...maybe that's the lesson Shifu's tryin' to teach you, huh? Maybe you should pay better attention this time. Don't go puttin' on airs with me, kitten. To me, you're just another grunt, and slave labor'd be too good for you. Am I clear?"

 

Pure hatred surged inside his rapidly beating heart, and he wasn't at all surprised to hear his growl become uglier and more vicious than any he'd produced in years. Even Vachir, at his worst, had never been this hostile and cruel! Well...no, scratch that, he had, but those wounds were old and healed over, he had become inured to the abuse and eventually immune to it as he tuned the cocky rhino out. This was new and fresh, and coming right after he'd decided to turn his life around, to accept Shifu's offer, and had taken strides in making peace with the Five...

 

It was recalling that which held him back. He couldn't jeopardize his future again, or undo all the progress he'd made, just for the admittedly delicious enjoyment he'd get from thrashing this fellow within an inch of his life. No matter how much he deserved it.

 

Even as he privately catalogued each and every way in which he could snap the elephant's bones, wrench his limbs from their sockets, shatter his joints, and generally leave him a whimpering babe begging for mercy, he counted silently to himself with closed eyes, drawing on two decades' worth of training which he'd either ignored or been unable to apply before now. He wasn't sure whether to be proud or disturbed by the fact he had to go all the way up to twenty-five before he felt calm and controlled enough to dare speaking again.

 

"Perfectly," he snapped. "Now, _if_ that's all, perhaps we could finish this?"

 

"Finish this, what?"

 

It took a few moments for him to realize what the smug grin and faintly amused tone meant. Snarling venomously, he yet managed the sullen reply the foreman clearly expected. "Finish this, _sir_." At this the elephant chuckled openly, starting to turn away to his other workers.

 

At Tai Lung's side, for the first time since they'd reached the summit, Tigress at last stirred. "Don't you think you're being a little too hard on him?"

 

The foreman paused, glanced back at her in obvious confusion and disbelief, while the snow leopard himself was staring at Tigress as if she'd grown another head. "Eh?"

 

Ignoring the strange looks everyone, from Monkey on down to the pigs and sheep working on the paving stones of the terrace nearby, was giving her, the striped feline took a deep breath and continued as she stepped forward—quite deliberately in front of Tai Lung.

 

"Believe me, I would be the first to agree that Tai Lung has done wrong and needs to atone for it. But what you're doing...it's not going to help. If anything, it might make things worse." She flicked her eyes briefly to him, and had the grace to flush in what he guessed was shame. "As someone reminded me recently, if we want...things...to change, we all have to do our parts to make that happen. And that means…sometimes, giving them the chance to prove their worth. Treating them the way we'd want to be treated."

 

Suddenly Tai Lung had the distinct impression her words were meant more for him than for the foreman…and also, that this was the closest to an apology he would ever get from her.

 

Before he could even marshal his confused and contradictory thoughts for a response, the elephant spoke again—and the snow leopard didn't know whether to gasp at his audacity, or grin at what Tigress's likely reaction would be. "Humph. Shoulda known you'd take his side in the end. Leave it to a woman to get all emotional and show too much sympathy."

 

If he hadn't known better, Tai Lung would have thought his fellow kung fu master had some sort of mystical power over the weather—because he could have sworn the temperature on the mountain top had just dropped from a blistering summer day into the frigid depths of a winter snowstorm. The flat look she gave with her golden and ruby eyes certainly could have chilled anyone. "You might want to rethink your position," she said...soft and cold.

 

The elephant smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Big bad leader of the Furious Five's gonna put me in my place and tell me what to do. But y'know, there ain't a damn thing you can do about it. You can wish all you like you could rough me up, make me eat those words, but that'd ruin your image, wouldn't it? Nobody'd ever believe you were peaceful protectors anymore."

 

Turning his back on her in contempt, he started to walk away back across the terrace, but somehow couldn't resist tossing back one last jibe at the fuming Tigress, who did indeed seem to be impotent and paralyzed by the conflict between her desires and her duties. "Like it or not, I'm the one who's gonna make him shape up or ship out, little girl. So why don't you get back to it, before I double your load on the work detail?"

 

A vicious, murderous snarl filled the air, and Tai Lung was as surprised as anyone else that it came from his throat and not Tigress's—not that she didn't look just as insulted and ready to come to blows, kung fu oaths or no. But what the elephant said had been the very last straw. It was one thing to attack him, whether verbally or physically; he at least deserved it on some level. But Tigress certainly did not. And he'd be damned if he allowed anything to happen to her...especially if it occurred because she interceded on his behalf.

 

He didn't stop to think; he simply knelt down, scooped up one of the loose paving stones...hefted it in his paw...and then hauled his arm back and threw the stone with all his might.

 

His aim was true, and the brick smashed right into the back of the elephant's head, shattering with the impact. Wiping away the rock dust that now coated him down to his shoulders, the foreman whirled back around, one hand clutching his bleeding scalp as he glared at Tai Lung. He cursed sulfurously. "What the hell—all right, no more Mister Nice Guy..."

 

The elephant never got a chance to finish his thought, as two things happened almost simultaneously. The first thing was the snow leopard rushing forward, shoving Tigress aside and behind him (eliciting a cry of outrage and annoyance that made him wince inwardly, certain he'd pay for that later), so as to brazenly attack the bullying pachyderm. Even now he still held back, knowing that killing or severely maiming the idiot would not at all help his case—in fact it'd make him look all the more like the unchangeable, unforgivable monster everyone still believed him to be.

 

But in all other respects, he made the bastard suffer for every snide taunt and vicious innuendo he'd made at Tigress's expense...punishing him, pummeling him, battering him within an inch of his life. He ducked under those rather dirty tusks to smash first one fist and then the other right underneath the chin, throwing that thick-skulled head up in a wide arc. He jumped up high to deliver a stunningly powerful dropkick right into the elephant's breastbone—hurling him back several feet across the terrace, almost off the edge to topple down the stairs. And a well-placed roundhouse that struck the side of one leg made the bully topple over on one knee, as the other had been caught by his hooking foot, wrenched to the side, and snapped.

 

Rising up on his good knee, the elephant lashed out to grasp Tai Lung around the throat with both hands, bloodlust in his eyes—when the second interference occurred, as from behind the combatants a voice of authority and distinct disapproval echoed from the doorway of the Jade Palace. "What is going on here?"

 

"M-Master Shifu!" Instantly the foreman's demeanor changed from cruel and contemptuous to servile and fawning as he dropped Tai Lung rather unceremoniously. "You won't believe this, but Tai Lung had the audacity to attack me—and after I simply asked him to do the chores _you_ assigned him! He hasn't changed at all, he's the same scourge and killer he always was..."

 

As Tai Lung stared at him in mounting disbelief and fury, the elephant proceeded to weave a completely false and blatantly one-sided tale of what had transpired before the master of the temple had arrived on the scene. Eventually the foreman wound down, having painted himself as the hapless victim of the wicked snow leopard's arrogance, bloodthirstiness, and overweening pride, begged Shifu to remove Tai Lung from his crew before he hurt or murdered anyone else, and insisted on justice being served—which seemed to consist of him receiving proper compensation for his injuries and extra pay while he was kept from working and unable to support his poor wife.

 

And by the time all of this had been said, Tai Lung was not the only one filled with disgust and hate—for out of the corner of his eye he could see as well as hear Tigress cracking her knuckles as she seemed to swell inside her pelt, and even Monkey looked uncomfortable and annoyed.

 

But just as the tiger stepped forward and began to refute the elephant, Shifu held up one tiny hand to cut her off. "No, Master Tigress. This is a matter between myself and Wei Chang here, and you are not to get involved. No discussion." As the leader of the Furious Five looked on helplessly, the red panda turned back to the foreman. "Now...are you certain, Master Wei, that you have told me absolutely everything? Because I need to know it all before I can render judgment."

 

For a moment, Wei faltered, his eyes flicking from Tai Lung, to Tigress, to Monkey—the word of three kung fu masters against his. But then, whether because he thought no one would dare stand up for the ex-convict who had laid waste to the Valley, or because he was just that cocky, he evidently decided to brazen it out. "Yes, Master Shifu. I've told you everything, just the way it happened."

 

Something flickered across Shifu's mustached face, there and gone so quickly the snow leopard wasn't sure what it meant, or if he'd even seen it. Then he nodded solemnly, hands clasped behind him, and stepped forward into the sunlight. "I see. In that case, I should probably tell you that I only asked you as a formality. Because I've been standing in the palace doorway for some time now."

 

Absolute silence reigned on the mountain top, as the blood slowly drained from the elephant's face. When he spoke again, it was in a rueful and chagrined whisper. "H-how long...?"

 

"Long enough," Shifu replied, a trifle smugly. "Believe me, I heard and saw everything."

 

Chest heaving as he struggled to get his temper back under control, and to recover from the surge of adrenaline that had overtaken him as he began combat with the foreman, Tai Lung stared at his master and adopted father in shock—turning briefly to anger at Shifu for not intervening sooner and putting a stop to the abuse, and then finally satisfaction and even admiration as he realized just what the panda had done...basically, stood back and watched long enough to give the elephant the rope with which to hang himself. And, perhaps, to see exactly how the snow leopard would handle the situation...

 

Realizing far too late that he'd been caught in his web of lies, and that he had no one to blame but himself, Wei seemed poised to flee, and he certainly cringed enough to make it seem there were mice about. "M-Master Shifu...this isn't what it looks like..."

 

"Oh no?" The red panda stepped closer still, and despite the fact he wasn't even a fourth Tai Lung's height, he intimidated the elephant as much as if he towered above him like a giant. "I do believe what I observed speaks for itself. I have two words for you: you're fired."

 

"What?" Wei looked stricken. "You can't do that!"

 

Shifu's brows quirked. "I think I just did."

 

"B-but...my wife, my family, how can I—?"

 

"You should have thought of that before you decided to pass judgment where it was not your place." Now, instead of amused and confident, he finally showed the anger he must have been feeling all along. Even though he wasn't the one it was directed at, Tai Lung swallowed. "You deliberately provoked my son to get a rise out of him—and he showed considerable restraint in the matter, I might add, more than I would have were I in his position. Though even I would not have thrown a brick at your head."

 

For a moment Wei relaxed, looking relieved, until Shifu added harshly, "I would have used the Wuxi Finger Hold on you. You also insulted Master Tigress, and by extension the rest of the Five, questioned my judgment in allowing Tai Lung to stay, and dishonored your name and your ancestors by lying. Have I missed anything?"

 

"No, I think you got it all," Monkey supplied cheekily from one side.

 

"Because you are a long-time resident of this Valley," Shifu finished with a slightly more mollified tone, "you will be allowed to stay, and to seek other employment. I am certain a fellow of your skills and talents will be able to find any number of construction opportunities. But I will be watching you...and if I hear one whisper, one rumor that you are causing trouble for Tai Lung again, or even that you disrespected myself or the Furious Five one more time, you can consider yourself exiled. And the temple guardsmen will make certain you leave and do not return." He turned away dismissively. "Now get out of my sight."

 

With each word Shifu spoke, the elephant seemed to deflate and shrink, becoming more and more of a pathetic figure. If he hadn't been so detestable, Tai Lung might actually have felt sorry for him; he'd been on the receiving end of tirades from Shifu before and knew how that felt, and to come that close to dishonoring his name and ancestors had to be a sobering and frightening prospect. "I...forgive me, I didn't mean—"

 

"You heard him!" Monkey snapped, waving his long-fingered hands in the pachyderm's direction. "Get outta here!"

 

Whatever the ex-foreman had been thinking on the subject, he shared none of it...only nodding reluctantly, hurriedly, before hobbling back to his cart, gathering his supplies and possessions, and beating a hasty, limping retreat down the stairs.

 

Silence reigned a few moments more—and then, almost as one, the work crews of sheep and pigs all began to applaud. To his credit, Shifu did not do anything as ostentatious or arrogant as bowing, instead only nodding briefly before turning back to his students.

 

Tigress was smiling now, her fist in the palm of her hand as she did bow to him, in respect and gratitude. "Well played, Master."

 

"Thank you." The red panda looked penetratingly at Tai Lung, who despite everything couldn't help jumping guiltily. Was he still going to be punished, even after all that? "Tai Lung...you did well. I think you're taking to these lessons much more swiftly than I could ever have hoped. I might just need to accelerate the schedule, and teach you what I promised that much sooner."

 

The snow leopard looked from him, to Tigress (who, of all things, was actually smiling at him—grudgingly, still a trifle brittle, but smiling all the same), to Monkey, who seemed to be wondering when Tai Lung had traded places with his heretofore unseen good twin. Even the messenger goose Zeng, who had apparently followed Shifu so as to take down whatever memorandum he'd been dictating, was staring at the spotted cat with wonder and pleased respect rather than his usual nervousness and fear. He knew what he'd done, of course…but really, why were they making such a big deal out of this? And it wasn't as if he still hadn't lost his temper, in the end. "I don't understand. I just did what anyone else would have done."

 

"I know," Shifu answered mysteriously. Then he looked at one of the other high-ranking workers, a bull who had been laboring nearby all throughout the proceedings. "You there—unless anyone has any objections, you are the new foreman. Now get back to work!" This last was delivered, not as a sharp order, but with a twinkle in his eyes...and then the red panda turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the palace without another word, Zeng trailing silently after him.

 

As he departed, the bull he had singled out strode over to where the three masters still stood gathered, trying to process all that had occurred. Tai Lung frowned worriedly—the fellow didn't seem threatening, despite being of a size with the snow leopard, in fact he looked downright friendly. But after what happened with Master Wei, he wasn't taking any chances. "Yes?" he asked, warily. "If this is about making sure I follow orders correctly, you can be certain I know just what to do next. I was only taking a brief break."

 

"What?" The bull looked blankly at him, glanced back at the cart filled with cut stones and carved timbers which he had lugged onto the terrace before this all started, then laughed and shook his head. "Are you kidding me? After all the hard work you've put in today, and how much you've hauled up here, you could take the rest of the day off as far as I'm concerned. We'd never have gotten all this up here today without you." He paused, as if debating the advisability of his action, before stepping forward and resting a hand on Tai Lung's shoulder. "No, I just wanted to let you know—no one here's gonna hold a grudge against you for what you did. Wei was a hardass to everybody, thought he was the gods' gift to this green earth, and nobody's gonna miss him."

 

He paused again, then squeezed Tai Lung's shoulder as he leaned in close, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I also wanted to tell you...not everybody's against you in the village, Tai Lung. Yeah, you did some bad things, and hurt a lot of people. But the way I see it, the gods like to test us. Maybe that's all that was...maybe that's all this is, too. And even if you made mistakes, well...how else are you supposed to learn from them if we don't give you a chance? Maybe you can't earn everyone's forgiveness...but if you keep up what you've been doing, you might just get it given to you freely." The bull smiled, turning away. "So don't give up, okay? Because you never know where you might have friends you don't know about."

 

As the bull slipped easily back into the crowd of workers, who all seemed to be toiling away much more assiduously and happily than before, Tai Lung swayed a little on his feet, rather feeling an urgent need to sit down. _Friends? How...how can this be?_

 

What stunned him even more than this nonsensical announcement was what he'd just experienced. In the space of a few minutes, Tigress, Shifu, and a man he didn't even know had all shown their willingness to stand up for him, to trust and believe in him, and to even fight his battles for him. On the one hand, he could easily have taken that elephant, and neither wanted nor needed anyone protecting him and eliminating threats to his welfare, as if he were a helpless cub.

 

On the other hand...no one had _wanted_ to protect him, or stand up for him, in over twenty years. And now that he'd felt it, and experienced it...he wanted it again. In fact it shocked him how he could have gotten along without it, how he couldn't have missed it the way he'd missed light and air and freedom.

 

Surprisingly, both Monkey and Tigress gave him time and space to consider all that had happened, and when he finally nodded his readiness to go back to work, they remained at his side—not so much as guardians or jailers, but like concerned companions. He felt his heart swell in his breast again. He didn't know what this had to do with his future course, how it would help him become a true hero and attain the greatness he'd always craved...but the simple fact was, it felt _good_. And he didn't want to stop feeling it if he could help it.

 

For the present, however, all he was feeling was more soreness in his aching muscles, as the next several hours were spent continuing the repair work chores. And while nothing which was left on the agenda was quite as backbreaking as bringing all the stone and wood up the stairway, there was still more than enough going around to break a sweat. When he wasn't kneeling on the hard paving stones, following the directions of a pig in how to pour and smooth out with a trowel the wet, fast-drying rock being used to fill in cracks, or fitting newly quarried stones into the crater he'd smashed into the terrace, he was hoisting up the beams for the new doors under the supervision of the bull.

 

In that task, at least, he had the assistance of both Tigress and Monkey, which was a very good thing—even his powerful muscles had trouble lifting the massive panels into place, and in any event their top-heavy nature and the sharp angle at which they had to be lifted would have made it awkward even if they'd been extremely light.

 

At last, by mid-afternoon, all the major work which could be done had been accomplished. The enormous slabs of oak had replaced the ragged hole and splintered doors he'd made, fitted quite snugly in their jambs and with all the proper brass fixtures—such as hinges and lock plates—riveted and screwed into place. The only thing not yet completed was the reconstruction of the gorgeous jade designs which had always adorned the doors, depicting the twirling vines and gigantic leaves of the fan palm. And that was something which, like the interior marble, only the skilled craftsmen of the village could handle.

 

Even so, so much had been completed already, with so many hands laboring together to finish the repair work in record time. And as Tai Lung stood beside his fellow masters and gazed up at what they had wrought, and as the bull foreman joined them to offer words of congratulations and a hearty slap on the back, the snow leopard couldn't keep a renewed swelling of pride from taking up residence in him.

 

It was as Shifu had said, though he had doubted him, distrusted him, and thought him as blind and foolish as Oogway, once upon a time. There _was_ something immensely satisfying about all this. Not that he'd ever wish to devote his life to such pursuits; he might have the strength for it, but certainly not the eye for fine detail, or the patience. But it was good to know this now, before he made a mistake in what his life's calling should be…and because it proved to him that in at least one respect, both he and Shifu had been right about him.

 

Although he could do other things, if given the time and instructions, he had not, as yet, found anything he excelled at or had taken to so quickly as kung fu. While there were many other possibilities yet to try—and for the first time, he actually wished to attempt them, if only as supplemental hobbies rather than lifelong vocations—he was now even more convinced that whatever else might change for him, kung fu was his life.

 

How he would employ it when he could never be the Dragon Warrior, he hadn't the foggiest. And even if threats to the peace and safety of the Valley manifested themselves, he somehow doubted merely protecting and defending others would make him feel fulfilled. But then, he'd found he was wrong about so much already, and he had yet to truly protect the innocent—not as an end to itself, not when his achieving the Dragon Scroll and proving himself worthy of Oogway's blessing hadn't been riding on it. So who knew how it might feel, now.

 

But he wanted to learn. He wanted to know if it felt as good as having people who cared, friends, a purpose...a life of his own.

 

Tossing his trowel back into a wheelbarrow, he glanced again at Tigress and Monkey, then idly twirled the hammer before shoving it back in his waistband with a wry smirk. _I've helped build a new set of doors. Now I just have to open them, walk through...and see where they lead._

                                                                       

* * *

 

With most of the difficult labor accomplished, Shifu decreed that the Five, Po, and Tai Lung could take the rest of the day off—not only to recover their strength and as a reward for all their hard work, but to prepare their bodies and minds for the midsummer Ghost Festival which would be held the next day.

 

Hearing this, the Dragon Warrior immediately began cooking up a storm, devising a feast such as the Valley of Peace had not seen in years. Most of the Five either went to their rooms to rest and meditate, or hung over Po's shoulder, offering advice or simply reveling in the delectable aromas emanating from the kitchen. But Tigress, still yearning for privacy and having so much to think about, decided to go down to the village...and to her annoyance and puzzlement, Tai Lung chose to follow her.

 

Ever since their encounter in his cell, and certainly since their trip into the village together, the striped feline had been at a loss to explain her conflicted feelings, let alone properly deal with them. Although the latter time in his company had begun to convince her that, even if she still could not trust him to avoid a relapse or otherwise choose to revert to his old ways, at the very least his regrets for what he had done and his desire to atone for it were genuine, she still refused to believe that he should be given a free pass from imprisonment.

 

His time in Chorh-Gom had been meant to keep him from repeating his atrocities, from coming back to steal the scroll and exact revenge—something which, she could no longer deny, did not seem to be his goal any longer. But he had also been incarcerated as punishment...and while he could whine, moan, and complain about the terrible treatment he'd received from Vachir, or how inhumane and cruel his restraining device had been, the destruction and numerous deaths he'd caused made her doubt any punishment could ever truly fit his crimes. Even death might be too good for him.

 

That had been why she'd agreed, in the end, to go on the shopping expedition in the first place. Because if anything would truly convince Tai Lung to walk the straight and narrow path, to repent his rampage and ensure nothing like it could ever happen again, it would be witnessing firsthand the true pain and hatred of the Valley's people. And if he could not, or would not, change...if this were all an act, or if he were beyond redemption no matter how much he might wish it...then to be haunted for the rest of his days by what he heard and saw in town was the most fitting punishment she could devise for him.

 

Of course, he'd surprised her with the real contrition and sorrow for his misdeeds, and since then he'd surprised her again—with his ability to restrain his legendary temper, with his determination to do all Shifu asked of him, with the warrior's soul and nobility of heart she'd caught glimpses of in his reaction to the Urn of Whispering Warriors and his tales of his cubhood and adolescence. Hell, he'd surprised her by not simply murdering Po that first day in his cell, let alone in the kwoon almost a week later.

 

She didn't know what it all meant. Or rather, she had an inkling but didn't want to believe it. Because if Tai Lung were not truly evil, then her behavior towards him was unconscionable and inexcusable. Because if the snow leopard were not the vile, twisted, cruel beast she had been raised to believe him to be, then she no longer had anyone to blame for the great loss of her life, the denial of Shifu's love—no one except Shifu himself, someone she could not bring herself to hate. How could she, after what he had done for her at Bao Gu, after he was the only one to believe she herself was not a monster...the only one to open his doors to her and give her a home, friends, a family?

 

Because if, instead of the heartless villain who had slaughtered so many innocents and laughed over their bloody corpses, Tai Lung were a deeply wronged and hurt soul who had only been denied what he'd been rightfully promised, then that meant two things. That the line separating the two of them, the line she had but to cross to become exactly like or no better than he, was fine indeed. And that there was no longer any justification for her to resist what her body was telling her.

 

She wanted him. Wanted him more than anything in her life, even kung fu mastery or the Dragon Scroll—save for Shifu's love and approval. And that frightened her just as much as the prospect Tai Lung might still be playing them all for fools.

 

It was not that she had any issue with her femininity, or with one day taking a lover and even raising a family, she thought defensively as she hurried down the endless staircase. While it was not and never would be the preeminent thought in her mind, neither had she avoided it or rejected it. For on the rare occasions when she managed to contemplate life outside of the Jade Palace, she had to admit that having children of her own was a very attractive prospect.

 

Though some might doubt it from first impressions, or find it hard to believe after how she'd been treated at Bao Gu, she loved children, and always had. She might not always have the patience for them, but that would come with time and meditation, she was sure. Being so focused on achieving the highest standards Shifu could set for her merely made her appear more harsh and unforgiving than she truly was. And as for the orphanage...while at the time the fear and distrust she'd experienced had been heart-rending and even enraged her, with maturity and hindsight she understood why her fellow orphans, and even the poor headmistress, had reacted as they did.

 

Besides, in the end they did finally accept her…and what better way would there be for her to assure no child went through the same suffering, than to raise her own?

 

No, what upset her and completely undermined her confidence and strength of purpose, what made her continue to lash out at Tai Lung even when it seemed nonsensical...what distressed her to the point she barely had any appetite these days and was destroying the devices in the training hall with upsetting regularity, was that she wanted Tai Lung so badly it hurt—and she didn't know _why_.

 

It wasn't as if she'd never known attractive men before the snow leopard. Not her fellow masters in the Furious Five—Crane and Monkey were more like brothers to her, Mantis was far too irascible (and raunchy) for her tastes, and none of them were even very compatible in species or size. But there had been males who caught her eye, if only briefly.

 

The massive, thickly furred wolf from the snowy northern reaches of Siberia, a soldier or mercenary of some sort—she'd never caught the specifics, since he spoke with such a thick, indecipherable accent, and he'd also been something of an enemy. The slender fox merchant from the east—where had he said he was from? Honshu?—who'd been a delightful conversationalist and knowledgeable on so much in the rest of the world...but excessively formal and hidebound by tradition. And the felines she'd encountered—a handsome but rather boring tiger from the capital, a bureaucrat or courtier of some sort; and a lion monk from across the Himalayas, in a land called India...who somehow even with his shaven mane had appeared extremely regal, but also oddly sad.

 

None of them had drawn her attention for more than a passing interest, certainly not to the extent that Tai Lung had...nor had they incited such intense and contradictory emotions within her. She didn't understand it—was it merely timing, and he had caught her off guard when her body was telling her it was time to settle down with a mate, before she had lost all her chances? Was it just the adversarial nature of their interactions, the combination of a competitive drive and a proud craving for recognition and acceptance, that created such a strong bond between them—one she was mistaking for something else? Were they so much alike that it made him innately, and illicitly, appealing? Was it the sheer presence he exuded?

 

Or could it really be just chemistry, some sort of natural attractant she'd never encountered from a male before? She had not, after all, ever met a snow leopard before he came into her life. If the latter was the case, this upset and worried her all the more, since it suggested that no matter what other considerations there were, the fact they might not ever be friends and would probably never be capable of a real, healthy romance, her body might ignore all these danger signs and plunge headlong into it anyway. Something she could not allow even if he really were to redeem himself. And even if there were more to the attraction, one of her previous surmises or something she hadn't even thought of yet, it was no guarantee she and Tai Lung could ever make something real and lasting.

 

And that was almost the worst possibility of all...for while these feelings could blind her to any duplicity on his part, thus allowing the ex-convict to betray and slaughter her friends, her master, and the Valley, if he were everything he claimed to be but they could still not make this work... She didn't know if she could face such hurt. She didn't believe her heart could take such rejection, not when after being sealed away so long it finally was leaping at the chance to have its first taste of love, in any form.

 

And the very fact this would be her first real relationship with a man—if she actually pursued anything with Tai Lung, which of course she would _not_ —made her resist it all the more. Being new to this, how could she trust it? She couldn't afford to make a judgment that could adversely affect her life if she based it solely on feelings and urges she had no experience with or understanding of.

 

No, until she knew the truth, and could truly trust him, she had to keep him at arm's length. Even if such a miracle occurred, she still had to hold back until she was sure. This was no exercise in the kwoon, where if she made a mistake she could simply correct her stance, choose a different angle of attack, and try again. Real lives, and real hearts that could be broken, were at stake. And if Tai Lung hurt her, then she would hunt him to the ends of the earth.

 

Or else chase him there, if he tried to get away from her advances.

 

Groaning to herself, Tigress shook her head and rubbed her temples. These thoughts were getting her nowhere. What was absolutely critical was, whatever would or would not happen with the snow leopard, and whatever she was missing that both drew her to him and created such obstacles between them, it didn't justify the way she had treated him—or poor Viper.

 

They could not know why she was acting so strangely, just as she could never admit, to the serpent or anyone, that the unforgivable act Tai Lung had committed in his cell was to make her care about his welfare...and even worse, to make her desire him. If Tai Lung were truly trying to change, as shockingly seemed to be the case, then he did not deserve her bitterness and mockery—hence why she had defended him against Wei Chang, and the fact he had defended her in turn was promising indeed. If he were not, she still needed to relent—to confuse and throw him off the scent, make him let down his defenses.

 

As for Viper, she had only been trying to help, in her harmless if somewhat busybody way. She really needed to make it up to her friend, buy her a festival gift for her ancestors with as much of her allowance as was appropriate without being insultingly extravagant...

 

As she reached the foot of the steps and was crossing the moon bridge into town, however, her thoughts were interrupted as Tai Lung finally caught up with her. Whether she'd set an even faster pace than usual or he was still winded from hauling the stones and timbers up the mountain, she didn't know, but he actually had to gasp heavily for a few moments and get his breathing back under control before he could speak.

 

"Where's the fire, Master Tigress? Is there something you forgot in the village? Too stifling and cramped up at the dormitories? Or was there something you couldn't find at the Jade Palace you absolutely _had_ to have?" He smirked knowingly, as if he'd just hit upon her true, secret vice, the feminine proclivity for shopping.

 

For a moment she was tempted to match him sarcasm for sarcasm by saying yes, she had to come down to the village in order to find intelligent company, a hope which had been dashed by his presence. But instead, after a few deep, calming breaths, she replied evenly, "As a matter of fact, no. There's just something I have to do, now that Master Shifu has given me the time for it. Since you're already here, and I still can't let you wander around unsupervised, I suppose you can accompany me."

 

Despite the reluctance and resentment she put into her voice, in point of fact Tigress hoped Tai Lung would come along. The errand she had to run would be an...interesting test for him. It would certainly prove whether he was truly changing or not. And best of all, it would be terribly _fun_ , something she hadn't indulged in since she was a cub.

 

The snow leopard, meanwhile, fell for her line like a fish on a hook. After a brief, flat stare, most likely at her refusal to grant him his freedom, the feline smirked again and nodded, spreading his paws in seeming helplessness and giving a high sigh. "I'm afraid you're right, there's nothing for it. I'll just have to be your shadow 'til we get back to the temple. I'll try not to step on your toes or get in your way."

 

"See that you don't," Tigress purred coldly, even as she struggled to restrain a giggle. _This will be entertaining._

 

Without another word, she led the way through the cobblestone streets with her usual purposeful stride, and it may have been a debatable point whether the villagers who parted to let them pass were doing so out of fear of Tai Lung or respect for her. Although she nodded and smiled, albeit tightly, to anyone who spoke to or otherwise acknowledged her, she remained focused on her goal and refused to notice those who continued directing hateful, venomous looks at the snow leopard. Not because she was completely convinced, yet, that he deserved his second chance or would truly prove himself worthy of it, but because she couldn't stand the looks of betrayal and disappointment those same villagers gave her when they saw her in Tai Lung's company, seemingly sanctioning his presence...

 

By the time they reached a fairly large house on the western edge of town—long and low, built of white stone and roofed with the ubiquitous golden bamboo and brightly-painted, green wood, with fairly extensive gardens and grounds—the snow leopard seemed to be more confused than she'd ever seen him, as he clearly couldn't tell what sort of place they'd come to, let alone why she had brought him there.

 

Taking great care to ensure her face was turned away from him, so he would not see the enormous grin she was sporting, Tigress remained silent just to annoy Tai Lung further, until they finally arrived at the crimson door of the structure, just across another bridge where the river waters lapped at the pilings.

 

Pausing there, she turned back to him with an absolutely serious, stern expression. "I should warn you...what you're about to see may come as a bit of a shock."

 

Tai Lung threw her a very odd look, then snorted. "I'll take that under advisement, but I'm ready for anything."

 

Twisting the handle, she shoved hard, pushing the door open wide.

 

" _AUNTIE TIGRESS!_ "

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Tai Lung utterly frozen in place, an expression of unmitigated panic locked on his features while, just as it had during his acupuncture session, his thick, luscious pelt puffed out in a ridiculous ball of fur. The sight was so comical she'd have joined in on the peals of wild giggling that filled the house, if she weren't focused on the approaching horde. _Ready for anything, hmm?_

 

Bunnies, sheep, pigs, goats, geese, cattle, even a few tigers and turtles—they all greeted her effusively, with shrieks of delight, excited chatter, and of course more clinging hugs than she could ever hope to count. She lost track of the number of faces peering up at her with shining eyes and enormous grins, and after a few moments she closed her eyes and just let the tide wash over her.

 

"Master Tigress, Master Tigress! Look what Baba taught me to do!" A rabbit did a passable, if shaky, handstand.

 

"How long are you staying? Oh I hope it's _all_ day!"

 

"Mama bought me your action figure, isn't it _cool_?"

 

"Where's the Dragon Warrior? He promised he'd come see us soon!"

 

"We thought you'd _never_ come back, it's been _ages_!" a piglet said solemnly.

 

"I was just here yesterday," Tigress observed in bemusement.

 

"Like I said, _ages_!"

 

"Is it really true, the Thread of Hope is back? And everyone's fixin' the Palace?"

 

"I'm hungry, when's dinner?"

 

" _Yeah_!" a chorus of childish voices resounded.

 

"I wanna be just like you when I grow up," a little tiger girl with a lotus bloom above one ear said shyly.

 

" _Yeah_!" the chorus repeated, even louder.

 

"Can you get me Master Shifu's autograph?"

 

"Baba says you're the best thing since sliced asparagus. What's that mean?"

 

Somewhere behind her, she was sure she heard the sound of furred flesh smacking together, as of a palm striking a face. Then, when the headmistress appeared to try and hush the over stimulated children (an attempt that was, admittedly, somewhat in vain), and a brief lull entered the jabbering conversation, Tai Lung finally stepped forward beside her. Staring down aghast, he managed to point an accusing finger at the group of cubs still gathered around her kneeling figure. "What...where did _those_ come from?"

 

This time she couldn't hold back her first instinctive response. "You're almost forty years old, and Shifu _still_ hasn't given you that talk yet?"

 

Amazingly (and amusingly), the great and mighty Tai Lung actually blushed beet red. _Oh, I really shouldn't be enjoying myself this much. But he makes it so easy!_

 

Spluttering and grumbling under his breath, he soon recovered well enough to hiss at her, "That's _not_ what I meant, as you bloody well know! What are they doing here, and more to the point, why are we here _with_ them?"

 

Tigress bit her lip to keep from laughing, even as she directed at him an innocent look. "You may not have heard of it, but this is what is known as a daycare. It's where parents bring their children to be looked after during the day when they have to work and can't be around to watch them. And right now, in fact, it happens to be housing the cubs of all the workers helping to repair the Jade Palace."

 

The snow leopard still looked disgruntled and annoyed, as if he longed to take issue with her choice of words—which had indeed been deliberately chosen to make him seem as ignorant as possible. But before he could speak again, the children in question finally noticed him.

 

A very long, hushed silence ensued, as those who knew who he was became absolutely still with fright, and for a moment Tigress's self-satisfaction fled as she cursed inwardly at her stupidity; she'd been so focused on humiliating the snow leopard she'd forgotten how some of the young ones might react to him. However, not all of the children were afraid—most just seemed confused and uncertain what they should say or do. And at least one was rather thrilled.

 

From the pack of huddled cubs, one little girl squirmed out to stare up at Tai Lung intently. It was, Tigress saw, the cow child from the other day during the supply run. And as she watched in mingled bemusement and worry, the child suddenly leaped into motion, making a beeline for the snow leopard and wrapping her arms around his lower leg like a leech. "Kitty!"

 

If anything, the look on Tai Lung's face became even more despairing and uncomfortable—but also resigned. Gazing down at the bovine at a complete loss, he finally sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Yes. Yes I am. And you know your species. That's...that's good."

 

Of course, as soon as they heard a halfway friendly voice (instead of terrible, savage growls) come out of his mouth, and saw he didn't immediately lash out at the cow, the rest of the children started slowly but surely gathering around him, peering up in awe and curiosity. And as he rather weakly sat down in a handy chair, more than a few reached out and, like the little girl, started gripping his legs or petting his bare-furred arms.

 

"Your fur is _so_ soft..." a soft-spoken sheep marveled.

 

"Yes, and I'd like to keep it that way," Tai Lung muttered. He looked up at Tigress in a mute appeal, but she only crossed her arms over her chest and imperceptibly shook her head at him, her message quite clear: 'You're on your own.'

 

Instead, the tiger peered down at the cow, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't think I've seen you here before, little one. What's your name?"

 

Immediately the girl let go of Tai Lung so she could twist her hands behind her back and stand awkwardly on one foot—but she remained as precocious and bright-eyed as ever as she answered eagerly. "I'm Yi, Master Tigress."

_Of course. A perfect name_. "So you are. And who are your parents? Are they working up at the palace, too?"

 

Yi looked thoughtful for a few moments, then she smiled. "Baba is. He makes things! Big doors, and steps, and walls, and houses, and..."

 

"I see, that's very nice, sweetie." Tigress briefly exchanged a troubled glance with Tai Lung—it seemed almost beyond coincidence, but there were not a large number of bovines in the Valley of Peace. Chances were this girl's father was the very bull who had spoken so kindly to the snow leopard...yet her mother was also the one who had shown him such hatred. This didn't bode well at all...

 

Shaking these gloomy thoughts aside, she instead clapped her paws together for attention and answered one of the cubs' earlier questions. "All right everyone! Master Po said he'd be down later on, with some of his candied walnut apples for us, but until then we have Mr. Tai Lung here to keep us company. And maybe, if you're all _very_ good, he'll show you a few kung fu moves. How's that sound?"

 

The sound of cheering was mildly deafening—which was a good thing, as it completely drowned out the snow leopard's cry of anguish.

 

For the next several hours until it was time for the evening meal, the children of the daycare did their level best to mob Tai Lung, and to Tigress's surprise and (she had to grudgingly admit) relief, despite his extreme displeasure at being coerced into this the snow leopard never once laid a hand to any of the little ones. Oh, there were more than a few tense moments—such as when, quite by accident, a young caprine hoof came down on Tai Lung's still sore tail, or when a rather gawky stork asked with complete innocence why one of his fingers was crooked.

 

And at one point the matronly rabbit who ran the facility came rushing out in a fright, ready to smack away some interloping criminal with her broom when she heard what she thought was the screams of the terrified children...only to discover they were merely squealing in delight as they dangled and swung from the snow leopard's arms while he crouched on the floor for them. (Not by his own will, at least not at first—the sheer weight of all the cubs clambering atop him had borne him down over time.)

 

It was also true that he'd hardly appreciated being relegated to changing duties when one of the youngest, a tiny red panda with eyes and ears even larger than Shifu's, had soiled his linen diaper. To his credit, Tai Lung had done his best, gritting his teeth manfully against the stench and only briefly wavering as if on the verge of passing out before muttering that if he had mastered the Scorpion pose, he could handle this. It had even looked as if he'd properly fastened the cloth in place, albeit with an excess of loops and bulk. But when he proudly held up the fellow for inspection, the diaper had of course fallen right off.

 

Staring down in despair at the floor, and watching morosely as the panda cub proceeded to relieve himself on the rush mat, he'd given Tigress a long-suffering look. "This is karmic justice, I suppose."

 

"Quite."

 

"And a devilishly nasty way for Shifu to get a little revenge on me."

 

"Could well be."

 

"And this is probably exactly the sort of thing I put him through when I was this age."

 

"Most children do."

 

He'd sighed heavily. "I take back every bad thing I ever said about him, then."

 

Giggling, the panda cub had reached out and, with unerring accuracy, grabbed hold of Tai Lung's mustache, ripping it out with one good yank. A pause, as the snow leopard worked his muzzle painfully and squeezed his watering eyes shut... Then the feline had uttered one, agonized word: "Owwww..."

 

Tigress had only shaken her head ruefully and smiled as she came over to take the cub and, without complaint, proceeded to diaper him properly. Behind her, she'd heard him mutter, "All right...I take back _almost_ everything...owwww..."

 

"Should I get some ointment for you, or were you going to suffer stoically as usual?"

 

His voice turned miserable and sullen. "I hate you."

 

"You're only saying that to make me feel better."

 

But eventually even Tigress had been forced to conclude that the snow leopard had far more patience and understanding than she could ever have expected from him—for in time, struggling and resisting all the way, he had begun to soften and become more accepting of his innocent playmates. And more than once, as the children begged and persuaded him to get down to their level for some wild romps on the floor, she could have sworn she'd caught him smiling, very faintly. Could this have taken him back to his aborted cubhood, perhaps? Reminded him of the days before everything had become all about discipline and severity, when it was still allowed to have fun...?

 

Whatever sympathy she'd been starting to gain for him, however, evaporated when Po at last arrived at the daycare with the promised snacks. Because the children were so engrossed in their game, they actually failed to notice him in the doorway, thus giving him a perfect display of how they had laid the snow leopard low. And after taking one look at the spotted feline absolutely smothered in cubs, several of them riding between his broad shoulders so as to tug encouragingly on his ears, the Dragon Warrior had melted, tears welling up in his huge green eyes.

 

"Awwwwwww! Would ya look at that...always knew ya had it in ya."

 

Tai Lung froze, mid-pony romp. "You didn't see anything."

 

Po smirked. "Sure did. Every last, beautiful minute of it."

 

"No! I'll deny everything. You couldn't get me to swear to it in front of the magistrate!" The snow leopard, once again, looked rather panicked.

 

"Don't worry, buddy. Your dark secret is safe with me. Can't speak for Master Tigress, of course, but..." The panda glanced at her meaningfully, but she chose to look away, whistling idly to herself. _Whatever Master Oogway said, blackmail is **not** beneath a kung fu warrior_.

 

As the children finally leaped off of Tai Lung to swarm around Po, begging for their sweets, the Dragon Warrior grinned kindly down at each one of them—ruffling hair here, rubbing ears there, his chin actually quivering a little as he saw how each and every one of them seemed in awe of him for his new heroic status in the Valley. Then he looked up at the snow leopard again, watching as Yi once again refused to let go of her kitty, while several others were returning to offer him their desserts.

 

"Ya see? Told ya ya had a good heart in there somewhere! You're gonna make it, big guy. You can do anythin' ya put your mind to."

 

Something nasty and venomous flared deep inside Tigress's heart as she once again heard Po heap praise onto Tai Lung—and this time for something she had helped orchestrate no less. It never would have happened, he never would have had the chance to perform this good deed, if not for her...and something that had been her own idea, something which should have earned her gratitude and acknowledgement, had instead once again been diverted and usurped by the snow leopard, as if _he_ had thought of it! She wanted to laugh bitterly at the irony.

 

Suddenly it didn't matter how much she'd been enjoying herself, or that in her own, vindictive little way she'd been helping Shifu train the snow leopard in humility. Because somehow, as soon as she heard the panda once more fanboying over his idol, and saw Tai Lung avert his gaze in embarrassment, she felt something she never thought she would, something she would deny with her dying breath.

 

She was jealous. Jealous of Tai Lung. He had mastered all one thousand scrolls, when she had not. He had received Shifu's love, the one thing she'd always yearned for above all else. Kung fu had come to him with such ease, when she'd had to slave and sweat and toil away simply to control her strength. And now he even had Po's affections and hero worship...something which had annoyed and infuriated her when he first came to the Jade Palace, but now... _You don't know, and miss, what you have until you lose it_. Against her will, she'd begun to find the panda's mannerisms and obvious affection for her endearing, had secretly enjoyed it.

 

But now she'd lost it. To Tai Lung. He was the panda's new hero, not the leader of the Furious Five. And what made it worse was, it was most likely her own fault, for how she'd treated him since the choosing ceremony.

 

Now she knew, at last, the source of so much of her hatred, resentment, and anger for the snow leopard. And she had not the faintest idea how to deal with it, or overcome it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a few translations from the Chinese: Wei=lofty or towering, Chang=smooth, free, unrestrained (something of an ironic naming here), Yi=gift (or joy). Expect more of this in the future. Also, I am continuing in my tradition of linking species with the locales from which the characters hail. Wolves are native to Siberia, I continue to associate foxes (kitsune) with Japan, tigers are naturally from China, and the lion monk was my nod to the Gir lions of India—which, in a nice double meaning, had a shaven mane both due to his religious calling and because Gir lions have a much shorter mane than their African counterparts. I should probably have mentioned this before, but I am also something of a random quote generator—I love to draw upon many sources when I am writing, if not outright quoting them. In this case, today's chapter includes a reference to a deleted scene from Disney/Walden's _Prince Caspian_ in Tigress's joke to Tai about not having 'the talk', and her later remark about him trying 'to make her feel better' is my first homage of many to David Eddings' _Belgariad_ and _Malloreon_ series. Forgive me for this—but at least I'm not being anachronistic! As for anyone wondering what the villain is up to...you'll find out next chapter. ;)


	13. Echoes of the Past

 

Of course, no matter how dearly he wished otherwise, Tai Lung wasn't able to keep his moment of weakness a secret for long—because about twenty minutes or so after Po's arrival, Shifu and the rest of the Five also put in an appearance at the daycare. Luckily by that point he had at least persuaded the children to allow him some semblance of dignity by putting an end to the impromptu horseback rides, so that when the other kung fu warriors entered the airy, twilight-lit front room of the house they didn't catch him doing something quite so shameful.

 

Instead, while Tigress was engrossed, appropriately enough, in weaving a cat's cradle between Yi's fingers and Po was the one making an utter fool of himself gamboling and whooping and leaping across the wooden floor with cubs atop his back, the snow leopard was quite sedately playing checkers with a succession of inquisitive, bright-eyed faces, while the headmistress looked on warily but approvingly.

 

The children, naturally, were hardly the most stellar players, but it had been over twenty years since Tai Lung had played the game, making him more than a bit rusty, so it was a toss-up as to who won more often than not. But that wasn't the point. The point, he noted somewhat acerbically when Mantis and Crane looked on the verge of smirking openly, was that it was a surefire way to keep the 'little darlings' quiet—and that was the only reason he indulged in it.

 

Somehow he didn't think he fooled any of them, especially Shifu and Viper who exchanged a knowing look. But what was of paramount importance was that his masculine image hadn't been tarnished any further, that no one else suspected he'd actually, grudgingly, almost against his will been enjoying himself. He was adamant in this!

 

Eventually, however, the playful scene was forced to draw to a close when Shifu revealed that all the work at the temple had been completed, and the craftsmen would soon be returning to pick up their children. Predictably, there was a great deal of disappointment and regret expressed—by Po as well as the cubs—but under the firm, no-nonsense direction of the rabbit matron, the young ones (save for Yi) began the process of cleaning up and putting away all their toys, so they would be presentable when their parents came.

 

The little cow girl, of course, would simply not let go of Tai Lung's arm, and no matter how frustrating it was becoming, he didn't have the heart to raise his voice to her. He certainly wouldn't try to remove her by force—even before his wild rage had subsided, he had never harmed a single child, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Only after she'd extracted a promise from him that he would come back to play with her again very soon did Yi let him go and toddle off. At that point, his master had noted that he had one small, minor task he wished accomplished before the night was out, and then they could retire to the bunkhouse to sleep and rest up for the festival the next day.

 

Wondering what more Shifu could want of him, and absolutely refusing to take his words at face value—what the red panda considered "small" and "minor" would be arduous and painful to anyone else—Tai Lung had yet agreed, on the condition he could at least pause first to have dinner.

 

Which was why he was now on his way through the village once more, enduring the company of Po, so as to sample (in the panda's estimation anyway) the best soup and pasta dishes in the province—at his father's noodle shop. And despite how uncomfortable and irritated the Dragon Warrior made him feel, he was actually grateful for the chance to get away...and not just because it allowed him to escape the clinging children and the scrutiny of Shifu and the Five.

 

Because ever since Po had turned up at the daycare, Tigress had become harder, colder, and more closed off than ever—instead of the playful, bantering (if still needling) attitude she'd started to ease into, she had reverted back to the flat, vicious stares he'd begun to hope were a thing of the past. And the most upsetting part of it was, he had no idea _why_.

 

Maybe all felines were mentally unstable. Or else women were.

 

Tired of having to try and puzzle her out, however, he was glad to get away from those accusing eyes even for only an hour. Even if it meant having to put up with the panda's ridiculous antics. Case in point: while most of the citizens they passed in the streets still eyed Tai Lung askance in terror, hatred, or at least uncertainty, Po seemed completely oblivious—his conversation careening from one subject to another, from the adorable cuteness of the village children to the 'cool' kung fu moves Shifu had been teaching him, with barely a pause for breath. Combine this with his still surprisingly bouncy nature, as he alternately demonstrated his latest lesson or gave his points more 'punch' with a gesture, and the snow leopard swore his teeth would be ground down to points before the panda ever ran down.

 

How could Po truly be unaware of the way the townsfolk saw the spotted feline? Or...was he? Could he be deliberately tuning them out, not allowing their negativity and distrust to get him down? Could he even, wonder of wonders, have learned the same sorts of focusing techniques as Tai Lung had, so as to be able to literally ignore whatever sights and sounds he chose? Food for thought.

 

A low, fierce, violent rumble resonated from just above his beltline, and Tai Lung grabbed at his abdomen with a wince. _I really shouldn't have thought of food, just there_.

 

"I hate to sound like one of our new fan club, but are we there yet? To coin a phrase, I can't exactly fuel this body on dewdrops and the energy of the universe." He grunted sourly. "And not just because I'm not the Dragon Warrior." An odd queasy feeling had also settled in the pit of his stomach, one he couldn't explain since it seemed to have nothing to do with the topic he'd just brought up. Something felt...wrong.

 

Po ceased his vigorous motions, pausing on one foot with the other leg extended, having just performed an amazingly flawless roundhouse kick—one the snow leopard suspected would have had an awful lot of power behind it, if he hadn't idly ducked it out of instinct. Then the panda chuckled. "Neither can I, and I _did_ open the scroll. Don't worry, buddy, it's right around the corner up there, then two blocks down..."

 

Tai Lung almost tripped over a cobblestone, and actually had to force his paws to keep him moving along the street instead of freezing him in place. Now he knew what felt wrong—those directions sounded far too familiar. He'd been here before. _No. It couldn't be. That would make his father a...goose?!_

 

But it was true. Because as soon as the two of them crossed another bridge, then rounded the corner the panda had referred to, he could see the noodle shop just down the street...and even after twenty years and some major renovations, the place was unmistakable. Now he did stop in place, eyes widened and paws spread helplessly in front of him as he struggled with this unwelcome and unexpected truth. "Wait a minute...you never told me you were..."

 

The panda, who had been sauntering along whistling a jolly tune, stopped and looked back—first confused, then concerned as he saw the look on Tai Lung's face. "What's the matter, big guy? You look like you just saw a ghost!"

 

Licking his lips, he forced the words out even though his throat was quite dry. "Your name. It's not...Ping, is it?"

 

Scratching his white-furred belly, the bear frowned. "Well yeah, Po Ping. Why?"

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the nasty voice of sarcasm that had been implanted and flourished under Shifu's tutelage only to reach new heights (or depths) during his years at Chorh-Gom, the one which observed everything around him with cynicism and suspicion, was laughing snidely. _'Precious Peace'? Ugh. I may become violently ill_.

 

But the rest of him was facing a very unpleasant fact—one which he knew had to be dealt with now, before it was revealed for him by the idiotic goose who ran the place. He knew this revelation might well upset, even anger, the panda...though why that should bother him, he had no idea...it must be because it could put an end to the ego-soothing hero-worship, make his acceptance at the Palace that much more difficult, or possibly even lead to another fight he couldn't win. Yes, that had to be it. Yet he couldn't avoid it, either.

 

"Er…I'd rather not have to tell you this, panda, but I'm afraid I won't be very welcome at this particular establishment."

 

"Why? What'd you do, stiff a check?" Po gave a snort of laughter.

 

"No." Tai Lung sighed. "Twenty years ago, it was one of the places I nearly destroyed during my rampage. And I almost killed the owner, too." There, he'd said it. But why had it been so hard to say? "So you can see why I'd not be on your father's favorite customer list."

 

For a shocking and rather disconcerting moment, Po remained absolutely silent, staring at the snow leopard with an inscrutable look on his placid, broad face. Tai Lung braced himself for a sudden attack—and instead, the panda threw back his head and laughed.

 

While the feline wondered if his companion had lost what little mind he had, Po chortled, "Is _that_ all? Okay, first of all, I already knew about that. You think my dad would've left that part out when he told me stories about ya? Second, so what? Between the two of us, you and I destroyed almost as many buildings when we fought—at least you didn't actually kill my dad, ya know? And last...that was twenty years ago. You think I'm gonna hold that against you now, after everything else ya did that I've been willing to forgive?"

 

Reaching over to slap a paw on a bemused Tai Lung's shoulder, he smiled fondly as he steered the feline down the road toward the noodle shop. "Don't worry, my dad ain't one to hold a grudge. And if there's some kinda issue at first, I'll smooth it over. You'll see."

 

Allowing himself to be guided, the snow leopard sighed and hung his head slightly. For the first time, he hoped Po's incurably positive mindset would prove to be correct...because he'd rather the first time reality and the panda came crashing headlong into each other wasn't when he himself was caught dead-center between them. And after the incident with Wei Chang, and Tigress's bitter snub, he didn't need another bad encounter today.

 

At first, the noodle shop met with his low expectations—not that it looked any worse for wear, or more rundown and poor, than any other of its competitors he'd been in over the years, in fact it was actually quite clean and well taken care of. It was the fact that everywhere he looked, from the narrow, crowded interior to the equally packed, lantern-lit courtyard, the patrons were all staring at him. The usual looks—hate, fear, resentment, anger—but also a new one, annoyance at him having invaded what they viewed as their private, personal space. Despite it being a public restaurant, the citizens of the Valley acted as if this had been their last bastion of hope, the one place they believed they could retreat without having to deal with his tainted legacy and threatening presence.

 

As he felt all the eyes upon him, and futilely wished for the hood of a cloak to hide behind, his thoughts flicked back to the daycare...and as he wondered what the people would do if they knew he'd been playing with their children, even with Tigress and later Po as a chaperone, he shivered.

 

However, the Dragon Warrior seemed to be right in at least one respect—for when the absentminded and rather ridiculous goose, Ping, scurried over to greet them personally and give Po as expansive an embrace as his small wingspan could manage around the panda's ample belly, at first he didn't even seem to recognize who Tai Lung was. Only when his erstwhile adversary very carefully, quietly, and even nervously introduced him did the noodle maker's vapid smile falter and his empty eyes display any wariness and distress.

 

But only for a moment. Almost immediately his expression cleared, and he chuckled as he fluttered a wing at the snow leopard, waving off his murderous past as if it were no worse a transgression than growing a mustache or wearing the wrong color to a wedding. As Tai Lung stared at him in bewilderment, Ping shook his head in amusement.

 

"Oh, what are you going on about, Po? You taught him a lesson, he isn't causing trouble for the Valley anymore, and that's that. What more do I need to know? Besides, any friend of yours is welcome here, my boy, you know that."

 

Then he rested his feathers on the feline's leg. "In any event, that was years ago, when my father ran the shop. And it needed remodeling anyway." Perking up, he turned around and bustled off across the courtyard. "This way, I have just the right seats for you!"

 

Tai Lung watched him go, glanced at Po (who looked far too smug for the leopard's liking), and shook his head too. _At least now I know where the panda gets it from. Everyone in this family is bloody crazy!_

 

He had to admit, however, that the goose knew what he was talking about. For after threading their way between countless rows of tables, which were jammed so close together that even Tai Lung had trouble squeezing through let alone the panda, the two warriors were brought to a booth in the far corner, out of the way of the main pedestrian traffic and hidden from the view of almost everyone by a giant potted palm.

 

Feeling far more relieved than he'd care to admit that he was no longer the scrutiny of public cynosure, the snow leopard settled down with a sigh into his seat and began peering at the menu. He couldn't resist the obvious dig, however. Leaning forward over the table, he muttered, "This is where you lived and worked? You're braver than I thought."

 

On the other side of the table, Po let his menu droop down to stare at him with a surprisingly flat look. "Didn't we already go through this, buddy? I ain't gonna put up with ya bad-mouthin' my dad, or his shop."

 

His expression faltered, and he glanced around evasively as if he expected Mr. Ping to pop out of hiding from behind the palm and overhear him. "Okay maybe it is a little too cramped for me, and maybe I was always dreamin' of kung fu…but I loved learnin' how to cook here, and I was pretty darn happy, too."

 

Tai Lung looked at him, nonplussed and, despite himself, impressed by the panda's loyalty. "My mistake. But for the record, it _was_ the lack of maneuvering capability I was talking about. Must have been a devil of a time delivering orders around here."

 

"You don't know the half of it," Po grumbled under his breath.

 

The next several minutes were spent, at least for the snow leopard, in uncomfortable silence, as both of them eyeballed their menus and the feline tried to think of something intelligent and worthwhile to say. Not that he felt a compulsion to fill the air with mindless chatter the way the panda seemed to, or even cared to learn about the bear's past and establish a friendly rapport with him. It was just that the long, extended silence between them was unnerving. Somehow, despite the background hum of the noodle shop patrons, Tai Lung was reminded unpleasantly of the endless quiet of Chorh-Gom.

 

Nothing came to mind, however. And as soon as he realized, from listening to Po mumble to himself, that he was not trying to choose his meal but simply marveling at the changes his father had made in the menu, Tai Lung rolled his eyes, then stabbed a finger down randomly to make his own selection: the Secret Ingredient Soup. _Well, why not? I like to live dangerously, and what's the worst that could happen? The panda swears by it, and he isn't dead yet._

 

Ping seemed to materialize out of nowhere to take their orders, and after both of them had chosen, as well as asked for beverages, the goose vanished again...once more leaving them staring at each other. The panda didn't seem any more sanguine with the arrangement than Tai Lung did, he could almost see the desperation in those bright green eyes as he sought something, anything, to break the ice between them. At last, Po said, "So...I heard about what happened today, and what you did."

 

How had he—of course, Shifu. The snow leopard sighed, then fixed his gaze pointedly on his companion. "And? Is that supposed to prove something, big guy? Like I told Shifu, I just did what felt right at the time. You're reading far too much meaning into it."

 

The Dragon Warrior didn't seem convinced, however—what else was new? Like everyone else around here, he thought he knew better what was truly in Tai Lung's heart and mind than the snow leopard himself did. "I dunno, Tai. I may not have your, uh, short fuse, but even I wouldn't've stood for what that guy was sayin' about ya, if it'd been me. Ya really...held it together up there. And ya showed him what for!" He grinned and smacked a fist into his other palm. "After what he said about Tigress, I would've loved to help ya knock the stuffings outta him!" He chuckled with a surprising bit of nastiness.

 

For a moment a surge of jealousy burned fiercely in Tai Lung's heart at the implication that the panda might care more deeply for the striped feline than was acceptable, and a growl began to rise dangerously in the back of his throat. But then as the rather preposterous idea of Po and Tigress hooking up together took form in his mind, and he recalled how often the leader of the Furious Five had cast aspersions and deprecating comments to cut the panda down to size, he swallowed his snarl and instead had to fight back a completely inappropriate burst of laughter.

 

Ludicrous! While she didn't loathe the Dragon Warrior on general principle as she seemed to do with him, Tigress was just as likely to deal a crushing blow to his 'tenders' if he even looked at her the wrong way. If anything, they were only friends, nothing more...and Po's rather admirable determination to protect her stemmed only from his hero worship for the Five.

 

"Well," the snow leopard at last managed to reply, "I suppose I did do all right at that." _Even if Tigress still barely knows I'm alive, and wishes I weren't._ "But as Master Wei proves...I still have such a long way to go before I can be accepted."

 

"Yeah...I heard what happened, down at the marketplace. Give 'em time, Tai Lung. Like you said, these things don't happen overnight." Po's eyes and voice both dropped.

 

At that moment Ping fluttered by with their drinks and then departed again. Po, it seemed, had ordered green chai tea which he flavored with milk and honey, while Tai Lung had of course insisted upon the strongest, richest, and purest black oolong the goose had available—the sort of bracing drink he had always preferred, one which he'd often declared 'put hair on your chest.'

 

For a long while the two warriors were silent again, enjoying their tea—the snow leopard in particular spent several minutes simply inhaling the steam and aroma from his cup, unable to get over how wonderful it was to have access to such relative luxuries again...they too were not available to him in prison. Then at last, the panda spoke up again—and his words both startled Tai Lung and made him narrow his eyes suspiciously at the abrupt change of subject.

 

"So...by the way, what happened that night after you came back to the palace? Tigress said ya went t' the peach tree to meditate. Did it help?"

 

Tai Lung could tell the Dragon Warrior was fishing, but for what, and for what purpose, he hadn't a clue. Did he suspect something unusual had happened? Tigress certainly hadn't—either her guard had still been raised high thanks to, well, standing guard over him, or despite all her advanced kung fu training she was the spiritual equivalent of a daikon radish. Or Oogway'd been concealing himself.

 

Regardless, it didn't matter—he wasn't about to tell Po about this, whatever reason the panda had for asking. The encounter and what came of it was intensely private to him, and he certainly didn't care to bare his heart and expose the realizations he'd come to about his own shortcomings and mistakes.

 

"Yes," he said, succinctly. "As to what happened, nothing did. Why should you think otherwise?"

 

"Are you sure?" Po frowned. "You sure seemed...distant, when ya got back to the bunkhouse. Like ya went someplace else entirely."

_Yes, to get away from you!_ Biting his tongue, Tai Lung crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair huffily. "None of your bloody business."

 

"Okay, okay, don't get your fur ruffled!" The panda held up both paws soothingly.

 

Tai Lung was considering showing him just how ruffled it could get, as well as an extreme close-up of his fist, when their food arrived—something of a surprise, since they'd only been seated for about fifteen or twenty minutes, and he was certain other patrons who'd been there longer hadn't yet been served. Apparently, he thought a bit smugly, it paid to be with family of the owner. He also had to admit that the bowl of soup placed before him smelled absolutely delicious. Whatever other faults the panda and his adopted father had, their skill in cooking was no lie.

 

Only after he had stood by for several annoying moments, wringing his feathers and waiting until he heard the food met with Tai Lung's approval, did Ping finally vacate the premises and go to see to his other clientele. Even after the goose had left, though, the snow leopard quite thoroughly continued to enjoy his dish, since the Secret Ingredient Soup was in fact one of the best things he'd ever tasted.

 

He also noted, wryly, that it seemed virtually identical to the noodle dish Po had brought him in his cell, over a week and a half ago, despite the fact the panda claimed he didn't know the secret ingredient. Considering what he'd told him during their final battle, he rather suspected this was a pose to keep from ruining Ping's reputation, but he chose to humor Po.

 

When the snow leopard had drained over half of his bowl and his stomach finally stopped complaining so bitterly, he at last looked up to catch the Dragon Warrior staring at him, an intent and nervous look on his face while he stirred his spoon around idly. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he leaned across the table and fixed Po with a steely gaze. "All right, what is it? I know you have something on your mind, panda, so why don't you just spit it out and get it over with? The worst I can do is refuse to answer you."

 

For several more moments the panda studied his soup bowl as if it held all the answers he sought. Then, sighing, he reached down to the waistband of his pants and produced, once again, the crimson and gold Dragon Scroll. Tai Lung was beginning to wonder if he carried it everywhere with him—not that he blamed him, if he'd ever been granted it, he wouldn't have let it out of his sight either, though for a very different reason. "I was just wonderin'...y'know...that day, when we fought. There's somethin' I don't understand. After I told ya what the scroll really meant...why'd ya keep fightin' me? Why didn't ya stop, once ya knew it wasn't gonna give ya any special powers?"

 

So that was it. And here he'd thought the Dragon Warrior simply suffered from an inability to stay quiet. Something which would have been even more infuriating than it was, if Tai Lung hadn't had his fill of silence and solitude in prison. Right now, he'd put up with the inane panda if the alternative was to listen to the taunts and nasty chuckles of Vachir's rhinos...or to be utterly alone for the rest of his life. Once, he'd believed himself aloof from others, beyond the petty emotional concerns of the rest of the world. But now…whatever happened, the snow leopard did not wish to be alone, ever again.

 

Leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms and sighed. "I wondered when you'd get around to asking me that." When Po, of course, showed no signs of dropping the matter, only continuing to peer at him beseechingly, Tai Lung was the one to lower his gaze to his plate and not raise it. This would be extraordinarily difficult to say...but he had to do it, for his own peace of mind as well as to shut the bear up. "I thought it would be obvious, panda. I didn't listen to you, because I didn't want to believe you."

 

"Because then you'd have to accept you'd been fixated on somethin' that wasn't gonna magically make you the best?" Po asked shrewdly. Again, he had to remind himself not to underestimate the panda's intelligence just because of his buffoonish exterior.

 

"Only partly." He hesitated, then reached across the table to rest his paw on the Dragon Scroll. "May I?" By contrast, Po didn't hesitate even a second, simply handing the artifact over without question. For an absurd moment the snow leopard fleetingly wondered if this was how he could have won the scroll during their battle—if he'd simply said 'please.'

 

Shaking the thought aside, he held up the metallic casing without opening it, instead running his finger gently along the hanzi characters inscribed on it...something which, to be fair, he hadn't exactly had time to notice let alone read during the battle, what with the inordinate number of times it had changed paws. But even when there'd been a lull, after smashing Po into a crater, when he had at last removed the scroll to read it, he'd been so eager to obtain the vast secrets within he hadn't even bothered to look at it closely.

 

And now it was all so very clear. Softly, bitterly, but also wryly, he read the words aloud: "The greatest power in the universe lies within." _Oogway, you mad genius. Even after eighteen years studying with you, I still didn't know how to think like you when it counted. Are you laughing at me now? Ha very ha._

 

Looking at Po again, who unsurprisingly was gazing at him sympathetically, he placed the scroll softly on the table, as if it were an ancestor tablet, and then placed both paws on the table edge. He was shocked, and rather displeased, to find they were shaking. "That's why, panda. Because when you told me that there was no secret, that I only had to look inside myself to find the power I wanted...I just couldn't do that."

 

"Why?"

 

It was a simple question, with a fiendishly difficult answer. "Because...I was afraid."

 

The panda, who'd taken the opportunity afforded by his long pause to take another drink, almost choked on his tea before spraying the table. "What? _You_? But you're Tai Lung, you're not scared of anything!"

_I used to think that too_ , he thought ruefully. _And that was half the problem_.

 

"Honestly? I may have built up a legend as this unstoppable, unfeeling juggernaut...but I'm as human as anyone else." And what a letdown it was to admit that. Not because he naturally believed himself superior (although he did), but because he'd spent all the years of his training trying to convince himself as well as everyone else that he was something better, greater...because he'd thought that was the only way to make Shifu proud of him.

 

"I didn't want to look inside myself, to find whatever powers I already had, because...I was afraid of what I would find. I'd turned myself into a monster in pursuit of my goal...if I truly looked at myself, I knew, secretly, what I would see. And anyway...I didn't believe there was anything there to find."

 

"What do you mean?" Po looked even more distraught. "We've been through this too, you got a lotta special abilities."

 

Tai Lung shook his head. "Yes, but that's not what I thought I would see. Oogway denied me the scroll, he didn't believe in me...at least, I thought he didn't." These last words he said so softly he hoped the panda couldn't hear them. "Shifu wouldn't stand by me. And the villagers...well, I've done this song and dance already. I was an orphan, and worthless in their eyes. How could I draw upon my ancestry for strength, or find honor in where I came from, if I didn't _know_ where I came from? I had no past, and without the scroll, no future. I thought..."

 

He swallowed hard. Why was he telling the panda this? Could he actually be coming to trust the fat fool? Or...had this been inside him for so long, he simply had to tell someone, anyone?

 

"I thought that no one believed in me, so I didn't either. So when you told me there was no power in the scroll...that the only place I could look to achieve greatness was inside me...where I was convinced there was nothing by itself that was worth trusting in..." His voice broke, as once again he could see himself in his mind's eye, staring in anguish and helpless loss at the Dragon Scroll, and his reflection in it—'It's nothing!' he'd cried, and it hadn't just been the artifact that he meant...

 

"Oh, Tai," Po breathed. He sounded as if he was going to cry, and from the way he squirmed in his seat and twitched his arms, he probably wanted to leap up and give the snow leopard a crushing hug, too. Tai Lung was very glad of the table between them—because if the panda had attempted such a public display of affection, then witnesses or no witnesses, father or no father, he would have punched Po's lights out.

 

By contrast the snow leopard was not on the verge of tears, and not only because he viewed such a thing as unmanly. It was because facing the truth about himself didn't fill him with sorrow or pain…it made him numb. He didn't feel anything. Perhaps that, too, was part of the problem.

 

After several long, uncertain moments, the panda finally found the courage, and the strength of voice, to speak. "I...I think I see what you're sayin'. I know how important it is to know who your ancestors are, and do honor by them. We got a festival comin' up tomorrow to remind us, if we ever forget. But y'know sometimes, I think people focus on that stuff way too much. No disrespect to the gods, or to the village elders, but...there's a _lot_ more to who somebody is than who they're related to.

 

"I mean look at me! I don't know who my real parents are either. Do I think about it sometimes, and wonder? Sure. Does it hurt, not knowin'? You bet. But that doesn't mean I can forget who and what's right in front of me. I got my dad...and if not for him, I wouldn't know how to be such a good cook. I just plain wouldn't be the guy I am today.

 

"Same's true for you, Tai Lung. You and everyone else can argue whether this is a good thing or not, whether what you became is even worth honorin', but the fact is, you're who you are because of Master Shifu. The bad, and the good. And what he raised you to be is one of the strongest guys I've ever met. And I don't mean your muscles. You've been through more pain and suffering than anyone I know—and you survived it. I don't think I could've done that. So maybe you better think again, before you start decidin' there's nothin' inside you to make you a great warrior."

 

Tai Lung could hear his own breath rasping in his ears in the long silence which followed this testimonial. It wasn't the words he said, or the sentiment he expressed—he'd known for some time Po felt this way about him, and if he had to be honest he could admit he knew most of these things were true. Even if he didn't believe they mattered, or were enough.

 

What struck him was the change in the panda's demeanor. He was, in essence, still being a fan boy...but instead of the excitable, bubbly, eagerly infectious one of the past week and a half, now he showed seriousness, sincerity, and faith like never before. And unlike that day in his cell, when he'd still been seething with anger and hatred, now he could hear it, and see it, in a whole new light.

 

Even as he was struggling to accept this, and what it might mean for the new direction his life was taking, Po spoke again, chuckling a little. "Reminds me of somethin' Oogway said to me, the last time I saw him. 'Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That's why they call it the present.'"

 

The snow leopard groaned under his breath and placed his head in his paw. "That sounds like him, all right."

 

"I know, I know, it's hokey and corny. But it's also true. I've taken it to heart, when I realized I had to stop second-guessin' myself and focus on the here and now. Maybe you should too."

 

There was really nothing which could be said to that, for or against it, and so Tai Lung allowed the silence to stretch out interminably while he and the panda quietly finished their meal. But the entire time they were eating, he found himself literally looking at Po differently. The panda had been his enemy. He'd hurt him, both physically and emotionally, in ways no one else ever had before. But here he was, talking to him, caring about him, listening to him.

 

Even though Shifu had been his father, the red panda had never treated him like this. Oogway had been far too distant and unapproachable. There had been no one, not a single person in the Valley, who had treated him like a person. Before his rampage, he had only been a trainee, a student, the hopeful Dragon Warrior-to-be, a weapon being honed for the defense of the Valley but otherwise kept safely in its sheath, ignored until it was needed. After he'd gone mad, of course, everyone had seen him as only a vicious, heartless animal—never mind that he'd promoted that view, inadvertently, and then later embraced it.

 

But Po didn't do that. Why, he couldn't understand. But for whatever reason, whatever made the panda different, he was showing Tai Lung the one thing he'd never received, something he had no idea how to cope with.

 

Compassion.

 

When the meal was finally over, and evening had almost fully descended into night, the time finally came to pick up the check. After everything that had been said, Tai Lung somehow felt obligated to pay, but although Shifu had promised him a resumption of the allowance he had once received, he had not as yet gotten around to instating it. So unfortunately Po was the one who had to reach for his cash string. But of course, Mr. Ping wouldn't hear of it, insisting that their meal was on the house.

 

Out in the streets, all was quiet and peaceful, the only sounds being the wind whining between the houses, carrying distant voices and laughter—most everyone was still enjoying their dinner or else resting and preparing for the big day tomorrow. This only suited Tai Lung all too well, as right now he couldn't deal with any more ill will and rejection…and privately, he didn't want anything to disturb the companionable silence he shared with Po.

 

Naturally, something did...although it wasn't onerous, nor at all what he expected. For as they came around a corner into a narrow alley which Po swore was a shortcut back to the Jade Mountain—which Tai Lung could hardly refute since it had been twenty years since he'd been in the village and much had changed in that time—the snow leopard suddenly spied a flash of movement ahead of them.

 

For a moment he tensed instinctively, as the motion was so fast and stealthy he was certain it was some miscreant, whether robber or otherwise, intending to waylay them and cause trouble. But then, as he saw the darting form again, he realized it was far too small to be an adult. Not that that precluded it from being a thief, some urchins started young indeed down the path of iniquity, and even they could be dangerous in their way. But it certainly made it less cause for alarm.

 

Shushing Po, who had begun to hum happily to himself again, Tai Lung crept forward on absolutely silent paws, not even disturbing a grain of sand between the cobblestones as he followed the little form ahead of him. Just when he was certain he'd either been imagining things or the unknown child had fled, and just when he was almost out of eyesight of the panda, he finally saw his target...and he froze in place, puzzled and confused by what he saw.

 

Right beside him, alongside yet another rippling tributary of the Valley's mighty river, stood a house like any other in the village, although it had a surprisingly sumptuous and verdant garden plot adjoining it. It wasn't the beauty of the blooms hanging in the shadows, softly glowing in the light of the emerging stars, or the rich scents wafting to him on the breeze, or even the nightingales calling from the tree branches that drew his attention, however. For there, leaning over one of the flower beds and seemingly searching for something, was the child he'd been pursuing.

 

A snow leopard cub.

 

That in itself was startling and unbelievable—there were no snow leopards in the Valley of Peace, hadn't been for decades even before his birth, part of the reason his discovery on the Jade Palace doorstep had caused such a stir and sensation. His people, from what he had learned over the years, were a very reclusive and secretive lot, known for being closed-mouthed, distant, and standoffish—not prone to great displays of emotion or for trusting easily. _Where have I heard that before? Has a definite ring of familiarity to it..._

 

They also didn't travel much outside their mountain homes—which, while it had always begged the question of why and how he had ended up in the Valley of Peace, also made it nearly impossible for another snow leopard to be here now. Especially a cub, and all alone.

 

But when the cub at last found what it was looking for and turned back around to face him—looking unerringly up into his face as if it'd known he was there all along—he received an entirely new shock. For the cub was a spitting image of himself at that age, right down to the black markings on ears and face, and the warm golden eyes.

 

Slowly, unhurriedly, the cub wended his way out of the garden and crossed the bridge over the river again, coming straight for him as if drawn by a magnet. The closer he came, the more uneasy and distressed Tai Lung became—because as each detail grew clearer and easier to discern, the more he found himself coming to an incredible conclusion. The cub didn't just look like him; it was him. How that could be, he gave up trying to figure out, but even assuming that by some wild coincidence another snow leopard cub could be in the Valley and have similar markings and coloring to him, there were far too many exact matches to leave any doubt.

 

Not to mention the way he walked, how he carried himself—even at that age, he'd exuded confidence and strutted about as if he owned the training hall and the Jade Palace, though in a way far more adorable than when he'd later done so as an adult. Even his clothes were the same. What was going on?

 

The cub reached his side and stopped, staring up at him calmly, expectantly. Fighting the weird sense of doubling, he stared down into eyes the same as his...only untainted by pain and loss, still filled with the wide, unabashed innocence he had lost so long ago—when, he still wasn't sure. He shuddered...and yet he felt his heart going out to—himself. Inexplicably, he wished he could trade places, get back what had been stripped from him.

 

Suddenly, the cub smiled—eyes dancing, fat cheeks dimpling, ears pricking attentively. And then he reached up, standing on tiptoes as he held something out to Tai Lung.

 

It was a flower, picked from the garden no doubt. Nothing special, an orchid like hundreds of others which grew in the Valley, albeit a beautiful specimen. What was more remarkable was that, as he took it he discovered it was real and solid—how could a ghost of his past, or a figment of his imagination, hand him something?—and that as it changed hands something else seemed to pass between them. What, he couldn't say. A memory, an understanding, a forgotten truth, he didn't know. Whatever it was, it shook him...but it also reassured him.

 

"What's this for?" he managed to whisper hoarsely. The cub only kept smiling at him, knowing a secret he wasn't telling.

 

"Hey! Tai, what's goin' on?"

 

The Dragon Warrior's sudden shout seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over him. As if emerging from a cold mountain lake's waters, he gasped and turned away, glancing down the street to see Po racing toward him, panting and gasping as he clutched at a stitch in his side—he'd had no idea he ran so far or so fast.

 

When the panda reached him at last, he stopped, bent over for a few moments, and then looked up with the same sort of puzzled look Tai Lung was sure he'd been wearing a few moments ago. "Don't run off like that, buddy, you know I can't keep up with ya. I gotta get you back to the Palace before anyone jumps to the wrong conclusion or somethin'..." He looked around. "So what made ya dash off like that?"

 

Tai Lung held up the flower, gestured with it as he indicated the house and garden, the street, and the cobblestones where the snow leopard cub stood watching him intently. "I saw...someone. And when I got here, I found...well, you wouldn't believe...d'you see...?"

 

He stopped. For in the instant he'd turned away to look at Po's curious face, the cub had vanished as if he'd never been. They were alone in the street, with only the wind whipping their fur to create any movement. And the evening mists settling down over the valley, of course.

 

"See what, Tai? I didn't see anythin'..." He did, however, notice the orchid in the snow leopard's hand. "Hey, where'd you get that? It's beautiful. You should give it to Tigress."

 

"I don't know," he said, answering both of Po's questions. "Maybe I will." Was he losing his mind? Had all their talk of the past, of not knowing who he was or where he came from, of not believing in himself because he thought no one else had, made him imagine a visit from his cubhood self, to remind him of whom he had once been?

 

Or...could it have truly been more? The legends did say that the day of the Ghost Festival, which was tomorrow, was a time when the boundary between light and dark, and life and death, became fuzzed and more diffuse...something which he had never put much stock in. Now, however...

 

Shaking himself, he turned away to follow Po slowly back toward the Jade Palace—but he still held the flower gently in his paw. What he did know was that, however much he longed to deny it, how he still fought against it kicking and screaming...he was beginning to care for the panda. And, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he found himself wanting, even needing, his friendship with a fierceness that was daunting.

_I **must** be out of my mind._

                                                                      

* * *

 

At the same time, miles to the east...but not very far away at all, as the soul flies...another tall figure loomed out of the shadows as he contemplated something hidden from his sight. But rather than doubting his own sanity, or coming face to face with deep, inner truths which could well help his battered heart to heal, he instead only kept his eyes closed, reaching out with every sense—including those hidden to most people, those which allowed him to understand (and manipulate) the essence of anyone's spirit—to get a fixed reading of his surroundings.

 

He stood upon a vast, barren plain of dry, cracked soil and bone-scouring sand, alkaline flats that had once been a scintillating lake centuries ago but which had dried up for reasons unknown and immaterial. Before him, across the flat, featureless land, beneath the sky of racing stratus backlit by gold and orange as the setting sun ignited the clouds with a weird fiery glow, a wrecked and battered ship loomed...left abandoned and ruined after the waters which had once borne it had deposited it there.

 

The type of craft known as a junk—a designation he found all too apropos—its ragged, crimson sails now hanging tattered and rotting from the leaning masts, its rigging swinging and dangling in the fitful breeze, the ship was no longer seaworthy—in a sense, it no longer had a life anymore, its days of mercantilism and travel long past. A hollow thing, bereft of meaning, crumbling and forgotten by most of the world, a remnant which would in time collapse and dissolve into nothing…as transient as everything and everyone who had not embraced his power. A relic, a corpse, a dusty shell masquerading as a place.

 

In many ways, he felt a certain kinship for it.

 

Of course, until such time as it did give up the ghost and tumble into the void of entropy, it still existed, and there were those among the living who made use of it. The gangway, in fact, had been ripped free of its housing and set up as a ramp, angling up from the sand to a gaping hole in the ship's stern—whether the cause of the ship's ignominious sinking or having formed since it began to succumb to the forces of nature, he knew and cared not.

 

And both this massive opening, as well as the portholes running below the gunwales, were lit by the unmistakable, cheerily flickering orange of lamp and firelight. Sounds, too, drifted to him on the wind—glasses clinking, raucous laughter, off-key singing, and something which tried to pass itself off as music.

 

 

The ship had been transformed into what was known in common parlance as a dive—a tavern of the lowest sort, populated by ilk he would normally never even deign to notice, let alone dare to associate with even for brief instances. Ruffians, cutthroats, murderous scum and ruthless mercenaries that would help the Emperor drive off invading barbarians, only to then turn around and slaughter the entire royal family if the price was right. Known as the Bandit Inn (though that was of course not its true name), it was frequented by the castoffs and rejects of society...those who, like him, preyed off of others regardless of their legitimate place in the food chain, those who plotted and schemed, stole and cheated, and otherwise haunted the outskirts of civilization.

 

If he could, he would avoid them—not because he was bothered by their activities and immoral manner of living, in fact he rather approved, but because their methods were so...petty. Beneath him. No sense of style or subtlety about them at all. Utterly crass and detestable. Not to mention they believed themselves the vilest and basest of beings, cruel and venal beyond all others...yet if they knew him for what he was, what he could do, and what he had become by his own choice, they would flee screaming and gibbering in terror.

 

He almost wished he could reveal himself to incite such a riot. But he had better things to do with his time than toy with these lesser beings, no matter how amusing and enjoyable it might be. And he also didn't wish to advertise, as yet, that his presence once more was free to stalk the land. He doubted anyone would know of him, let alone the full truth, now that Oogway was gone. But you could never be too careful, and his plans were far too delicate, and too critical, to leave to the whims of chance.

 

His wandering thoughts suddenly snapped alert, and he opened his eyes with a twisted smile as his mind brushed the thoughts of those he sought. No different, really, from those of any others in the bar, save perhaps for how much more regimented and confident they were—not the cockiness and bravado of the other thieves, but the surety of ones who knew they truly held the upper hand and could take or leave the lives of all around them at their fancy.

 

But he knew them just the same. They had a...flavor to them which he found particularly delicious. Not only the dark emotions they themselves indulged in, but due to their line of work. Death was their gift which they brought to others, and it spread in such ample and prolific degree from their paws that they were steeped in it, draped themselves in it as much as they did the cloaks they typically wore...it had corrupted their _chi_ as much as any others he had ever encountered.

 

Best of all, of course, was the wry amusement and detachment they seemed to feel for the world around them, as if they knew it was all really just a great game which they had mastered long ago. They saw the world as he did. They had been useful to him in the past...and now they would be again.

 

Nodding to himself, he focused his will and gathered the shadows close about him, drawing them from the earth, the air, even the few pathetic plants and animals which struggled to eke out a life here, until they formed into a pitch black cloak which shrouded him close, concealing almost all details of his appearance and identity. He did this not out of ostentation but because it was necessary. Upon leaving Chorh-Gom, he had been successful in locating his chosen vessel, but the creature was obdurate and stubborn, his will much stronger than expected—as yet, his control was not sufficient to trust himself to the fellow's body at all, let alone in the outer world.

 

So it had been left in a place of safety, there to be subjected to the delightful process of further breaking, and he had come here alone instead. Besides, the one he had found had a certain notoriety among the people, he would be recognized—that could not be allowed until it no longer mattered whether the game was given away. And the fellow was not the sort who would ever be found at the Bandit Inn. There would be questions. Nothing he could not handle, but it would be...vexing. A bit of unpleasantness he would rather avoid.

 

Abruptly, with purposeful and determined steps, he strode across the waste to the towering junk, allowing the light to bathe his figure despite how this lessened his power to an extent. Regrettable, but it could not be helped, and it would hardly be for long. Soon enough he had crossed the threshold and stood staring down into the interior of the ship. In what had once been the hold, at the foot of the companionway, a large space had been cleared so that a circular stage of sorts could be built—a broad, metal ring containing an expanse of smoothed out sand, surrounded by guttering torches set upon high poles, their greasy black smoke rising into the sails and tarps which hung from the ceiling.

 

There, a crocodile and a wolf were duking it out in a rather primitive battle arena, using their claws and fangs rather than any weapons to slash, bite, and tear into each other indiscriminately. Meanwhile, like a theater in the round, a series of scarred wooden tables with spindly chairs had been scattered all around the stage, and at each sat more of the disreputable bandits, nursing or guzzling their alcoholic drinks while they alternately cheered and booed the combatants, or simply observed silently. He spied a gorilla, a rhinoceros, what looked like a panther, and some other canine type he couldn't identify before he bothered to notice anymore.

 

 

As he entered, he only had eyes for one table on the far side of the hold—and as he fixed his gaze upon it, a sudden chill seemed to descend over the room, one that none within it could fail to feel. Several cutthroats drew cloaks close in a futile effort to ward it away, while others looked up to the entrance to see if a bitter wind had blown in...and as they spied him, all as one trembled visibly. Many a battle-hardened killer cowered, shrank back, or averted their faces from him, and still others seemed ready to soil themselves just from sensing his taint in the air.

 

The crocodile and wolf ceased their fighting at once, stumbling and leaping out of the arena circle so quickly they almost toppled the torches and ignited the whole ship—yet none of the patrons who had previously been so enthusiastic about the show seemed willing to lodge a protest. In point of fact, the murmur of conversation nearly died out completely, leaving the tavern in a pregnant and oppressive silence.

 

In an aside, he was pleased to know he still had such an effect, that he had not lost his touch with the gullible, the weak-minded, and the easily misled. But these reactions were truly of no moment to him. All that mattered was the three he had come to see.

 

He glided down the companionway from the overlooking balcony, aware and yet not aware of so many eyes upon him, sliding over and away from him, struggling to ignore his baleful presence, and with each step he took into the belly of the ship, his servants—for such they were, though they amusingly believed themselves to be free agents—became clearer and more identifiable, for all that they too were clad in dark, concealing cloaks.

 

Slim and slender, they somehow combined idle laziness with a constant and dangerous tension ready to explode into action at any given moment—though they seemed to be ignorant of his arrival, and to not even observe the other patrons, he knew better than to trust appearances. They marked everything and everyone, were aware of even the tiniest of movements, and would be ready to take out anyone who came too close or even twitched a hand toward a weapon. Swift, surgical, and deadly—and lovely too, if he cared to notice such things anymore. Which he did not, though he would make use of it if it suited him.

 

One of them had a pair of bone dice she rolled and rattled on the tabletop, the sound an eerie counterpoint to the stillness of the junk. The second held her war fan close to her chest and seemed mesmerized by the way the firelight glinted off its metal ribbing and razor-sharp blades whenever she slid it open and closed, which was frequently. And the third, incongruously, was erecting some sort of intricate structure out of mahjong tiles.

 

Finally, he reached their table...paused...and without invitation proffered or words spoken, sat down in the only empty chair across from them—almost as if it had been left there purposefully, as if they had known he was coming. Behind him, some of the sounds of the tavern resumed—though still greatly muted—as people let out the breaths they'd been holding, shuddered, and slid their chairs (and tables) as far from him as possible.

 

"Well, well, well." The fan-wielding figure was the first to speak, her tone of voice as bored and disinterested as always. "Look who decided to crawl out from under his rock."

 

The dice fell from the fingers of the first figure again, coming to a stop on the tabletop before being scooped up without her even having looked to see what number she had rolled. "Maybe he should have stayed there." Her voice, by contrast, was a throaty purr of cunning and cleverness.

 

Looking up from her tower-building, the last of the three smiled brightly at him, something most would have to be insane to consider doing. Her expression matched her voice, which had an odd, accented lilt to it. "We thought we'd never see you again!" It was left as an exercise of logic whether those seemingly sweet words of greeting had actually been meant as a threat or not, or at least a fervent hope.

 

The seconds ticked by as he regarded them in a mix of disdain and admiration—though of course they refused to be intimidated, and neither retreated from him, begged his pardon, nor showed any discomfort at all. Then at last, he spoke, his voice as rich, sepulchral, and yes seductive, as it had always been, even after so many years of disuse. "Greetings to you as well, ladies. My lethal lovelies."

 

" _Yours_?" the one with the dice said archly. "You presume much."

 

"Oh, but he's so _charming_ about it, isn't he?" the bubbly one cried, clapping her paws together delightedly—in the process revealing the thick, silvery-gray, rosette-dotted pelt that covered them. "Don't you just love to hear him talk?"

 

"Ask me if I care." The fan snapped shut with a _shrrik_ , only to spread open again in the blink of an eye.

 

Utterly ignoring the bantering byplay, he leaned forward, fixing his gaze on them intently—although all they could see was the darkness within his hood. "I knew I would find you here. Evil always seeks out its own...and corruption the lowest point it can find."

 

A pattern of fire-breathing dragons was unveiled before his eyes, as the fan flipped across her face, leaving only her glowing green eyes exposed above it. "Ouch. Was that supposed to be a compliment? If so, no lychee nuts for you."

 

"I don't know, sister," the sweet-voiced one said, with surprising thoughtfulness. "I think he managed to combine a compliment _and_ an insult in one. That takes talent."

 

The dice came to a stop, and suddenly a dagger stood between them, twirling slowly between her fingers. "I'm sorry, but was there supposed to be a point to this?"

 

Whether or not that pun had been intentional, her sister smiled at her faintly, closing her fan once more. "Hmm, I always knew you were on the cutting edge."

 

Giggling, the last sister rested her chin on her clasped paws. "Any way you slice it, we're the best!" And all three dissolved into laughter.

 

Very slowly, he closed his eyes and fought down the rising urge to drain someone—anyone—in the room dry. As long as he had known them, the three had been tricksters, playful and taunting as much as they were serious and focused. If he hadn't needed them so badly, he would have severed all ties with them long ago—and if they weren't absolutely right about being the best at what they did. Spies, ninjas, manipulatrixes of the highest caliber. And their greatest and most skillful calling...assassins. Yes, that was the Wu Sisters.

 

 

"If you're quite through," he interrupted, "I have a proposition for you."

 

"Oooo!" Wu Jia, the bright and bouncy sister who was also the youngest, perked up considerably. "Those are always fun! We've missed them, haven't we, sisters?"

 

"Be still, my quaking heart," Wu Chun, the middle sister, said flatly. "Can I stand the anticipation?"

 

"Quiet!" Wu Xiu, the eldest, hissed, spearing her dagger into the tabletop. "I want to hear this. You know very well he never comes to us unless he believes it worth our while. Unless he _makes_ it worth our while." She shifted her gaze back to him, the dice cupped tightly in her paw, and her expression, from what he could read of it, became highly suggestive.

 

But he didn't take the hint, although not because he hoped to haggle for a better price; he wished to impress upon them the gravity of the mission before such banal trivialities took over the conversation. And if they knew ahead of time just how much he intended to offer them, they might well accept without thinking things through. What he had in mind for them played right into their strengths and was challenging indeed...perhaps too much so.

 

Not that he particularly cared if something unfortunate were to befall them—as long as it happened _after_ they had fulfilled their part of the bargain. Ensuring they understood, however, would guarantee they'd be on their guard and ready to bring their finest talents down to their sharpest focus.

 

"Firstly," he said at last, with a sibilant whisper, "I would have you know that the...impediments I have referred to before are no longer an issue. So you will be seeing much more of me from now on...and I will in turn be able to offer you greater rewards, and protections, as you carry out increasingly dangerous, and critical, missions for me."

 

For a moment he saw a flicker of something—fear? Worry? Disquiet?—flash across Wu Jia's face, but then she was all smiles again. "Well, that sounds like good news to me! You've always given us the most _interesting_ commissions, we never know what to expect—do we?"

 

"Mmm. The best news, yes." Wu Xiu narrowed her eyes calculatingly. "And it's the unexpected that just gives life that certain zest. But why don't you quit beating around the bush and get on with it already? Time is money, ours is precious to us, and we do have other clients interested in our...services."

 

He smiled sardonically. "But none who can give you what I promise."

 

Wu Chun snorted. "What, empty shadows and a headache?"

 

"No." He drew the word out, lingering with relish upon it, then lowered his voice even further in depth and softness, glancing at each of them in turn, from youngest to eldest. "Immortality. The Deathstrike. And soul knowledge. You know it, and I know it."

 

The prettiest and most sweet-natured of the sisters was also rather shallow and vain, and would dearly love to preserve her youthful beauty for all time. The mistress of the war fan keenly yearned to obtain the secret of the deadliest kung fu move ever devised, aside from the Wuxi Finger Hold—a single finger flick without nearly the catastrophic and destructive results, as it literally caused instant death in whoever it struck, and without the extended bodily tremors found in other martial arts.

 

And as for Wu Xiu...the coldest and blackest Wu Sister of them all, the one whose soul was most like his own...she wished, above all things, to know the secrets of life itself. To be able to control _chi_ as he did, to have power over whomever she wished, whenever she wished...to see into their hearts and learn truths they would otherwise never confess, to compel obedience that no drug or blackmail ever could, and when the time was right, to draw their souls from their bodies without even having to lift a finger. In short, she wanted to be Mistress Death.

 

He knew this, he had always known this, and they knew he knew. Everyone knew. It was a little game they liked to play, pretending they served him only because their goals coincided or because he paid them so handsomely, pretending he had to come to them begging favors and that his desires were met only at their sufferance, when it was all truly the reverse. He indulged it because he did enjoy the looks on their faces as they contemplated so openly and wantonly the things they coveted, and because once it was gotten out of the way, they could get down to cases.

 

When he felt enough time had passed, he continued. "The offer I make to you this night is not without risk, but the reward is indeed commensurate. I must know, however: are you capable of operating within the Valley of Peace? Is there a bounty on your heads there which would prevent you from revealing yourselves?"

 

Wu Chun smirked. "No more than anywhere else. We're listening."

 

Though they could not see it, he smirked as well—as usual, they were falling oh so willingly under his influence. "Good." Very carefully, then, he proceeded to outline just what he wished of them. Predictably, there was a certain resistance on their part—in fact they balked outright.

 

"We're good, but we're not _that_ good," Wu Jia exclaimed, showing more worry and distress than he'd ever seen from her. "You really expect us to do that? And face the Five, too?"

 

Feeling a trifle impatient, he forced his voice to remain calm. "Yes, and I have every confidence you can achieve this, as you have every other request I have made of you, or else I would not be here. As to how you can do so with so many forces arrayed against you, I trust I do not have to tell you how to do your job. But I will say this: divide and conquer."

 

Lips pursed, Wu Chun nodded slowly. "It could work, at that. But if we are to do this, we're going to need...insurance. Much more than usual."

 

Without even deigning to answer them with words, he reached within the folds of his cloak, produced a leather pouch, and tossed it nonchalantly on the table. The sound of clinking metal from within was loud in the stillness, and the bag was so near to bursting that the seams looked in danger of splitting—in fact some of the coins spilled out of the mouth, each circle with the square cut out of the middle gleaming in the torchlight. "That's five hundred yuan. Feel free to count it."

 

The three snow leopards blinked, with even Wu Xiu looking startled, and then she swiftly reached a paw over to cup the money and its bag close, to conceal it from the other untrustworthy patrons of the Bandit Inn. Before she could begin tallying it up, however, he spoke again, offhandedly.

 

"And there will be another five hundred, after you are successful."

 

Even Wu Chun gasped at this. But her elder sister merely looked at him cagily, one sweeping black eyebrow upraised. "My, my. If I didn't know our skills, I'd think you were overpaying us."

 

Wu Jia's eyes goggled, and she looked back and forth between him, the bag on the table, and her sisters. "Is that five hundred for _each_ of us?" Wu Chun hurriedly swatted her with her fan and hushed her, muttering about not souring the negotiations.

 

"You need not worry about me, I have plenty more where that came from." Which was true; whether through mental manipulation, possessing the right officials and merchants, or outright bribery through corrupting their _chi_ or otherwise influencing political figures, he could obtain funds whenever he wished, in whatever quantity needed. Worldly goods and riches mattered not to him anymore, if they ever had, but he knew how to play the game for those greedy fools still drawn in by it. "And money is no object, when it comes to achieving what I have been working toward for so very long."

 

"And what would that be?" The narrow muzzle of Wu Xiu lifted from the folds of her hood, exposing the snow leopard's face fully to the light for the first time. "You never would tell us."

 

"All in due time, my dear. You will learn everything in the end, when I am ready to reveal it. But not now, and not here. There are too many eyes to see and ears to hear. Return to the place where we first met, and I will there explain exactly what I have in mind."

 

The snow leopard grunted noncommittally, obviously displeased with his answer, but that was the best she was getting and she knew it. In fact she was lucky she'd gotten that much, and that he had left her alive and with a will of her own, after she had the temerity to pry into his affairs so bluntly.

 

"If you have no other questions, then that will be all. There will be further instructions later on, depending on how matters go in the Valley, but for now I believe you know what to do." He paused, then his voice hardened as he skewered each of them with a blazing, vicious glare, one they could feel even if they could not see his eyes. "And remember, I cannot stress this enough: you are _not_ to harm, or kill, Tai Lung unless we are left with no other recourse, and I give my permission. Do you understand?"

 

"Yes, yes," Wu Xiu muttered irritably. "Paws off the snow leopard. More's the pity."

 

"Yeah, it's a shame, really," Wu Jia said archly, her eyes twinkling with lust. "I'd love to have him all to myself—bet I could make that pussycat roar. We're pretty rare, you know, and I've never seen one as hunky as he is!"

 

The eldest of the sisters rolled her eyes and growled, while Wu Jia giggled naughtily. Even her middle sister got in on the act, as after twitching the corner of her mouth into a tiny smile, she said, "Don't worry, we'll keep her well away from him. Wouldn't want to interfere with your own plans to have the stud all to yourself."

 

Now all of them except Wu Xiu were laughing, while he glared at them, even more incensed than before. "Very amusing, yes. I trust you will be more professional when the time comes for you to actually commit the deed." Behind him he could hear the sounds of flesh connecting, low grunts and growls, and shuffling feet in sand as the crocodile and wolf finally worked up the nerve and testosterone to resume their bout of fisticuffs, but he ignored it, piercing the three snow leopards with his gaze.

 

"Of course," Wu Xiu purred, fangs gleaming between her black lips. Scooping up her dice again, she allowed them to fall to the table once, twice, thrice. The pips on the bone added up to four, then seven, then four again. Auspicious numbers for his purposes, though he wondered if the dice were weighted to give the assassin what would please her best. Tucking them back into a pocket of her tunic, then tugging her knife free of the wood to also disappear within her clothing, she smiled...darkly, sadistically, an expression that made his heart beat faster and a thrill of incipient victory surge through him.

 

"You can count on us. We'll do just as you asked of us: kill the Dragon Warrior."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Yes, I've been holding back on you on who all the villains in this story will be, and while you still may not know yet just who or what the main baddie is, the Wu Sisters should be fairly self-explanatory. Since we knew nothing about them when I wrote this, I had fun coming up with personalities for them. If the three seem to be reminiscent of, or even templates of, a certain other group of three females from another universe with kung fu in it, well...you know what they say, imitation is the highest form of flattery! And anyway they're not exactly identical, obviously. If of course you don't recognize them, then this will be all new to you. ;) As for their names, they mean: Xiu=graceful, Chun=spring (or honest), Jia=beautiful. (Of course they were named nice things at birth, no one yet knew what they'd become.)
> 
> Aside from the sisters, I've also obviously included the Bandit Inn from among the lost places in _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_. Other things I've included are the loose translation of Po's name, and the riddle of the scroll's meaning as described by Mark Osborne, which I felt could easily have been inscribed right on it and may even have been.


	14. Old Wounds

 

 

"What do you think _this_ is?" Monkey said, holding up a gnarled length of wood and eyeing it skeptically. "Another walking stick, or a backscratcher?"

 

Putting the tip of her tail to her mouth in a puzzled gesture, Viper peered over his shoulder at the item in question, tilting her head to the side to get a better look at it. "You know, I have no idea."

 

Smirking, Mantis eyed the length of wood up and down in a decidedly suggestive way and chuckled. "That's funny, I thought it was something else. Something _really_ personal, if you get my meaning."

 

"Mantis!" The serpent was blushing furiously, which only made the insect warm up even more to his subject—it was notoriously difficult to prompt that sort of response from Viper, and he dearly enjoyed every time he managed to do it.

 

"What? Sure, Oogway was no spring chicken, but do you think he was born old and wrinkly? Why, I bet when he was young, he could—"

 

" _Enough_." This came from Tai Lung, who had his eyes squeezed shut and his muzzle twisted in pain, as if he now couldn't banish the unwanted images from his mind and very much wished to blind himself. "Thank you _so_ much, Master Mantis. As if I didn't have a small enough store of happy cubhood memories to begin with, now I can't even think of the turtle the same way anymore."

 

The insect took a bow, grinning smugly. "Welcome, welcome. I'm here every festival day."

 

Rolling her eyes in the light of the lamp they'd brought with them to ward away the cloaking shadows of night, Tigress turned away from him to continue rummaging through a cabinet, and Mantis paused to consider, not for the first time since they'd begun their task, just how odd it was. Shifu had informed all of them upon returning from the village, as well as Po and Tai Lung once they came back from dinner, that he wished them to clean Grand Master Oogway's room and catalogue all the possessions within it, so that whatever was in good condition could be prepared for donation.

 

Despite the immense practical streak he possessed, Mantis had to consider that decision to be rather cold and shocking. It was only just shy of two weeks since the turtle had passed on, and already Shifu wanted to toss his things? _Talk about not knowing how to grieve._ On the other hand, Oogway would be the first to agree, generous soul that he'd been, that if anything he had owned could be useful to another or would bring happiness to someone in the Valley, it should be theirs—particularly since he no longer had need of possessions.

 

Then again, the insect was beginning to suspect that Shifu didn't really intend to give anything away at all, that this task had an entirely different purpose. Even if they really would be clearing house, their search and organization was already turning up intriguing things...and prompting reactions just as varied.

 

From the side of the turtle's narrow, low-slung bed, where a pudgy, black-and-white form was only half-visible as he scrounged beneath the furniture with one paw, Po suddenly let out an exclamation. Tugging up his flaxen pants which had, once again, begun to slide down to expose his rump, the panda slid out something large and very heavy with his other paw. "Hey, guys! Look at this!"

 

Turning back from the cabinet, Tigress raised an eyebrow. "Calm down, panda. What's got you so worked up?" As she crossed over to his side, the lantern light shone off the shimmering white petals of the orchid perched above one ear, rendering them translucent enough that even the pale violet in its center was made visible. The flower, inexplicably, had been brought up from the village and offered to her...by Tai Lung.

 

A peace offering, he supposed, but he didn't know which surprised him more—that the snow leopard had made such an emotive and thoughtful gesture, or that Tigress had accepted it, let alone chose to wear it in such an overtly feminine fashion. She'd acted bored, even disdainful, when he gave it to her, and yet she hadn't tossed it aside either. In fact when Mantis had begun teasing her about it, she had pressed her lips together and then deliberately fitted the blossom above her ear, as if made all the more determined to be gracious about it. Something very strange was going on there.

 

"It's a mahjong set," the Dragon Warrior explained excitedly.

 

"So?" Tai Lung crossed over from the other side of the room, where he'd been alphabetizing a set of scrolls from the closet. "We've seen those before."

 

"Not like this. It's got a teakwood case, for one thing. That's pretty rare and expensive." Po lifted the lid, sending up a large cloud of dust into the air—which, unfortunately, billowed right up into the spotted cat's face. Instantly, his golden eyes began watering, and even as he screwed them shut and scrunched his muzzle up to belatedly avoid it, Tai Lung was suddenly, and explosively, sneezing.

 

"Hey!" Monkey cried, the spray of mucus blasting over him, along with the cloud of dust settling like a gray blanket into his golden fur. "Watch it!"

 

"I...I...I cahn't help it, Mohnkey...it's not mhy fault I'm ah...ah...ah-choo! Allergic."

 

"Are you sure it's not work you're allergic to?" Mantis quipped.

 

"Shut up." Tai Lung rubbed furiously at his leaking nose, then his reddened eyes widened as he too stared down into the mahjong case. "Wait a minute...that's ivory!"

 

Suddenly the rest of the Five were crowding around to stare down in awe at the beautifully crafted, one-of-a-kind game. Considering ivory could only be found, for the most part, in the tusks of elephants, the only time an item could be fashioned from it was when a pachyderm died or shed his tusks. To find anything carved from it bespoke luxury and incredible honor bestowed on the one who owned it—the amount needed to make the one hundred and forty-four tiles must have cost a fortune.

 

The artwork painted and etched on the tiles, too, was exquisite, painstakingly hand-crafted by the look of it, and the inks used to do it were so vibrant and glowing even after all these years—for the mahjong set looked quite old—that they must have been available only to the rich elite as well. There were even the rare Flower tiles included in the set.

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Crane ran a feather along an ivory piece. "I wonder who gave it to him...?"

 

Viper was peering at the side of the teak box, trying to read the hanzi inscribed in the wood. Then she gasped. "Oh my—it was a gift from the Emperor!"

 

While Po looked even more stunned, and even Tigress seemed impressed, Mantis didn't even twitch. After all, he knew that Oogway had been close to the Emperor—in fact, he'd been close to almost every Emperor, having known at least ten of them during his long life in the Valley of Peace. And while the ruler of China did command deference and respect, the insect was not as easily awed as the others since he'd been to the Imperial City a number of times over the years, before the rest of the Five were even born. This was, in fact, how the turtle had first heard of his exploits, and bade the Emperor send him to the Jade Palace for further training.

 

"That would explain this, then," Monkey said suddenly, holding up something else he had pulled from beneath the bed—something hard and cylindrical which rattled and clacked in his hand, as he slowly unrolled it and presented it to them.

 

It was a painting, one of such gorgeous and lustrous watercolor, its hues and brightness as fresh and unfaded as the day they'd been applied, that it clearly must have been created by a master artist. Probably one of those commissioned by the Imperial family. Preserved on a long, tightly woven expanse of bamboo paneling, it depicted Master Oogway—looking much spryer of body and sharper of eye, but as bemused and clever as ever—standing beside an Amur tiger who was kneeling down to be more of a level with him. He did not wear the heavy royal robes of the Emperor, suggesting he was either still the Crown Prince at the time the image was painted—or that he was newly ascended to the throne and still getting used to the protocols and formalities. Or perhaps he even didn't set much store by them in those days. _Sounds like Oogway's influence to me._

 

What was even more surprising, at least to everyone else in the room, was that the tiger, who was quite young—no older than Tigress, and possibly closer to twenty-one—was also in superb physical condition. Not just the sort of well-proportioned, healthily fleshed figure expected for one of the nobility who would become the leader of such vast lands and their numerous people, and who might often need to lead his armies into battle against invaders. _Just come right out and say it, Mantis. The guy's BUFF._ This was made quite evident by the fact his garb, rich and costly crimson silk with gold trimming, consisted of a sleeveless vest which showed off his bare arms to great effect. The feline was not as bulky and sculpted as Tai Lung, but he certainly gave the snow leopard a run for his money.

 

After everyone had stared in silence at the painting for many long moments—at how their Emperor's bright blue eyes seemed to spear right through them, how his muzzle was turned up in a surprisingly warm, companionable smile which seemed to invite them in on a private joke, and how his image in fact seemed to ripple on the bamboo as if alive—Tigress finally managed to speak.

 

"That...is Emperor Chen? I...we met him once, when he traveled here from the Imperial City to witness all of us earning our titles as masters. But I had no idea...he was a stately figure, handsome but so _old._ I never thought—" Amazingly, she was blushing! Mantis hid a grin behind his pincer and began to laugh, low and wickedly.

 

He wasn't the only one who had caught on. Gasping in disbelief, Monkey yanked the picture out of sight and began rolling the bamboo up with hurried motions. "Tigress! Are you _crushing_ on the Son of Heaven? Do you _know_ how many taboos that just broke?" The corners of the simian's mouth turned up in a faint grin, but he still sounded rather nervous, as if he expected the gods to be listening in and preparing suitable chastisement.

 

The striped feline stiffened abruptly, doing her level best to wipe away all mirth and appreciation from her features. "I am _not_. I was just...startled, is all. It's not every day you find out your sovereign used to be...attractive." A peep of a giggle escaped her lips, quickly replaced by a mortified look and then her typical stern glower.

 

An annoyed and oddly resentful growl came from the side, and when he turned to look that way, Mantis was puzzled to see Tai Lung sitting on the bed with his arms tightly crossed, his back turned to where the painting had been in blatant rejection. For a moment he thought the arrogant snow leopard was actually daring to disrespect the Emperor because in his superiority he would bow to no one. But then as he snorted, rolled his eyes, and glanced sidelong at Tigress, the insect saw something in his golden orbs he would never have predicted in a million years—jealousy.

 

"He's hardly all that," the ex-convict drawled dismissively. "And he wasn't when I met him, either." Everyone turned and looked at him, some offended or disbelieving but most merely puzzled. He caught them looking, spread his paws, and shrugged. "What? D'you think I spent my whole life in the Valley of Peace? Oogway always said I needed to 'broaden my horizons.'" His wry tone made it clear what he thought of that proposition, and yet after a moment he added, "Maybe I did, at that. Anyway, we made several visits to the capital in my youth—and Oogway had such clout there, we were always let in without question, even though it was forbidden for everyone else to even gaze at the Emperor's face..."

 

He trailed off, as if only now appreciating the many gifts and privileges he'd received growing up which he had taken for granted, or even never bothered to acknowledge as worthwhile. But then he snapped his focus back on Tigress, his eyes blazing with an inner fire Mantis hadn't seen since their fight at the Thread of Hope as he ground his teeth together. "Gifted ruler or not, though, he's just another pampered pretty boy as far as I'm concerned!"

 

The vehemence in his voice was strangely intense...but as Mantis looked from his jutting, quivering chin, to Tigress where she knelt on the floor, staring at Tai Lung in mingled confusion and resentment, the insect felt like smacking himself in the head. And then following up with just as healthy a whack to the snow leopard for good measure.

_Dense, dense! How could I be so dense? He's been locked up without a woman for twenty years, and I bet before that he couldn't be bothered to notice if one got right up in his face and shook her_ — _anywho, yeah going without would've been a real challenge for him, he'd have lapped that up in a minute! Not to mention the whole 'I must be the Dragon Warrior!' shtick, couldn't let anything interfere with getting that scroll. But now that's been put paid, and he's free as a bird, and there's Tigress all tempting and luscious in front of him, and is it getting hot in here and WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?_

 

Clamping down manfully on his extremely inappropriate thoughts, Mantis forced himself away from his libido and instead continued to stare in disbelief at Tai Lung—for his urgent shout to himself could apply just as readily to the spotted feline. _He's dead. He is so dead. If she even gets one whiff of this_ — _waaait a minute, is **that** why she won't talk about that night in his...oh man. He's worse than dead. She's going to castrate him, then feed it to him. After she's through, he's gonna wish Po vaporized him. He'll **beg** him to! There won't even be little pieces left, and I couldn't rouse him even with every needle I've got_...

 

While his somewhat crazed rant continued on blithely in his head, Tigress did indeed look on the verge of exploding. But before she could do so, Po of all people intervened. Whether he'd actually wised up enough to recognize the warning signs, or his insatiable curiosity had gotten the better of him so that he spoke up at just the right moment, was up for debate.

 

"I dunno, Tai," he said, rubbing his chin as he watched Monkey stowing the roll of bamboo in the basket for 'things to keep'. "He didn't look very wimpy to me. Though now that ya mention it, that is kinda weird...since when do noblemen have bods like that guy?"

 

For a few long moments everyone looked at each other, perplexed—save for Mantis, who was still panicking at the imminent murder in their midst, and Tai Lung, who looked...uncomfortably knowing. "That would be because...he knew kung fu," he admitted at last, with extreme reluctance.

 

More amazed stares, and then Po finally blurted out, " _Really_? Wow, that's hardcore!"

 

"Who knew..." Viper murmured.

 

"I guess it figures, him being best friends with the guy who invented it," Crane noted.

 

"I wonder which style he specialized in," Tigress mused.

 

"What do you think?" the Dragon Warrior joked, nudging her side.

 

"Actually," Mantis cut in at last, "it wasn't Tiger style at all. I got to see him perform with Oogway once, when I was in the capital." He paused significantly, as it was rather rare for him to have knowledge none of the others did, especially about such a surprising topic. Then he glanced aside at the avian kung fu master. "It was Crane style."

 

Everyone blinked, gasped, and marveled to themselves, and then Monkey finally said, "That...makes a lot of sense. Evasion, deflection, cleverness...all marks of a good diplomat, you know." The others nodded in agreement, looking quite impressed—even Tai Lung, against his better judgment. Crane, of course, only ducked his head in embarrassment.

 

After another awed silence had passed, Po at last looked down at the mahjong set again, then closed the lid and carried it over to the same box as the painting. "Huh...learn something new every day. I wonder if Oogway played with my dad, or maybe my grandpa? Bet that would've been almost as fun to watch as a kung fu tournament!"

 

The snow leopard sniffed, but Tigress chuckled darkly as she got to her feet and went back to resume her own cleaning. "I doubt it, and that's probably a good thing. I watched him play Master Shifu many times when I was young, and he won every single time. If he had played any of your family, Po, you'd have a turtle for a grandfather."

 

To that, the panda had no reply—perhaps because he was blushing furiously while everyone else laughed.

 

After that, another fifteen or twenty minutes passed before anything truly interesting turned up. Very little seemed worthless enough to discard, except for some moldy, moth-eaten books and scrolls, and of course the turtle's minimal clothing—while it was all, for the most part, adorned with the sacred symbol of the Yin-Yang, it was also sized for him and there were very few turtles in the Valley. But not everything amongst what they were keeping was that remarkable either, so that time passed silently for the most part, save for the sounds of sweeping and folding, and the wind whistling outside the shutters which caused their lantern to flicker and sway from time to time.

 

Then, as he took the last of a set of books down from a shelf, which was high enough along the wall that Mantis wondered if Oogway'd had to perch atop his staff to reach it, Crane let out a soft exclamation. "Well, you don't see one of these every day."

 

"What?" Monkey asked him, peering over his shoulder.

 

"It's a book of haiku."

 

"You mean that weird poetry from Japan?" Po raised his eyebrow with a skeptical and confused look. "I've never been able to understand that stuff. But I guess that sounds like something Oogway'd like."

 

Tigress looked over Crane's shoulder too as he opened the small book and randomly flipped pages. "Down by the old pond, a small frog leaps off his pad; the sound of water." She furrowed her brows. "I don't get it. But he did put a nice lily in there to go with it."

 

Indeed, as Mantis hopped up on her shoulder to look, he saw that flowers had been neatly pressed between all the pages—and while most of them were native to China, there were many others he had heard of through his herbal lore as hailing from far-away lands...and others he didn't recognize at all.

 

"The winds of Tibet," the insect read slowly, "come knocking on my doorstep; I must grow a peach." He paused, then shook his head. "What the hell?" _If that's the kind of stuff he liked to read, and write, no wonder he lost his marbles near the end there. Except...he always talked like that._

 

Even as he wondered why Oogway had placed a peony next to that page, Crane was reading a third poem. "The first cold shower—even Monkey seems to want/a small coat of straw."

 

"Wait, that one I do get," Mantis chuckled.

 

Even as he was explaining about Japanese rain-gear to Crane and Tigress, Po rubbed the back of his neck, looking from the book to the rest of them. "Huh. Guess that just proves what I always heard, growin' up. Oogway liked to travel a lot, didn't he?"

 

Viper giggled. "That's something of an understatement, Po. He wasn't even from China, was he? Where did he say he was from..."

 

"Somewhere across the ocean," Monkey offered, as he started digging through an ancient chest in one corner. "An island...Galapagos?" He frowned, as if not sure he'd gotten the name right.

 

The Dragon Warrior scratched his head. "But...how'd he get here?"

 

"By ship?" Tai Lung ventured, rolling his eyes at the panda's obtuseness. "Unless you think the old codger _swam_ all the way to China."

 

Po crossed his arms defensively over his chest and stuck his tongue out. "You never know, he just might have. What I don't get is why he stopped here in the first place."

 

"Maybe his arms were tired?" Monkey joked. Everyone laughed again.

 

As Crane thoughtfully placed the book in the 'to keep' pile, he said, "From what he told me, I think he just liked to travel, and this is where he let the winds take him. Maybe this was the first place that called to him to stay. Or he just loved the beauty of the Valley."

 

Tai Lung snorted as he took down an old stone planter trailing kudzu and placed it near the door, to be taken out to the Jade Palace gardens. "If you ask me, travel is overrated. The people are never polite, your feet get sore, the accommodations are terrible, and the only good thing about it is, when you get back home you suddenly appreciate just how wonderful it is."

 

Po grinned and waggled a finger at him. "But what about all the different cuisine, huh? Someday I'd love to sample all that, see if I can get some really good recipes out of it."

 

"That's it, panda, always thinking with your stomach."

 

"Oh!" Viper suddenly exclaimed from another corner, as she peered down into the drawer of a sandalwood desk she'd opened. "Oh my goodness..." As the others watched her, the serpent plucked a package of rolled up parchment from its cubbyhole, untying the silk ribbon that had been holding it shut. As she opened the first scroll and began to read, she immediately smiled, then chuckled, her cheeks starting to tinge pink.

 

Mantis, who had finally fully recovered from his shocking discovery about the two felines, scuttled over and hopped up on the desk, peering down at what she was reading. "What is it?"

 

The serpent smiled rather dreamily as she looked up. "Love letters."

 

There was a pause. Then, from Po: "Ewww."

 

Viper looked offended. "No really, this is beautiful, listen! 'You are truly a garden of sweet fragrances, a cherry grove blooming at the height of spring, jasmine wafting up with your every step, an orchid's fragile petals in your touch, and the peony exhales with your every word. Who could compare you to a lotus blossom? I only need you to ensnare my mind from the cares of the world.'"

 

Behind him, Mantis could hear Tai Lung mimicking the sounds of retching, and he was fairly certain those were the signs of nausea on Tigress's face as well. And Monkey was wondering to anyone who would listen who the lucky lady was. But he couldn't be bothered with that; instead he hurriedly began shuffling through the other scrolls, searching madly. "C'mon, where's the _good_ stuff? I _know_ it's gotta be in here somewhere..."

 

The serpent hissed at him warningly, but he ignored her, only snatching away the letters and darting across the desktop out of her reach. And after discarding one sappy, poetic ballad after another, he finally found what he was looking for. "Ah-ha!" He scanned the lines...paused...and then let the scroll fall from his suddenly numb pincers.

 

"What? What is it?" Monkey asked curiously, reaching over. Viper tried to intervene, but the langur was too quick for her...and as he read with Crane looking over his shoulder, both males gasped openly, the bird swallowed hard, and the simian covered his mouth with his free hand to choke back a laugh. "Oh...I see..."

 

Tigress rolled her eyes and grabbed the letter away. "Oh for goodness' sake! It can't be _that_ bad, this _is_ Master Oogway we're talking about..." When her eyes scanned the document, however, they widened in disbelief as she bit her lip and cringed visibly. "No...that can't mean what I think it does..."

 

"Not listening!" Tai Lung cried loudly, clapping his paws over his ears and singing (deliberately off-key) mindless syllables to drown her out. "La la la, I'm not hearing this!"

 

As he took the letter from Tigress and very carefully hid it back in the desk drawer, Crane muttered. " _That_ was more than I needed to know."

 

"What?" Po said blankly, as his raging curiosity finally overcame his good sense and initial disgust.

 

"Trust me," Mantis averred, "you don't wanna know. Let's just say, there are some people who shouldn't read the Kama Sutra..."

 

On that note, the seven of them hurriedly went back to their chore, desperate to find anything to take their minds off what they'd just learned. Sadly, there wasn't much left of the room to catalogue: a map of some distant land none of them were aware of; what looked like a recipe for a sweet, brown dessert that would reputedly melt in one's mouth which Po latched onto immediately; a pair of nunchaku that Monkey thoughtfully appropriated; a battered set of wooden tiles that Tigress stared at in shock before wiping her eyes and complaining of all the dust still floating in the air; and an ancient, well-preserved manuscript that, incredibly, seemed to be an original copy of the _Romance of the Three Kingdoms_.

 

This last was practically pounced upon by Tai Lung, which didn't surprise Mantis in the least; the novel was notorious for its lurid scenes of bloody battles and complex warfare, political intrigue and terrible treachery—all things the snow leopard would either love to be a part of, or might have wished to stamp out, once upon a time.

 

Finally there was nothing left except for one cabinet. Po was about to open it when Tigress intervened. "Don't bother, as long as I've been here it's always been kept locked."

 

"Not anymore," Mantis interjected, holding up a large iron key about half his size that he'd been concealing under his carapace. "Master Shifu gave this to me..." And he had a sneaking suspicion why, too...

 

By now everyone was either slightly traumatized by the things they'd learned about the Grand Master, or feeling decidedly ill at ease for prying into his privacy, despite or even because of his death. But Mantis, figuring they'd better get this over with or else Shifu would tan their hides, urged Monkey to unlock it, and so he did. When he reached inside, however, the first thing he pulled out was the last thing any of them expected.

 

The Dragon Warrior recognized it right away, since he had five just like it back in his room above the noodle shop and he'd always wanted one growing up. Made of carved and polished wood with articulated metal joints and brightly painted in true-to-life colors, it crouched low to the ground, one leg extended while the powerful upper body leaned back, perfectly balanced to whip around in a devastating combo that would bring fists flashing or a leg driven down from above. It was, incredibly, an action figure of Tai Lung.

 

For several more moments everyone stared at the object as if it were a sacred relic. Then, slowly, the stunned snow leopard reached out and took it from Monkey's hand. "I...I don't believe it. I thought they were all destroyed, long ago. After what I did, they certainly wouldn't be giving their children toys of me..."

 

"Looks like Oogway saved one. Or maybe Shifu," Crane said just as softly.

 

"But why?" Monkey actually sounded a bit resentful, which made Mantis peer at him suspiciously. All of them had been defeated, humiliated, and paralyzed by Tai Lung at the Thread of Hope, yet only the golden langur seemed to take it as a personal affront, or hold a deeper grudge than the rest of them. Why this should be, the insect didn't know...and he hated unanswered questions.

 

Speaking of which, no one seemed to have an explanation for why the Grand Master, the one who had predicted Tai Lung's fall to darkness and in the end had been the one to singlehandedly bring an end to his rampage, would have kept a figure of him like those the Furious Five had inspired. Except, of course, that he was a senile old turtle.

 

"Maybe," Crane ventured at last, speaking to the spotted feline, "he knew you'd come back, that Master Shifu would try and help you, and he wanted to remind you of who you used to be."

 

For a moment, Tai Lung bristled visibly, though whether at the implication he needed help or the reference to how far he had fallen since his days as a student wasn't clear. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Perhaps so." He paused, then chuckled lightly as he turned the figure around in his paws, making the joints bend with soft, unoiled squeaks as he put it through stances and poses he'd probably memorized until he could perform them in his sleep. "I suppose, if I'm to be a hero again, I'll need my badge of honor..."

 

Next to him, the panda looked fairly fit to be tied, however, bouncing from one foot to the other as his paws wriggled in eagerness. "Really, Tai? 'Cause...I was kinda thinkin'...I could add it to my collection, y'know? It's, like, really rare, and I always wanted one growin' up, but of course Dad couldn't find any..."

 

From the look on the snow leopard's face, he was absolutely mortified, even disturbed, at the thought of Po owning a facsimile of himself, let alone playing with it. Mantis couldn't blame him on that one.

 

"...or, maybe not?" The bear backed away nervously, smiling lamely.

 

After a few moments of discreet silence—maintained by Viper glaring daggers at Monkey to keep him from making the teasing barbs he surely had on the tip of his tongue—Tigress then broke it by reaching into the cabinet to find the second item contained within. This proved to be a roll of silk that, when unfurled, brought a furious blush to Tai Lung's cheeks and made all the rest of them dissolve into much needed laughter, and more than a few heart-warmed 'awwws.'

 

Once again, Oogway had been depicted in soft pastel watercolors, this time looking much as they had known him, but he was sitting down so as to hold someone in his lap—the utterly adorable, and quite unmistakable, form of Tai Lung when he was only a cub. Huge, twinkling eyes, a broad smile that displayed his little predator's fangs, and silver-gray fur that made him look even more like a puffball waiting to happen. The way he was so studiously attempting to adopt the same pose as Oogway was even more hilarious, and even Mantis had to admit the little guy was cute, to the point he could hardly believe they were the same person.

 

"Good grief," Tai Lung muttered, trying to avert his eyes and yet somehow unable to look away. "I don't even remember the day that was painted...well, none of you get any funny ideas about me, you hear? Don't believe everything you see, I was a little hellion back then, believe you me." He seemed rather proud of that declaration.

 

"Somehow, I think I can believe that," Tigress smirked.

 

Crane nudged her arm with his wing, however. "You should. From what I heard from Master Shifu, you weren't much better at that age."

 

For a moment she stiffened, and Mantis was afraid she had every intention of lashing out furiously at the avian for daring to reference her days at Bao Gu—or just as bad, bringing up yet again how Shifu had always remained aloof and critical, generous with correcting faults but miserly with praise. But then, she forced herself to relax, shook her head, and only smiled sadly in acknowledgment. "You may have a point there."

 

Po, meanwhile, had apparently recovered enough to risk life and limb yet again. For this time he did reach out to lay claim to the painting, holding it in both paws as he stared down at the sweet, tender image before he glanced decisively at Tai Lung. "Okay, you've _got_ to let me have this one then."

 

"Why?" the snow leopard asked guardedly.

 

The Dragon Warrior grinned triumphantly. "So I can show the whole Valley, of course, why else? I mean, there's no way they could keep on hatin' ya and distrustin' ya if they saw this...who could turn on a face like this?"

 

A welter of conflicting emotions flitted across the feline's blocky features, so fast Mantis couldn't place them all—though by the way Tai Lung's paws twitched and flexed as if seeking a neck to throttle, he judged most of them weren't very good ones. When he finally spoke, his eyes narrowed to slits so that their bright gold seemed even more ominous in the shadows beneath his brows, it was in a very soft, almost conversational tone. "Is it that you think you're so wonderful that the universe can't survive without you, or are you so dense you don't know how close to dying you really are?"

 

Po's face fell, and Mantis couldn't blame him—Tai Lung seemed far too sensitive about anything which made him seem more human and less of a badass. On the other hand, the people of the village surely saw the snow leopard as he was growing up, and it hadn't changed how they felt about him now—what good would one picture do? Still, at least he was trying...and despite the venom in the snow leopard's voice, Mantis had the odd sensation his heart wasn't truly in the insult.

_Which is a real shame, that was a classic. Have to remember that one..._

 

Viper, meanwhile, had crawled over to the cabinet and peered inside...and what she found there seemed to startle and shock her as much as the action figure had Tai Lung. Slowly, she reached in with her tail and withdrew something wrapped in her coils, something small, soft, and fuzzy which she held up mutely to the ex-convict. The mix of shame and annoyance he'd been displaying since the picture was unveiled vanished into perplexity...and solemnity, as he reached over to quietly take it from the serpent.

 

It was a stuffed animal, the sort any child would play with, meant for hugging, squeezing, cuddling...sleeping with at night to ward away fears of darkness, and carrying during the day as a constant companion. Though quite old—Mantis had a feeling it was almost as old as Tai Lung himself—it was still in very good condition, its fur complete and whole, if a little dusty. It was also a snow leopard.

 

No one said a word; no one seemed sure what to say. The toy could mean any number of things, or nothing. After several long moments had passed, Tai Lung finally looked up, shook himself, and glanced around uneasily. "Eh...am I the only one starting to get a little...disturbed by all this? It's as if Oogway had...a shrine to me. I knew he was off his rocker, but..."

 

But Viper, who was always the most insightful of them all when it came to matters of the heart, shook her head and peered up at him beseechingly. "No, I don't think that's it at all. Don't you see? He loved you."

 

Tai Lung froze.

 

"Maybe not as much as Master Shifu, or in quite the same way," she pressed her point. "But he did all the same. I think he kept all these things because...he hoped one day you'd change, that you'd repent what you did and ask for forgiveness...and then he would have released you from prison so you could come home."

 

Behind her, Monkey looked indignant as well as contemptuous, but thankfully Crane smothered whatever he would have said with his wing. Po, watching from one side, soon sported a trembling lip and tears running down his cheeks. Even Tigress looked a little overwhelmed at this revelation and its extremely likely interpretation. And as for the snow leopard himself...Mantis couldn't believe the depth of naked emotion on his face: disbelief, denial, confusion, anger, and finally...infinite sorrow. For opportunities lost, perhaps, and regrets of the past...or perhaps something more.

 

At last, after shaking himself visibly Tai Lung turned away abruptly, though whether he was placing his back to them or to Oogway's collection wasn't apparent. But he didn't let go of the snow leopard toy either—in fact he clutched it tightly in his paw. "That...that can't be possible. It's probably just an old gift Shifu was going to give to me but never got around to it, and he asked the turtle to hold onto it. Oogway...he couldn't have felt that way."

 

Po started to reach out a paw to rest it comfortingly on Tai Lung's shoulder, then for once seemed to think better of it, drawing it back and curling it uncertainly against his chest. As he bit his lip and shuffled back, Tigress of all people took his place. "I know what you mean," she said uncomfortably. "I feel the same way, a lot of the time, about Shifu. How could someone so disciplined, so distant, ever feel something like that? Sometimes, though...what we think we see, and what is fact, are not the same."

 

The snow leopard didn't answer...which was at least better than him lashing out, as Mantis was afraid he would. Then again, perhaps it was because he didn't trust his voice, as the insect could see something wet gleaming at the corners of his eyes, and heard a faint sound that might have been the feline sniffling. Rubbing his nose with the back of his paw, Tai Lung at last mumbled, "Damn allergies."

 

Monkey placed one fist on his hip, smirking openly, but before he could set off a truly violent attack with one of his thoughtless, mocking remarks, Mantis intervened. "Well, that seems to be everything, so why don't we get this stuff to the storeroom like Shifu wanted? And Tai Lung...we'll let you..." He almost said 'pull yourself together.' "...clean up here. Right, guys?"

 

Everyone agreed, even the simian once he saw which way the wind was blowing and that no one was about to allow him to torment the feline as he so wished to do. With a few soft grunts of effort and the scraping of stone and wood, they gathered together the boxes and chests of possessions and, one by one, began to file out of the room. Other than Monkey, each of them looked introspective, saddened, and bemused by turns. Tigress seemed the most shaken; Po, of course, the most sympathetic.

 

But as Mantis stopped in the doorway and looked back...watching as Tai Lung sat listlessly on the bed, gazing down at the figure and the painting while he held the stuffed toy tightly against his chest...he realized, at last, why Shifu had given him that key and what this lesson was supposed to teach. He wondered if the red panda were making this up as he went along, or if he'd planned each step out some time ago. All he was sure of was, their master had to be the cruelest man he'd ever met. Or the kindest. _Possibly both_.

 

Either way—there was a lot of pain to be dealt with, there. And seeing that made Mantis wish, suddenly, that even though the odds were stacked high against him, the snow leopard could get what he sought with Tigress. Because he didn't know how else to ease that ache in Tai Lung's heart. It was certainly nothing the insect could fix, whether with needles or herbs. And that made him feel helpless...something he wasn't used to, and didn't like one bit.

 

* * *

 

The pain was what brought him back to consciousness first—and once he stirred, it became so agonizing, so excruciating, he had no idea how he couldn't have noticed it before, how he could have stayed dead to the world at all.

 

He wished he had. Not that he was any stranger to pain, of course, it was part of his job description—literally—something he had come to view as a companion if not a friend as he had trained himself in the arts of kung fu, and in the end, an indelible part of life that could not be avoided. Something which had to be tolerated, accepted, even embraced. But that view had not taken into account something as constant and unrelenting as this. It felt as if his every nerve ending were exposed to the air, his skin abraded and scraped down to the bone, his flesh stinging and flayed until there was nothing left of him but the pain itself and a long, endless scream.

 

And that was just in the first few seconds he became aware of it.

 

Such was its intensity, and it was so uniform and all-encompassing throughout his body, that it took him several more minutes before he realized there was more to it than the never-ending, marrow-deep claws which dug into his every fiber until they sank even into the sluggish channels of his brain. There was a lesser pain, one physical rather than mental or spiritual—what felt like cold, hard metal digging into the flesh of his wrists, his own weight making it increasingly unbearable as his arms, in turn, seemed to be slowly wrenching from their sockets.

 

It was a pair of manacles, with chains rising to the wall above and behind him to unseen fastenings, and he hung from them with arms suspended over his head and his toes barely touching the floor, thus aggravating his position all the more. How he could have been maneuvered like this, he had no idea—while he obviously couldn't have struggled against them, his unknown captor must be incredibly strong to manhandle his dead weight.

 

But it didn't matter. He'd weathered torture before, and would do it again until he could repay the atrocity with justice. That was what he did. He always found those he sought no matter how they tried to hide, and made sure they suffered for their wrongdoings. The guilty would be punished, always.

 

He'd remember that thought later...with hatred, but also with stark fear.

 

He had no idea where he was, how he had gotten there, how much time had passed since he was last awake. He only knew there were walls and floor because he could feel the rough stone touching him; otherwise all was lost in darkness, with not even a single torch to cut through the gloom. And while the musty staleness to the air, as well as the lack of air currents and daylight, suggested he was indoors somewhere, beyond that he hadn't a clue where. Although there was something about the oppressive silence, the feel of thousands of pounds of rock crushing down on him from above, and the scent of the place that seemed upsettingly familiar...

 

Only after many long minutes of forcing himself to adapt to the pain, so that it had dulled down to a throbbing ache in the background, did he realize he wasn't alone.

 

Movement in the shadows before him—or was it the shadows _themselves_ moving, coalescing together to create a physical form? Whatever it was, it made his skin crawl, and if he could have, he would have reared away in revulsion and terror. When it finally manifested before him clearly enough to be seen, the fact it could be pinpointed somehow didn't lessen its disturbing nature in the slightest.

 

The figure was large, easily his height and maybe a few inches taller, broader in the shoulders and even more barrel-chested—whoever he was, he was either extremely vain when he drew upon magic (for what else could explain the way he'd appeared?) to fashion a body, or he had spent much time on labor and exercise—although there was also a sinuous litheness about his frame, as if he could move exceptionally fast should he wish it. But it wasn't his size that made him so intimidating and inspired such fear. It was...something else about him, an aura of sorts that only grew more pronounced the longer he felt it.

 

Even though the shadows seemed to form a cloak around his captor that completely hid his identity, there was no sound of swishing fabric as he approached...it was as if he didn't really exist, though the prisoner knew better. He was damn real, all right... Lurching upright as best he could in his bindings, he glared out into the darkness, trying to focus on the mysterious visitor who somehow seemed to slide out of view whenever he looked directly at him. Fading in and out of sight, evading him as easily as if he were a crane in flight, never in the same place twice...

 

"Wh-who are you? And what the hell do you think you're doing with me? You let me outta here this minute! When Master Shifu hears about this, he'll—"

 

"You're assuming he'll ever know anything about this conversation or your ultimate fate," his captor cut him off, his voice low, soft, and strangely compelling, as if he were a storyteller who knew how to captivate an audience. He also had an oddly urbane tone, as if the two of them had sat down together for an afternoon of hobnobbing at the local tea shop. "You're assuming he even cares...or that he even matters. No, I'm very much afraid Shifu can't, and won't, do anything to help you.

 

"As for who I am...I am someone who can give you what you most desire."

 

The prisoner snorted derisively, even as he slumped back against the rocky wall in defeat—the bastard was right, no one knew where he was or even that he was still alive. "And what would you know about my desires?" he asked rhetorically, trying as usual to bravado his way through.

 

For answer the cloaked figure lifted a hand to gesture—and suddenly a tendril of black mist wafted toward him...and as soon as it brushed his cheek, he stiffened, back arching and every single muscle wrenching out of alignment as sensations coursed through him he couldn't put a name to. Except to know they were intense, uncontrollable...and despite their frightening nature, inexplicably appealing. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry, scream...or let out moans of a much different bent.

 

By the time the mist receded, allowing him to once again droop in his cursed chains, the prisoner was shuddering from head to foot, panting and sweating even though every inch of him also trembled with a chill so bone-deep he didn't think he could ever get warm again. And from the large wet patch in his trousers, he knew he'd been made to soil himself. Either that, or a more depraved alternative he didn't want to think about...

 

Casually, as if nothing untoward had just occurred, his assailant observed, "I think I know a great deal about them. Wouldn't you agree?"

 

Before he could muster up any sort of reply, let alone the sarcastic one he longed to make, the figure continued in a more direct and authoritative tone. "But I expect you were wishing a more informative answer. So, to be more straightforward—I can give you Tai Lung."

 

As soon as that name was hissed out of the shadows—as if by thousands of tongues in overlapping echoes, as if the walls themselves were speaking it—he stiffened again, though not due to any malefic power being brought to bear...as twenty years of memories coursed through him...

_Those golden eyes. Those blazing, insane, loathsomely wicked golden eyes. They had always been there, haunting and tormenting him, whether asleep or awake. He'd first seen them from the shadows of the Hall of Warriors, when he'd achieved captaincy in the Anvil of Heaven and had been brought to the Jade Palace to be congratulated by Master Oogway himself. His father and grandfather, and who knew how many generations back, had been close friends with the tortoise, and it had been the Grand Master himself who trained him in the arts of kung fu, trained all of them ever since his great-great-great-and-then-some-grandfather Master Flying Rhino. And it had been standing before the sage, kneeling by the Moon Pool to receive his blessing, that he'd spied the bright yellow orbs fixed on him from the darkness._

_The best student Oogway and Shifu had ever trained, they said. Master of all the thousand scrolls of kung fu even though he was not even yet eighteen_ — _which meant he must have been reading and mastering them at a rate of sixty or seventy a year, a feat never matched before or since. A snow leopard, handsome, cocky, with a devil-may-care attitude and a pretension toward sophistication (even though he rarely left the Valley of Peace) which had rubbed him the wrong way the moment they met. The fellow'd been polite enough, had even honored him with a bow after Oogway's introduction, after he'd ceased leaning nonchalantly against a pillar and graced them with his presence. The Dragon Warrior hopeful, everyone said, a kung fu fighter like none the world had ever seen. Only two years older, and already a hero throughout the land for his numerous great deeds._

_But something in those eyes had chilled him. Not outright darkness or evil, that would have been too obvious. More the sense that the feline would do anything_ — _absolutely anything_ — _to get what he wanted. Or to right a wrong done him, however slight. Something the two of them shared in common more than he cared to admit._

_Of course, the next time he'd seen those eyes was a few scant months later, after Tai Lung had been denied the Dragon Scroll and gone on his rampage in the village. He'd stood on a bridge, defending the helpless townsfolk fleeing behind him and keeping the snow leopard from reaching the stairs to the palace. And no matter how many rhinos had been arrayed against the feline, he'd tossed them aside as if they were no more than cherry blossoms_ — _his father, his uncles, even his elder brothers had all been smashed through mercilessly, murdered without a second's thought simply because they were obstacles. And as the rest of his troop was decimated, and he was left groaning and collapsed on the bridge planks in a pool of blood, he'd seen those eyes staring down at him in contempt._

_Several days later, after the insane snow leopard had been demoralized, utterly defeated by Oogway with only five simple nerve strikes, and a restraint had been devised by the clever turtle to hold Tai Lung, he'd been carted off to Chorh-Gom to serve his lifelong sentence (at least so far as the Valley had been concerned_ — _Oogway and Shifu had always been rather evasive and tight-lipped on the subject, respectively). And the entire journey to Tavan Bogd, as he'd sat on the running board and clutched painfully at his bandaged side, he'd felt those eyes on the back of his head...boring in relentlessly with hate, malice, and cruelty, most likely inventing all manner of shocking ways to do violence upon his warden once he was free again._

_He never was, of course. Not for twenty years. But for all of that time, while the snow leopard languished and rotted in the fortress armory that had been converted to a prison solely to hold him, those eyes had never stopped staring at him. Whether smoldering like molten lava; half-lidded when given in to despair or boredom, or on the verge of sleep; or resolute with the belief that he was superior to his jailors in every way and would one day escape from them...those eyes never wavered. They tormented him, burned into the back of his skull so he could never escape himself._

_What they told him was, even though he held the keys, the weapons, the traps and the authority...he could never sleep easy. Because he would always fear, as well he should. Because even though his prisoner seemed docile and controlled, he was anything but the sort. Because no matter how often he abused Tai Lung, with word or with whip, he knew he could never truly break that indomitable spirit._

_And that fear had been realized, the last time he saw those eyes. It was for that reason, not the collapsing stalactites and bridges, nor the ignited explosives being flung in his direction, that when Zeng shrilly asked if they could run, he had agreed in a most-unmanly squeak._

_Because he knew Tai Lung had marked him for death. And that the way those eyes flared up at him, as the spotted feline hurtled down from the heights of the cavern, he would never rest until he knew for certain he had achieved his revenge..._

 

Shuddering violently as he snapped out of his reverie, Vachir gasped and snarled under his breath for several minutes—for those few moments which had seemed like an eternity, it had been as if he'd truly relived his memories. Glaring again at his tormentor, the rhino somehow managed a sadistic chuckle. "Tai Lung? Is that what all this is about? What, you want me to capture him, kill him? Why the hell didn't ya just say so, instead of all this crazy smoke and mirrors shit? I'd have gladly done that for you!"

 

Even as he said it, though, he knew why. Whoever or whatever this...thing...in front of him was, it was well and truly evil, rotten to the core. Which meant that even if its ultimate goal was something he would hardly disapprove of and might even support, its methods would leave something to be desired. Surely it would ask of him something he did not wish to give...something which would be against his code of honor. Something truly despicable—the fact it had trapped him in his own prison, after all (for thanks to his memories, he had at last discerned he was somewhere in the depths of Chorh-Gom), didn't bode well at all...

 

Indeed, when the figure spoke again, in a sardonic tone that would have been accompanied by a lopsided smirk if he could have seen within the hood...if there was even a mouth to see...what he said sent both a chill down Vachir's spine and made his temper begin to boil.

 

"Kill him? Why would I ask you to do a disgraceful thing such as that? Tai Lung is a work of art...I'd hardly wish to discard him so cavalierly...no, that would be a terrible waste. Capture him? Perhaps, if it comes to that—if you believe you can manage it." The dark mist, which had been swirling sluggishly around his feet, now churned up in extreme agitation, as if it too were excited about these nefarious possibilities.

 

"What I do wish of you is for you to _lure_ him. Bring him to me...so that I may complete what I started twenty years ago, and make him wholly my creature."

 

A long pause, while the rhino tried to come to terms with this, stared incredulously at his captor, and then finally gritted his teeth. "Let me think about that...uh, no?"

 

He expected the creature to fly into a towering rage, but he actually laughed—and that was almost worse, as the laugh in question was both dry and hollow, like hearing a corpse laughing from its grave...and genuinely regretful, as if the thing really pitied him for the limitations of morality. "Come now...are you telling me, and do you expect me to believe, that you don't wish revenge on Tai Lung?"

 

"Of course I do!" he retorted instantly. "He made me look like an idiot, cost me everything I've worked for, and killed almost all my men. And I'll be damned if I let him destroy the Valley of Peace again. But I ain't gonna do it at that price. I wanna _stop_ his evil, not help him give in to it even more! And I won't be a stooge for nobody..."

 

Something seemed to shift in the shadows—not a movement, but a change in aura or intent. A decision had been made...and it didn't feel very pleasant. "I see. I'm sorry you feel that way. I had hoped an accommodation could be reached, that we could work together for mutual advantage. But it seems I must be more...persuasive."

 

The cold tone in that voice, as well as the choice of words, told Vachir what lay in store for him—and he drew himself up to his full height, clenching his fists as he nerved himself to face what was to come. "Torture, huh? Real cute. I've seen it _all_ before, mister. Ain't nothing you can do to me that'll make me help you. Do your worst, but it ain't gonna do you any good. Guess you'll just have to kill me."

 

Later...when he could manage to form a coherent thought, when even a trace of his former self could trickle through and focus its scattered bits together, he would regret those words, and his big mouth. Because in truth, he was only a babe compared to what he faced—torture could not even begin to describe it.

 

"That could be arranged at a later date. But I don't think it will." A tone of self-satisfaction filled the dark voice. "You see, I don't have to kill you..."

 

Once again, the dark spirit did not move, only sent its serpentine onyx fog in his direction...but this time, it kept coming, more and more of it building up like a thunderhead expanding, ready to explode with streaks of lightning to reave the heavens and incinerate hapless fools caught without shelter. And as the cloud surrounded him, teasingly touching him as if with a lover's caress, he stiffened again—he could feel himself...drifting. Rising. Being drawn away from his body.

 

He dared to look down—and choked back a scream. Slack-jawed, drooling, its face twisted into a caricature of life, his body lay below him, slumped against the wall. His consciousness, the part which was staring at this sight in horror, hovered amorphously in the air...and he could see something—what looked like misty light, golden like the sun but intermixed with dark spots and patches like some repellent disease—connecting him to his body.

 

Somehow, his captor had latched onto his _chi_ , and drawn out his soul.

 

"No...I don't have to kill you at all..."

 

He only had time for a desperate prayer to the gods, and a fervent wish that he had better studied matters of _chi_ under Oogway, before the pain flared anew. Deeper, more keening and agonizing than any before—for this was not pain of the body, but of the spirit. It wasn't merely that his soul was where it wasn't supposed to be, or that the dark filaments of mist were sliding over it as if strumming the strings of an instrument. Something seemed to lurch inside him, prompting the same sort of feeling that would normally make him release the contents of his stomach. Except for this, there was no recourse, no relief. It was as if he were vomiting the essence of his self out.

 

Darkness enveloped his senses. There was something out there, peering at him, judging him, salaciously hungering for him to be ripped asunder from his body so that it could claim him and feast upon him. The gods, demons, his own men's ghosts craving payback—he had no idea. But they terrified him. Somehow, he knew they could see straight into his heart, see his greatest sins, his most deeply buried insecurities, his most hated weaknesses. Their eyes bored into him like his captor's mystical fingers, probing and teasing...scraping and impaling, giving the very sickening sensation that someone had taken hold of his innards, as through an open wound, and were stroking things which should never be touched.

 

Above all, a foulness surrounded him...penetrated him...filled his every pore and orifice, until he felt literally unclean. That he could never be free of this taint, no matter how he might bathe or frantically abrade himself to remove it. He felt violated, in every sense of the word, and it drew at last from his throat a strangled, shrieking scream—then another, and another, echoing and resounding in Chorh-Gom's empty vaults and tunnels.

 

What was worst of all was, on some level...buried deep down where he refused to see it...a part of him enjoyed it.

 

Hatred boiled up within him, pure and surging like an avalanche on the slopes without—not directed at the wicked being torturing him, but at Tai Lung. It was _his_ fault, all of it! It was because of his rampage Vachir had been relegated to worthless guard duty for twenty years instead of being out there, defending China and protecting the people as he had sworn to do. The snow leopard was the one who had murdered his platoon, his kinsmen. It was him that this bastard wanted, it was for his sake he was being subjected to this horrific fate. He would not even be here for the creature to attack if not for Tai Lung...

 

And it was this burning desire for revenge, this unholy, obsessive wrath, that gave his captor the inroads he needed to corrupt him.

 

It started insidiously at first, a gradual darkening of his vision, a slowing of his heartbeat, and a vague sense that the connection between his body and soul was becoming attenuated. But then the pain within him...shifted, changing until it leaned toward the other end of the spectrum. The longer he experienced the shadow's touch, the better it felt—the more he wanted to give into it, to draw it into him. In fact the more time passed, the more he felt a sickening urge to smile and chuckle, to groan in appreciation, and to open his arms wide to his abuser.

 

Part of him watched this in mounting disgust and despair, but it was a very small part...the rest of him seemed to be taking control of the shadows and siphoning them in—even getting off on them. It felt like when he would lord his superiority over Tai Lung, bullying him with words as well as fists and some fairly sadistic devices. Only better—he felt a tightness in his trousers, and this time it only made him grin cruelly to himself. There was power here, power like he'd never tasted before, more than he'd ever felt even leading the Anvil of Heaven. With this, he could finally make Tai Lung pay. And if his...benefactor wished to twist the snow leopard, as he was doing to Vachir?

_Well he'll just have to get through me first. I'll lure him in, all right. But because **I** want to, not 'cause he does. No matter what he thinks, I'm still my own man...I'll use what he gives me, but fight him every step of the way so I can get just what I want._

 

The blackness swirled up around him, only this time it was his to command. As his soul suddenly snapped back into his body, a darkling aura sprang into being around him, and on some level, he felt an even deeper and more paralyzing fear as he saw that the cloaked figure had somehow moved when he wasn't looking...that it now stood directly before him, so that not even an inch separated them...and it was pressing closer, closer, grinding up against him, and then _into_ him. Merging with him. Becoming him. Burrowing in like a parasite latching its fangs into his gut. Horrifying...and yet strangely absorbing.

_One way or another_ , he thought...even as he realized his thoughts were no longer his own, that another voice echoed sometimes beneath, sometimes above his own, saying exactly the same words... _Tai Lung will be mine. He'll be mine_.

 

Unnoticed, the manacles holding him snapped free, dissolving into rust and dust as if dunked in acid—smoke rising from his wrists where the black mist had broken him loose—and he stepped forward on the ledge...gazed up toward the pinpoint of light which was the exit to the surface...and began to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another surprise! This is the last villain of my set, and as you can see he's not precisely willing, although on another level he is. 
> 
> I did a little research into mahjong to make sure I described the set correctly. Emperor Chen, I admit, was created solely because I felt so bad for what happened to the Emperor in Luna Goldsun's ["Memoirs of a Master"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4576439/1/Memoirs_of_a_Master), and the fact we never even got to meet him. (Of course then she turned around and saved one heir, and made him know kung fu too—we just kept inspiring each other.) If you want an idea what he looks and acts like...picture him as having Shang's appearance and Dalang's personality from ["That's Why They Call It the Present"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4371270/1/Thats_Why_They_Call_It_the_Present). ;) And yes, he will factor into the story later at some point.
> 
> If anyone is up on that sort of thing, two of the poems from the book of haiku (the first and third) are very well known, ancient poems by Matsuo Basho, tweaked a little so as to fit the 5-7-5 scheme in English. The second poem Mantis reads is my own invention. Three guesses what it refers to! Though apparently it's not as obvious as I first thought, and it does have a double meaning... Also, I know _The Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ was written quite a few centuries after when we've guessed KFP takes place in Chinese history—but I think it's too hard to pin down the time period, probably on purpose on Dream Works' part so that the China we see can be more representative and symbolic. And I just wanted to include a reference to it because it's so famous.
> 
> The line Tai says to Po after he wants to show the cub pic of him to the village is swiped from the ridiculous 80's film _Ice Pirates_ —about the only good thing about it, and it just seemed to fit Tai far too well. ;) And if it isn't clear, the tiles which make Tigress act like she has dust in her eyes are the same ones Shifu used to train her at Bao Gu. The bit about Tai Lung having to master 66 scrolls a year is of course simply mathematical common sense, but the idea for it originated with Luna. And finally, you may have noticed I decided to retcon a bit and say Chorh-Gom was not built specifically for Tai Lung, and when you think about it, how could it have been? A place that massive, carved out of the very rock, would have taken a long time to build. So unless Oogway prepared way ahead of time before the rampage, or Tai Lung was held somewhere else for years until it was finished, it had to already be there and simply converted into Tai Lung's prison. I'll touch on this more later in-story.


	15. Festival Forebodings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally we get to hear from Monkey. In advance, I wish to note that the hints at a further backstory I gave Monkey are from Peter the Muggle's story ["Monkey in the Middle"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4749175/1/Monkey-In-The-Middle) and used with his permission.

 

 

It took almost the entire day, even with everyone in the palace and the valley rising at the crack of dawn to begin the preparations, before the feast for the Midsummer Ghost Festival could begin. Unsurprisingly, Tai Lung was not among those assisting—because he was still so deeply affected by the contents of Oogway's secret cabinet, according to Po and Viper, but Monkey more cynically thought he simply wanted to get out of more work he considered beneath him and was using that as an excuse.

 

But for whatever reason, Shifu believed the snow leopard and let him be—though at this point, the simian didn't know why he should be surprised. The red panda seemed to have forgotten or discounted every heinous act his son had committed and was willing to forgive everything, if only he would come back to him and be the loving, devoted child he had once been.

 

Monkey felt sorry for Shifu. He truly did. He had never known their master to have any happiness, friendship, or love in his life—if such things had existed before the Furious Five began training together, or even before Tai Lung's arrival on the doorstep, he knew nothing of them, because Shifu guarded his secrets and kept them well close to his heart. So it was perfectly understandable the panda would want to get back even some semblance of the one time in his life when he had been fulfilled, happy, and at peace.

 

But even when Monkey reined in his distrust and hatred of Tai Lung to look at things more objectively, he still could not support their master's decision. Because he knew that no matter how hard Shifu tried, or how willing to cooperate the snow leopard might become, neither of them could ever bring back the feline's lost innocence, or restore the powerful bond and pure, intense love they had once shared.

 

They might, possibly, be able to forge a new relationship of respect and honor, even achieve a certain loving commitment to each other again. But the past was over and done with, and could not be reclaimed. There was far too much bad blood and animosity between them to ever be overcome...and the things of childhood could never last, even in the best of times. With this relationship, and these circumstances, it was even more impossible.

 

No, the familial love and firm, unshakable trust between them was as dead and buried as Tai Lung's cubhood, or the thousand rhinos he had killed escaping Chorh-Gom. And, Monkey privately believed, as dead as the goodness and loyalty the snow leopard had once possessed.

 

Yet as the primate somewhat distractedly and absently went through the forms with Mantis and Viper in the kwoon, as Po finished cooking up a storm in the kitchen—a feat which somehow required him to balance an eyebrow-raising number of bowls and plates, only reiterating how talented and nimble he could be when food was involved—as Tigress and Shifu meditated beside the Moon Pool, and as Crane helped the workers put more of the finishing touches on the floor and walls of the Hall of Warriors, Monkey griped and seethed to himself at how his feelings in the matter were being completely ignored.

 

Even Mantis, who normally could be counted on for support and a willing ear, seemed unusually noncommittal and uninterested in bashing Tai Lung behind his back. And Tigress, for all her rash actions, boiling hatred, and towering resentment, seemed to be gradually warming up to, or at least retracting her claws from, the spotted feline—whether she wanted to or not.

 

And that annoyed and angered him most of all. For as the eight of them gathered at the temple doors for the trek down to the village, and he eyed askance the way the snow leopard—looking oddly somber and pensive, as well as far too elegant in his umber and crimson feast-day clothes—hovered protectively close to Tigress without seeming to, Monkey was very much afraid this left her completely open and vulnerable to anything Tai Lung might try.

 

And that upset the langur so deeply...because he loved Tigress with all his heart, and always would.

 

Not in the romantic sense—at least, not anymore. When they had first met, just over ten years ago when he had first come to the Jade Palace from Sichuan, he had found even the teenage Tigress to be an alluring beauty, as well as a stunningly fast and incredibly versatile fighter. The longer he spent in her presence, whether learning from her or training at her side, the more he came to respect, admire, and eventually care for the striped feline.

 

Those feelings had eventually blossomed into love, which he had one day thoughtlessly and foolishly confessed to her while they were out having a rare quiet meal at the village teashop. To his horror, and annoyance, she had not only laughed the idea off as patently ridiculous, and patted his hand with a rather unwelcome condescension, but she'd then proceeded to explain their species were completely incompatible. And that even if they weren't, she only saw him as a brother—a very close brother, but certainly nothing deeper or more lasting than that.

 

Over the years since then, once he recovered from this blow to his ego and heart in concert, he'd gotten over the rejection, and once his ardor cooled his feelings ebbed into the same sort of brotherly comradeship Tigress had described. But that didn't stop him from carrying a torch for her, pining on the offhand chance she might one day change her mind—and regardless, it made him an extremely protective and suspicious defender of her rights and honor.

 

Not that she'd had many suitors over the years, or that the ones she did have hadn't been easily dismissed or frightened off by Tigress herself. And of course Shifu had been most men's worst nightmares when they dared to approach his precious little girl. But Monkey'd appointed himself her guardian as well, and he took his job _very_ seriously.

 

Which was why he resented, distrusted, and wanted nothing to do with Tai Lung. Being defeated and paralyzed by him was humiliating, yes. And he had no more reason than anyone else to think the snow leopard wished to turn over a new leaf, or was capable of doing so. But beyond this, he knew full well what the ex-convict wanted from Tigress, and it didn't even require the primate to think about what happened to most men in prison or the fact the feline had been isolated from female (or any) contact for twenty years.

 

Because he'd seen it in Tai Lung's eyes, heard it in his voice, and observed it in his posture when they met him at the Thread of Hope. The snow leopard had been flirting with her, attempting to seduce her! In mid-air, in public, and in front of her friends, no less.

 

He didn't know whether this was because she was the first female he'd encountered since his escape, because she was a kung fu warrior and thus the only female worthy of him in his estimation, or simply because they were both cats, but the signs had been unmistakable. Tigress, of course, had been oblivious to them (at least, he hoped she was), and they'd managed to defeat him, a process which had included an extremely pleasant kick (from Monkey's point of view) right to the chest.

 

But after they had all been paralyzed, and Tai Lung had stared down at their crumpled forms contemptuously before racing off on all fours again for his meeting with destiny, Monkey had been afraid for a few horrified moments that the snow leopard would take advantage of Tigress's frozen body.

 

And now that he was in their midst again...walking and talking and living amongst them...the simian was very much worried it would go even further than that. When Po had first come to them in the kitchen and told them how he had tried to befriend his enemy, Monkey had not been particularly concerned, only mildly distressed. At that point, he'd been certain the arrogant warrior would never accept forgiveness from his father, or to return to his old home, become one of a team of equals, and serve beneath Shifu's command again, no matter what the panda promised. Not to mention Tigress had been practically guaranteed to cut out his organs and bleed him dry if he tried anything.

 

After that night in his cell, however, when she had locked herself in her room, Monkey had begun to seriously worry about what he might have said and done to her—he didn't believe she'd given herself to him (or that he had taken his pleasure from her), but obviously _something_ had happened that wasn't acceptable. And after he had taken Shifu up on his offer, and Tigress had not objected, Monkey had decided at once that if neither she nor their master could see the danger, it was up to him to intervene.

 

To drive Tai Lung away by hook or by crook...to never leave the two of them alone together for long if he could help it...and if nothing else worked, to at least keep a very close eye on them—and teach the snow leopard a lesson he'd never forget if he ever brought her any harm or tried to ravish her...

 

"C'mon, guys!" Po suddenly urged them, interrupting the well-worn tread of Monkey's thoughts. "Let's get down to the village—I worked really hard on this meal and I don't want it to get cold."

 

Hearing that, Monkey could only agree they needed to get moving—whatever else was on his mind, he did not want to miss out on the Dragon Warrior's cooking for anything, particularly when it was practically the only thing about this day he was looking forward to. And so the eight of them set off, with Shifu leading the way at his usual stately pace and the simian doing his best to insert himself between Tai Lung and Tigress as much as possible...which proved difficult since for some reason Viper kept insisting on getting there first and slithering between him and the striped feline.

 

At least they all looked fairly superb in their rich finery—trousers and long-sleeved, collared coats for all the men but Crane (who instead sported a vest while his pants were gathered up at the knee, billowing in the breeze), and a swirling, form-fitting dress with a loose train for Tigress, each matching Tai Lung's clothes in various combinations of gold and scarlet; a sleek ebony body-sleeve for Viper stitched with crimson dragons, which she had paired up with a bamboo parasol and chrysanthemums to replace her usual lotus headdress; and their names sewn in hanzi on each of their garments (inked instead on Mantis's carapace). Even Po had been wrestled into one of the formal silken shirts, while Shifu had consented to wear golden robes rather than his usual slate red (and typically dusty) set, with all their garments being loose-fitting and flowing to better cool them in the summer heat. Although of course, Monkey's appreciation of this was marred by how admiring the snow leopard was of Tigress, whenever he thought no one was looking...

 

By the time they reached the town square, it was late afternoon and approaching sunset, and the villagers were all eagerly awaiting their arrival since the preparations had already been made. In the middle of the plaza, and extending down several of the town's main streets, a series of long trestle tables had been set up—made necessary not only by the large population, but by the fact every household had to include at least one chair for their deceased ancestors and other family members.

 

Even before the Five arrived with Po's dishes, a very large spread had been laid out on the golden tablecloths, which were brought out of storage and aired out once a year. Sticks and braziers of incense had been lit everywhere, adding all manner of varied and unusual fragrances to the air, and along with the food for the living there was also arranged trays and platters of rich and exotic meals, as well as goods and possessions the dead would need in the afterlife, all formed of the local joss paper—which, unsurprisingly, was either marked with the Yin-Yang, an image of the Jade Palace, or Oogway's beneficent face.

 

After everyone had gathered around the Dragon Warrior and gratefully taken the steaming crockery from his arms to the tables, a long and sustained cheer echoed down the village streets. Everyone seemed particularly grateful to celebrate this year, perhaps because of their brush with death due to Tai Lung's escape. The snow leopard, for his part, seemed downright bemused by all the spectacle and splendor—whether he'd never been allowed to attend the festival before or simply didn't understand or care for its significance wasn't clear. But Monkey also thought he detected a definite sense of melancholy about the feline, and this brought a somewhat smug grin to his face.

_Heh. He better not be thinking we're gonna feel sorry for him, just 'cause he don't know who his family is. Bet they're rolling over in their graves, or turning their faces away from him down in the underworld, after what he did. Or maybe he's thinking how many people being honored here are dead 'cause of him? Just as long as he doesn't_ —

 

As if his thoughts had encouraged the snow leopard, Tai Lung turned morosely to Tigress and shook his head, his voice pitched low and awkward with discomfort. "I...really don't think I should be here. There are far too many here who would consider it in very poor taste, considering I'm the one who killed their families. And...I don't exactly have anyone I can honor. Or who would feel honored by my prayers."

 

"Got that right," Monkey interjected pugnaciously. Viper hissed at him, and he had to spend several minutes batting at her tail and dodging to avoid her crushing coils (and parasol).

 

Ignoring this, Po of course reached over to place a paw on Tai Lung's shoulder. "Buddy, don't talk like that. Okay, you hurt a lot of people, but you can't keep dwellin' on the past, ya know? You're doin' your best to turn your life around, that's all anyone can ask. And as for your own family...you're still their son. Wherever they are, I'm sure they still love you."

 

Tai Lung looked rather dubious about this prospect. Before he could say anything else, though, Tigress spoke up in a subdued tone. "You're also...not alone in this, Tai Lung. I don't know who my family is either, and have never been able to properly honor them."

 

"Really?" The spotted cat looked surprised—apparently Tigress's background was not one of the bits of gossip revealed to him by Vachir over the years. "And here I thought you were from a prestigious and regal family that was only too happy to send their strongest and loveliest daughter to be trained by the great Master Shifu." His tone was so oddly pitched and accented, it was hard to tell what, if any of this, was sincere and what was sardonic.

 

"Hardly." Tigress snorted and looked away. "With my luck, they'd have happily bound my feet and carted me off to marry some snobbish aristocrat, had they lived."

 

The ex-convict growled softly and cracked his knuckles ominously. "I'd _love_ to see them try!"

 

"Me too," the leader of the Furious Five purred.

 

"Me three!" Mantis and Po chorused. Tai Lung and Tigress rolled their eyes and exchanged an identical look of resignation and imposition. Monkey, who had finally managed to escape Viper's wrath by hiding on the other side of Crane (who in turn was not at all pleased at being turned into a shield), could only glare over the bird's shoulder at the two cats—further bonding between them was the last thing he wanted.

 

Luckily Shifu, who'd put his hand to his forehead in obscure pain, prevented anything more from developing by taking charge and guiding all of them to their places near the end of the largest table. There, a massive chair carved from peach wood presided at the head, standing in for the wise turtle who had been so revered and respected in the Valley—not, of course, taken from the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom, but another.

 

Whether by design or chance, the two felines were seated on either side of their master, something which soothed Monkey's ire—a little. The fact he got to sit across from them was something of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it kept him front and center to put a stop to any funny business going on...on the other hand, it forced him to be a witness to such funny business. _If they start holding paws, I've had it._

 

After Shifu had brought the people of the Valley to order, offered a brief but sincere prayer to both the gods and the ancestors, and pronounced the festival begun, everyone sat down and at once began digging into their food. Whether because they were too distracted by the meal and the music which had started up, or because they'd actually begun getting used to his presence, not many villagers seemed up in arms about Tai Lung today—at most, only eyeing him uncertainly and fearfully from time to time, but otherwise not raising any alarms or causing a commotion.

 

As a result, the festival was soon an animated, lively, and joyous affair, one in which gossip, old family stories, and fond memories were passed around in equal measure. Rather then bemoaning those whom they had lost, or dwelling on the sadness of separation, everyone in the Valley seemed focused on happiness, camaraderie, good humor, and celebration.

 

Everyone except those from the Jade Palace of course, or some of them. Viper, Crane, and Mantis at least seemed to be joining in on the fun and enjoying themselves—the serpent was happily dangling baubles and other glittering toys from the tables to awe and enchant the little ones nearby, the bird was busily creating calligraphy prayers and blessings for villagers to burn for their loved ones, and the insect was telling spooky ghost stories to anyone who would listen to him.

 

And when he wasn't entertaining the children as well with his tales of kung fu legends, Po was having a rather vigorous discussion (or was it a debate?) with his father about the merits of dim sum versus stir-fry. But Shifu, after his initial warm greetings to the Valley, remained silent and still in his chair—whether because of the painfully felt absence of Oogway, or some other distant memory from his past, Monkey couldn't say. And Tigress and Tai Lung both looked extraordinarily awkward, upset, and depressed.

 

As for Monkey himself? He was getting drunk.

 

He hadn't drunk alcohol in years, let alone completely besotted himself—not since he swore off the hard liquors, just before his brother Lei was summoned away to help fight the Manchurians and he himself came to train at the Jade Palace. (Though he could still perform Drunken Monkey style with the best of them.) Yet just now, he thought the situation warranted becoming dead to the world. He didn't know how to keep Tigress and Tai Lung apart, or his sister from being hurt by the grubby ex-convict, and no one else seemed willing to help him do so. In fact unless he missed his guess, Viper at least was actively working to actually bring them together!

 

He couldn't get rid of the snow leopard altogether unless the cat did something major to screw up his chances with Shifu—something the primate wouldn't want to have happen if it might cost someone he cared about, or the whole Valley, something dear, particularly since he still wasn't sure they could take Tai Lung on. And if matters kept going as they were, it looked like the two felines would keep growing closer together no matter what he did.

 

Case in point: when Tigress noticed he had just finished his third mug of _shaojiu_ and was about to start his fourth, the striped cat curled her lip in disgust and glared down her nose at him. "I can't believe you, Monkey! What do you think you're doing?"

 

He looked at her over the rim of his cup, his already slightly fuzzy mind trying to think of a proper response. "This's a festival, inn't it? I'm bein' festive."

 

"If that's what you call it," she sniffed. "You're going to make a fool of yourself, you know."

 

"Prob'ly."

 

"And you're going to regret it in the morning."

 

"S'pose so."

 

Growling under her breath at his apparently one-track mind, she twisted in her seat to spear Tai Lung with the same accusing gaze. "And I suppose you'll be next, hmm? A nice, long-winded, overblown contest to see just how manly you can be, by how many drinks you can hold?"

 

The snow leopard blinked, first at being singled out so unexpectedly, and then in what seemed to be genuine disbelief. He held up both paws reassuringly. "No need to embed your claws in my flesh, Master Tigress. I had no intention of doing anything of the sort. As far as I'm concerned, alcohol is a terrible poison no one in his right mind would ever want to partake of, let alone a kung fu warrior."

 

A brief silence met this declaration, as Tigress blinked several times in rapid succession, and then she actually smiled—slowly, reluctantly, but with real approval and admiration. "Well. I never thought I'd be saying this, but good for you, Tai Lung. It seems _some_ people here could learn a few things from you after all."

 

She shot Monkey another withering look, then turned back to the snow leopard with a decidedly warmer expression. He in turn seemed on the verge of clasping his paws behind his head and whistling innocently, while Shifu only raised an eyebrow curiously but said nothing.

 

Monkey felt like slamming his head into the table. Or else dunking it in a bucket of his rice wine. This definitely deserved another drink.

 

Before he could pursue either of those options, however, someone very large suddenly loomed over the table behind Tai Lung, slapping a hand on the snow leopard's shoulder. "Hey—mind if I join you?" It was the bull foreman from the Jade Palace work detail yesterday.

 

For a moment the feline seemed to debate with himself as to the merits of this request, but then he finally heaved a sigh and nodded, sliding his chair a little farther down the table—and squeezing poor Shifu in between himself and Tigress—so as to make room for the chair the bull had brought with him. "Why not...the more the merrier, or so I've heard. Any particular reason, though?"

 

The bull shrugged enigmatically, even as he turned the chair around and plopped into it, crossing his arms over the back which now pressed against his broad chest. "Not every day I get to say I shot the breeze with the Furious Five, you know? Besides, that conversation was getting boring anyway...and I've also got someone here who wants to see you again."

 

He smirked in open amusement as he tossed back his own mug of liquor—and as a small figure squeezed through the crowd to rush down the table toward them, and Tai Lung groaned under his breath, even Monkey had to laugh.

 

It was, inevitably, little Yi. For a wonder, she only gave her favorite snow leopard a brief but tight hug around the waist before clambering up into her father's lap without being told to. Of course, she kept her shining brown eyes on the ex-convict the entire time, as if waiting for just the moment or prompting to leap on him again. And that might have explained why Tai Lung rather looked like a man waiting for the inevitability of an execution.

 

Finally finding his voice, he observed, "So this little...bundle of sunshine is yours after all, hmm?"

 

"What was your first clue?" the bull asked, a smile in his voice as well as on his face. With clear and honest love in his eyes, he looked down at his daughter as he twisted sideways in the chair to make room and cradled her against his stomach. Yi, of course, looked up at him adoringly before she hid behind his arm, peering out shyly at each of the Five and their master. When she wasn't fixated on Tai Lung, she seemed fascinated by Shifu's enormous eyes and ears...apparently something which all young ones could not resist.

 

Sighing, Tai Lung shook his head as if at how he seemed to be going soft, and Monkey had to wonder if it was the liquor truly going to his head—for he swore he almost saw affection in those golden eyes. "She does certainly seem to have her father's generosity." He paused, then looked a little nonplussed. "Er...I don't even know your name, I'm afraid."

 

The bull looked startled, then annoyed at himself, before he chuckled and extended a heavy, callused hand first to Tai Lung, then Tigress and Shifu. "Shen Zhuang, at your service. Though you can call me Zhuang."

 

This announcement caused all of the Five, even Monkey, to look at him in startlement, though the snow leopard seemed the most floored. Granted, they were five (or six, depending who you counted) of the most famous and respected kung fu masters in all of China, so it would seem only natural that a laborer would defer to them and consider them more than worthy of using his first name. At the same time, though, they had only just met him yesterday, and the fact he was extending this honor to them so soon was unheard of. Either he was particularly confident in his own self to introduce himself so...or he was simply that open and honest.

 

After a few more moments of silence, Tigress finally ventured to ask a question. "So...have you been a builder long, Master Zhuang?"

 

"All my life," he replied, sounding both proud and matter-of-fact about it. "Been in the family for generations. Can't be sure, but I think one of my ancestors helped Grand Master Oogway design and build the Jade Palace. Or maybe he just really marveled at its craftsmanship? Anyway, there're lots of pictures of it on my walls back home. And either way...I'm glad to have helped fix the place up again."

 

He paused, then pursed his lips at Tai Lung and reached over to poke him in the chest. "Doesn't mean I want to make a habit of it, though. I hope you aren't gonna be crashin' the place again anytime soon."

 

Each of them exchanged awkward looks, but amazingly, Tai Lung actually chuckled and held his paws up in a gesture of surrender. "What, so I can have the pleasure of repairing it twice? I don't think so...besides, I never meant to...harm it so." His voice dropped, the good humor turning to something akin to...nostalgia? "It was my home, once. Too many memories there, that I'd ever want to destroy the place."

 

Monkey, becoming steadily more tipsy with every minute, snorted and tried to object in no uncertain terms to this ridiculous claim, but unfortunately at that moment his body decided to rebel with a bout of hiccups.

 

"Good for you," the bull said, without a trace of irony and a very clear sense of propriety. "Though I meant what I said, you did an incredible job yesterday. I don't think even Wei could've carried as much as you did. Maybe you missed your calling?"

 

Again, everyone froze, eyes flicking from Zhuang to Tai Lung—all of them filled with trepidation except for Tigress, who merely watched intently, and Monkey, who had to clap both hands over his mouth to hold back his gleeful guffaws. _He's gonna blow, I know it! No way he'll ever live that down..._

 

Except, after breathing deeply in and out to maintain his calm, and forcing down the surge of fury that made him bulge the muscles of his shoulders and arms, the snow leopard somehow did not give in to his temper. Instead, albeit with a rather dark tone, he only said, "I'll take that in the spirit I hope it was meant—as Master Shifu can attest, I've always been strong, but I'd hope you didn't mean I should spend my life as a stone-hauler."

 

Zhuang, who'd paused to take another swig from his mug, almost choked and had to have his back pounded by Tigress before he could breathe properly again. When he could speak again, rather hoarsely, he gasped, "No, of course not! I just meant, you'd be a great builder. You've got the strength and stamina for it, and you're damn smart, too. From what I know of ya, you could be and do anything if you put your mind to it. With the talent you showed, putting those doors together, you'd be wasted just dragging wheelbarrows around." He paused again, then added, "Actually, I've been looking for an apprentice for some time now. Interested?"

 

Now it was Monkey's turn to inhale his _shaojiu_. He didn't know which stunned him more—someone actually offering the snow leopard a job and a chance to learn a craft other than kung fu, or the even greater likelihood of a vicious tirade from Tai Lung. As much as anyone else, the simian knew the ex-convict still had his heart set on being the greatest kung fu warrior in China (save Po), and he wasn't about to give that up even for a possibly lucrative career in construction—even assuming he could swallow his pride to take such a lowly position in society.

 

Yet somehow, again, Tai Lung surprised, and angered, him. For after a silence during which he gazed down alternately at his plate and his paws, as if contemplating what else they could do besides break bones and paralyze opponents, the feline looked up with an inscrutable expression. "I...I'm afraid I have to decline, Master Zhuang. At least for now. I still don't know what my place will be, what I can make of myself. I...I need to finish my training with Master Shifu, see where it leads me. Then...once I know all my choices, maybe I can reconsider. But I have to be sure of myself first."

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Monkey noticed Shifu's eyes widening, then lidding again while a small warm smile turned up the corners of his mouth. The primate, though, was grinding his teeth impotently.

 

"Okay," the bull said easily, companionably, as he ruffled his daughter's hair and gave her a brief tickle, making her giggle. "Offer's always open."

 

After that, somehow, the builder seemed to become invited into their circle as if he'd been their friend for years. Shifu questioned him closely on his knowledge of construction techniques and proper materials, and while Monkey highly doubted the red panda knew what the right answers should be, he seemed satisfied he'd chosen well for his foreman—and the primate himself knew they _were_ all the right answers.

 

Tigress had already met little Yi, and both she and Viper were falling for the darling girl rather swiftly. Po, who seemed to love everyone he met unconditionally, had his loyalty cemented for life when Zhuang gave effusive and genuine compliments to all the panda's dishes in the feast. Crane seemed to admire him for his rock-steady calm, while it turned out the bull and Mantis shared the same naughty and irreverent sense of humor.

 

This became abundantly clear at Tai Lung's expense, one of the few high points of the evening as far as Monkey was concerned. Having been asked by the snow leopard to recount his memories of growing up in the Valley—perhaps, in an odd and futile way, to recover the years he had missed while in prison, since Zhuang had been born only a year or two before the rampage—the bull had no problem describing the simple and bucolic lifestyle of the Valley of Peace with an affection and contentment that were quite real.

 

But when he noted, off-handedly, that his first introduction to carpentry had been at the age of two or three, when he'd been determined to aid his father in his workshop...and that the project in question had been rebuilding the village after Tai Lung nearly destroyed it, the snow leopard had interrupted an amusing story of Zhuang trying to manage a hammer almost as tall as himself to sigh despondently and mutter to himself about the pain and heartache he had caused.

 

Monkey was about ready to smack the maudlin feline, but Zhuang got there first—jabbing Tai Lung in the ribs and then swatting him on the shoulder. "Oh, come _on_ , man! Lighten up, would you? Keep up all that moaning and groaning, and I'm gonna start thinking you're opening up a brothel!"

 

Dead silence met that comment, and then Mantis burst out laughing uproariously, closely followed by Monkey. Viper blushed deeply, while Tigress only rolled her eyes in disgust. And after a few moments, even Tai Lung had to shake his head and chuckle sheepishly to himself at his ridiculous attitude bringing down everyone else at the table.

 

"Don't get your tail in a twist," the bull continued at last after all the laughter had died down. "Like I already said...the only way you and the rest of us will ever get past what happened is if we move on. Yeah, it was an awful thing, for everyone. But we've got to let it go." He lifted his glass to drain the dregs of his drink.

 

"Oh really?" a soft, cold voice said from behind him. "So good to know you've decided everything for the rest of us…when you never even lost anyone in that vicious attack. _We_ actually know what it is to suffer and grieve."

 

Even Monkey, who had been hoping and praying for something to finally happen to put a stop to the constant comforting of Tai Lung—did everyone forget he was the one who actually killed people here?—couldn't help but stiffen at the hatred in that voice. And when they all turned as one to see who had approached them, both Tigress and Tai Lung blanched, their faces flat with shock.

 

The langur didn't know why, other than that they apparently knew the cow woman standing in front of them...and from the look on her face, he didn't want to know her. Though dressed in festival finery like everyone else in the village, something about her made her stand out from the rest of the crowd. Maybe it was her vicious, enraged stare, quite at odds with the frolicking and merriment on everyone else's faces...

 

Unsurprisingly, she was directing most of her ire at Tai Lung—but also, strangely, Zhuang. Glancing at the bull, Monkey didn't know whether to be amused or feel sorry for him, for he had cringed back and shrunk down in his seat, futilely attempting to look small, as a flush of shame stained his cheeks crimson. That, coupled with the excited glow of eagerness on little Yi's face, identified the woman even before she spoke again—in an overly sweet voice laced with venom. "So...and what, may I ask, brings you here in such...interesting company, honored husband?"

 

Zhuang flinched, then forced a sheepish smile onto his face. "Oh…um, sorry everyone. This is my wife, Xiulan. Loveliest blossom this side of the Valley, aren't you, dear?"

 

To her credit, the bovine succeeded in adopting a respectful and appropriately deferential air as she bowed in acknowledgment to each of the seated masters—a trifle lower and less perfunctory for Tigress and Viper. But after Shifu had nodded to her and absently murmured his greetings, she immediately fixed her gaze on Zhuang again, clearly not letting him off the hook. "I'm still waiting."

 

"Well...er...I _was_ helping with the repair work and reconstruction of the Jade Palace. I got to work in pretty close quarters with the Five, and Master Shifu selected me personally to be the new foreman after Wei...threw his weight around one too many times. So...I've been thanking them for giving me a chance, and getting to know them."

 

"Yes, that's wonderful news," Xiulan replied rather testily, as if she couldn’t care less at her husband being given such an auspicious and noteworthy contract at which he could excel. "But why are you here with _him_?" And she stabbed a finger at the snow leopard.

 

"Mama!" Yi chose that moment, the worst one possible, to chirp in excitedly. "Look, look! I got a kitty!" And she scrambled down from her father's lap to leap into the ex-convict's.

 

Tai Lung groaned and shaded his eyes with one paw, but being clung to was the least of his concerns. For as soon as she saw her innocent daughter in such close proximity to the scourge of the Valley, the cow swept along the table with shocking speed, reaching down and snatching Yi up into her arms. "What did I tell you?" Her voice shook, with fear as well as anger. "You _mustn't_ go near him! Listen to Mama, he is bad, he will hurt you if you let him touch you, and I don't want to _ever_ see you with him again! Is that clear?"

 

Yi struggled in her mother's grip, huge tears welling up in her eyes even as she set her chin stubbornly and glared up as only a toddler could. "No! He's a _nice_ kitty, I know he is! He played with me, he never hurt me…"

 

Xiulan's jaw dropped, and somehow she looked even more terrified and hateful as she backpedaled away from the table. "What is she...how _dare_ you! What did you do to her, you monster...!"

 

Holding up both paws in a calming gesture, Tai Lung started to rise from his chair. "Now, now, madam, I can assure you, I never laid a—"

 

"Get away from me!" the cow shrieked, her voice carrying down the table and through the town square until every villager at the festival froze in place, their conversation dying into a fearful silence as every eye turned their way. "You are a menace, and I will _not_ let you hurt my little girl! If you try, you'll have to go through me first!"

 

Now it was Tigress who was rising, looking more uncomfortable and conciliatory than Monkey had ever seen her. "Wait...wait a minute, Mrs. Shen. It's not what you think. Tai Lung was only at the daycare, helping me look after the children—"

 

" _What_? You let him near our...how _could_ you? What sort of protector _are_ you, Master Tigress?"

 

As the striped feline fell back aghast at this onslaught, the rest of the Five (minus Monkey) and Shifu tried to stand up for her, and the entire head of the table dissolved into a rapid-fire, increasingly unrestrained argument.

 

"Now that is unfair," Viper protested. "Tigress has been here, guarding and defending this valley, for over ten years, and she's never let the people down before!"

 

"That's a matter of opinion," Xiulan sniffed. "She couldn't even stop him at the Thread of Hope when she had the four of you to back her up. Maybe she wanted him to get into the Valley—or she was in league with him?"

 

"What the—lady, you are _way_ off-base!" Mantis hopped up onto the table, and whether by instinct or conscious choice, his pincers were poised for combat.

 

"Am I? I know I was wrong to trust her with our children!"

 

Tigress, who normally would have been flying into a rage about now, could only stare at the cow with a blatantly injured look—in fact she looked enough like a cub being chastised by its mother that Monkey finally staggered to his feet to come to her defense, too. "What're you talkin' 'bout? Master Tigress's like a...like a...like a mother tiger wit' those kids. Won't let anythin' happen to 'em...dat wuz a mortal insult, now ya gotta fight her. Or me." He balled his fists and cracked his knuckles suggestively.

 

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," Master Shifu cut in soothingly. "This is all just a big misunderstanding, and I'm sure Mrs. Shen will apologize immediately. Won't you?"

 

"Apologize for what?" the cow sneered. "The truth hurts, doesn't it? And anyway, you're one to talk, when you let that mad killer stay here. Maybe it's your turn to go senile now?"

 

At this latest sally, everyone started talking at once—even Tai Lung—demanding that she take back her harsh words and show proper respect to the master of the Jade Palace. Yi was crying, Zhuang looked as if he wanted to sink through his chair straight down into Di Yu, and his wife's voice was becoming ever more strident and ringing with vindication.

 

Then, just as everyone's tempers were reaching a fever pitch, a large, black-furred fist slammed down on the table with such force and suddenness it made all the dishware rattle and startled everyone into silence.

 

" _HEY_!" Po glared belligerently around the table, a fire in his eye and a fierceness in his expression that none of them had ever seen before. "Now that's enough of that! You're all actin' like children, an' I ain't puttin' up with it anymore. So everyone just calm down, stay quiet, an' listen…or else the next one t' say something's gonna get sat on. And don't think I won't know. I can hear a butterfly's wings, y'know."

 

At any other time, Monkey would have laughed, and he didn't think he was the only one, but at the moment they could only step back, slowly sit down, and eye the Dragon Warrior with a new appreciation.

 

Once all was quiet again, the panda took a deep breath, then let it out gradually to expel his anger, just as Shifu had taught him. Then he looked at Mrs. Shen. "Now. What's got you so bent out of shape, ma'am? Why've ya got such a mad-on against Tai Lung?"

 

Xiulan looked as if she were chewing rocks, or else simply stunned Po wasn't seeing the obvious answer. Finally she said, bitterly, "He killed my first husband, twenty years ago."

 

Again, everyone was quite silent at this declaration. Monkey didn't know what everyone else was thinking, but to him at least everything suddenly made perfect sense. Not that he was ready to forgive those insults to Tigress and Shifu, but her attack on Tai Lung was now completely justified in his mind.

 

Of course some of the others didn't seem to think so. Viper lowered her head, her expression crestfallen, but she didn't turn on the snow leopard the way Monkey wished she would, and even Shifu, whose gaze briefly turned flinty, shook his head after a few moments and let the matter go. Po, naturally, wasn't even fazed, although his voice did turn softer, more soothing. "All right, okay. I read ya. But I bet you he's sorry for it now...aren't you, Tai?"

 

For a few moments the snow leopard looked as if a slug had crawled into his mouth, though whether because he wasn't sorry at all, he didn't like having to apologize to this woman, or he just hated being put on the spot like this wasn't clear. But then at last, diffidently, he said, "Yes. I regret a lot of things about that day. And his death was...particularly unnecessary. I'm sorry."

 

With barely a pause to consider his apology, the bovine turned away with her nose elevated. "Words. It's actions I'm looking for...and there's nothing you can do to change what you did."

 

Very softly, Tai Lung said as he sat back down in his chair, "Yes...I know."

 

Yet another silence settled over the table, other than the wind whistling down the streets and setting the lanterns to swinging, making weird shadows dance over the square as if the night that had descended on the town were creeping out of hiding to swallow them all. Then at last, Mrs. Shen stood up straight, cradled her still softly weeping daughter against her chest, and said firmly, "In any case...I am going home now, Zhuang. You had better be following me within a very short time, or I make no promises what kind of reception you'll be getting." A very stiff nod to Shifu, the Five, and the Dragon Warrior, only the barest minimum of honor given...and then without another look at Tai Lung, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

 

Slowly, unevenly, the conversation of the villagers began again, though much more subdued and lacking the boisterous air from before. Someone—he thought it was Master Shifu—let out a very soft, resigned sigh, and then only the sound of scraping chair legs on stone and utensils on plates could be heard. No one seemed to know what to say, and nothing really could be said. Monkey opened his mouth to muster up something anyway—a few choice names to call the woman, but also a suggestion that she had the right of it when it came to the ex-convict—except what came out was a very loud, crass, rude belch.

 

There was a pause. Then Tai Lung said dryly, "My sentiments exactly, Master Monkey." While everyone laughed at the tension-breaker, albeit nervously or uncertainly, the snow leopard turned to Zhuang and continued. "No offense, but I think your wife may have been who they had in mind when they invented the phrase 'ball and chain'."

 

"None taken," the bull mumbled, still looking down at his plate while he interlaced his hands together, twisting them about as if they were caught in a finger-puzzle. "I can't apologize enough for her behavior. She's a good woman really, and I love her very much...but she's been through a lot, and whenever something like this crops up and she really gets going, well..." He sighed again, then winced. "I hate to leave like this, but if I don't..."

 

"You'll be sleeping on the couch tonight?" Mantis said shrewdly.

 

"Something like that. It was nice meeting you all...and I hope to see you again under better circumstances." He got up from his chair, turning it about and putting it gently back against the table as if it were a fragile piece of artwork. But before he could leave, Po called out to him.

 

"Hey...maybe, uh...maybe this is kinda personal, but...with what happened to your wife an' all...why _did_ ya decide t' reach out t' Tai? Since, um, that sure ain't gonna make things easy for ya at home."

 

Zhuang paused and looked back, and rather than offended he had a small smirk on his face. "Like I said...all that happened twenty years ago. And it wasn't me who died...it was a guy I didn't even know. Hell, if I were a bastard, I could be thanking Tai Lung for killing him, since I couldn't be married to Xiulan otherwise." Monkey privately had to wonder if the bull should be resenting the snow leopard instead for making that possible.

 

"But the simple fact is, she's right: I never lost anyone in the rampage, I was only two at the time so I barely even remember it. Makes it a lot easier to forgive, you know? And anyway...he did his time, twenty years of it. I think it's about time he gets a chance to have a life again, and see if he can do things right this time."

 

Tai Lung stirred, glanced at Po. "So...you never hated me, or thought I was evil?"

 

"I didn't say that. But there was someone who set my head straight on that one, and reminded me of something really important...something I wish my wife could remember. That those who are free of resentful thoughts will surely find peace. And holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned."

 

"Who was it who told you that?" The snow leopard sounded like he already knew the answer.

 

"Master Oogway." And with those words, and a small, sad smile, the bull headed off into the village in the direction his family had gone.

 

Those were also the last words spoken for the next several hours, other than occasional requests to pass an item. While it was not as taboo as at the start of the New Year, it did feel rather inauspicious to have such an argument on a festival day, and Po at least seemed worried that the ancestors might have overheard and disapproved, or evil spirits could have been drawn to them. Add in the awkwardness of the encounter and Tai Lung still seeming floored by the fact Zhuang was willing to be his friend...and Oogway himself, even during the years of his imprisonment, had been planting the seeds of forgiveness and acceptance...and it was no wonder no one knew what to say, or felt anything could be said. As it was, the festival itself did seem to be rather ruined now, at least for those from the Jade Palace.

 

Finally, after they could no longer pretend they had any appetite left and the darkest portion of night had settled over them with the extremely late hour, everyone decided almost en masse that it was time to finish the last rituals of the festival and then get back to the temple immediately. The first part of this, the burning of the joss paper possessions so they could be transported to the next world, was over relatively quickly, but the second part required all of them, as well as the villagers, to travel to the lakeshore at the edge of town, there to light and set asail the paper lanterns which would, if the gods were willing, bring guidance and hope to their lost loved ones.

 

The offerings from each of them varied—Crane only had one boat, for a maiden aunt he had been quite fond of who had died just before he first started working at Li Dai, while Viper had a pair for her revered grandparents. Shifu, as reticent and laconic as ever, only admitted under duress that his lanterns were for his parents and older siblings, who had died long ago—how, he refused to say—and one other whose recipient he would not name at all. Mantis, humorously enough, had an entire fleet of them (since, as he said, insects tended to have very large families), and the majority seemed to be for his male relatives...

 

As for the three orphans, Po didn't hesitate to light candles for his parents—since, as he said with his unusual mix of practical wisdom and simple honesty, it didn't matter to him he didn't know their names or who they really were; he could honor them just the same. Exchanging a look at this, Tigress and Tai Lung nodded in unison and followed his lead, kneeling by the lakeshore together to release their four boats to sail out alongside one another.

 

The two felines, in fact, were quite close themselves, leaning in to whisper and murmur under their breaths...seeing this, Monkey glared furiously at the snow leopard's backside, strongly tempted to put him back in his place again. _Maybe he the one who should go home without his pants, huh?_

 

Unfortunately he couldn't act on that admittedly happy thought, since he was currently being held up by the coils of Viper, to keep his drunken form from falling in the water while he put down his own lanterns—for his parents, long dead before the war, and his old uncle, one he remembered with amusement as an eccentric scholar of arcane learning and kung fu skill alike...one whose answer to any problem or situation had always been, "Must do research!"

 

Together, all of their lanterns joined those set adrift by the other villagers...together forming a vast carpet of golden light, streaming and flowing out across the darkened waters of the lake, as if opening a pathway to the next life...a winding road which extended infinitely into the distance until it vanished from mortal sight. A silent procession that crossed the open boundary between life and death. Or maybe he'd just been drinking too much.

 

The gathering began to break up, with the villagers returning to their homes while the Five, Po, Shifu, and Tai Lung headed back for the stairs to the Jade Palace. As they reached the moon bridge which led there, however, Monkey turned away to stagger back toward the village square. Everyone looked after him quizzically, but it was Po who actually had the gumption to call out to him. "Hey, Monkey? Where're you goin'? I know ya been drinkin' an' all, but...home is that way."

 

Rolling his eyes, the primate leaned against one of the _shi_ lions guarding the entrance of a nearby restaurant. "I know dat, Po. Just goin' back for a li'l more drink, t' tide me through th' night."

 

The panda frowned worriedly. "Are you sure? It's...it's getting pretty late. Aren't you worried about wandering spirits?"

 

"Or passing out in the street?" Tigress quipped, a definite edge to her voice.

 

Monkey glared at both of them in equal measure. "Don't tell me you still b'lieve those old bedtime stories? I don't t'ink there's gonna be any dead people out tryin' t' take over my body tonight. An' I can hold my liquor better'n you, Tigress!"

 

The striped feline bristled, but before she could say more Shifu gently put a hand on her leg and she froze docilely beside him. "Considering this is the first time in years you've sampled it, I think I can trust you to make it back to the temple on your own. But do be quick about it, Monkey; with or without ghosts, the sooner you get back the better. Because if you think I'm going to be easy on you tomorrow, well..." The grin he gave was decidedly wintry.

 

Grumbling under his breath, the langur hurried as fast as his staggering gait would allow him to through the village streets back to the main plaza—not because he was afraid of being caught without gifts to propitiate the spirits, or because of Shifu's threat, but because he'd much rather be curled up with his bottle someplace warm.

 

Unsurprisingly, when he got back to the trestle tables, most if not all of the festivalgoers were gone, leaving only some very tired-looking temple guardsmen and messenger birds to clean up the mess and put away all the dishes and uneaten food. It took him several minutes to figure out a foolproof way to slouch and gyrate down the table without falling over every other step, and about ten or fifteen minutes more before one of the pigs, either taking pity on him or annoyed by his poking and scrounging, asked what he was looking for.

 

Upon being told, the guard considered, then handed him a large earthenware jug from a nearby stall, telling him it was some imported drink from Japan known as sake, and swearing by it when it came to drowning your troubles and helping you forget. Patting the pig on the shoulder in a comradely way, Monkey thanked him with slurring speech, promising to make it worth his while later—if not with money, then with some repair work on his roof or maybe an acrobatic performance for his children. Then he started back.

 

Taking a different route on a whim (or, if he were honest with himself, because he couldn't quite remember how he got there), the golden simian sampled the sake and indeed found it to be potent stuff, something that could probably knock out an elephant—or Tai Lung, if the elitist snow leopard weren't so 'perfect' as to be above that sort of thing. Back in his drunkard days, Monkey could have handled the drink easily, but now he knew well enough to take it in small doses, at least until he became accustomed to it.

 

As he lowered the jug, smacked his lips in satisfaction, and tied his belt around its neck, he thought he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye. Jerking his head that way, he saw nothing, only the shadow of a tree shifting back and forth across a house front as the wind tossed it. Shrugging, he then began humming to himself as he reeled down the road, along a sharply angled, narrow alley, then back into another street. He stopped again, however, when he thought he _heard_ something and turned to look.

 

Again, nothing...except for a few lonely lighted windows, this section of town was completely dark, the streets empty except for himself, and the only sounds he could hear were wind chimes tinkling, leaves rustling on the cobblestones, water rippling softly in the darkness, and his own breathing.

 

Once more he returned to his circuitous path through the town, trying very hard not to trip over his own feet, as well as to ignore the ambiguous shadows cast by the flickering flames of the lanterns suspended here and there on eaves and _dougongs_ , creating wan pools of light at each street corner. He was almost back to the moon bridge (at least, he thought he was), when he was certain he heard a noise this time—coinciding with an odd flicker in the shadows which was not made by the tossing of the trees...for the wind had just died down.

 

Slowly, feeling the fur stand up on the back of his neck, he turned his head to peer behind him, narrowing his eyes to try and focus his hazy vision on whoever might be near. "H-hello? Who's there?"

 

No answer; only a very faint whisper of sound, followed by the creaking of a shop sign, somewhere out of sight. With only the light of the crescent moon spilling down, it was very easy for someone to be lost in the shadows...and no matter how he strained, he could hear nothing...just the distant moaning of the wind down another alley, the settling of stone...

 

"All right, I know you're there. Who are you? Whaddaya want? You wanna rob me? Better be careful; I know kung fu!" _Damnit. Could you **be** any more dumb? Of course he knows that. Wouldn't be followin' you unless he knew who you were. Or did you forget you're in the Furious Five?_

 

Still no answer, although he could have sworn he heard a low chuckle, deep and amused, on the breeze before it died away.

 

For several more long, unsettling minutes, he continued to stare behind him, trying to see anything out of the ordinary, anything at all. Finally, when his eyes ached as much as his head throbbed with the sake, Monkey uneasily and warily turned back to face the Jade Mountain again, leaving the deserted street behind him. _Lettin' all those ghost stories Wen used to tell go to my head...and listenin' too much to Po..._

 

He had just turned a corner into another alley, and glanced once more behind him, when someone or something loomed up ahead of him and he ran headlong right into it. He had a confused impression of blackness and size, of a swirling cloak and what he could have sworn were shadows flowing and melding together like pooling ink to rise up in a monstrous silhouette above him, of a flash of sinister red.

 

Then something seemed to enervate him, sapping all the strength from his limbs, and Monkey collapsed on the ground—a dark haze overlying his vision, washing the world away in an impenetrable veil of mist, and he knew no more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, one of the big unanswered questions of my fic, "Why is Monkey so dead-set against Tai Lung?" has been resolved. Wonder how many of you were actually surprised by it? :P
> 
> Viper's parasol and the black body-sleeve with the dragons is a reference to one of her early character designs in _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_. And the golden robes Shifu is wearing are those Christopher Lautrette drew on a bear used as an early inspiration for Po. My usage of this book can take on subtle aspects as well. ;)
> 
> More names again: Shen Zhuang's name is not based off of Jiao Shen from Luna's ["That's Why They Call It the Present"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4371270/1/Thats_Why_They_Call_It_the_Present)...I chose it solely based on its meaning (robust, eh? Good description of the old buff tiger! Though it seems it also means "deep thinker", which certainly fits the bull). Zhuang means strong, and Xiulan means elegant orchid. (Hence the shout-out when he compares her to a lovely bloom.) So now you've met the whole family, gotten to know Zhuang...and seen where I intend to take the conflicting opinions on Tai Lung. The argument seen here, sadly, is only the beginnings of the troubles with the Shen family I'm afraid. And for all her bitterness, Xiulan has some points. On a side note, I do intend to address the age difference between the two bovines, but for now I'll just point out that a lot of men likely died during Tai Lung's rampage, thus leaving Xiulan with very few her age to choose from when it came time to wed again. And if older men can marry young women, why not the reverse? The Valley seems fairly progressive.
> 
> The lines Zhuang says Oogway said to him are, of course, taken from Buddha—it only makes sense the old turtle would know and quote the Enlightened One. For those of you paying very close attention, the part with Shifu's boats on the lake is indeed a reference to Luna's "Memoirs", with the recipient of the boat he refused to identify being Yeying. I couldn't help wanting to connect to that story (as well as Peter's) because they are both so good—I love the idea of all of our stories existing in the same universe. Obviously, this was also used with Luna's permission.


	16. Common Bonds

 

The next morning, Monkey had locked himself in his room, refusing to come out and moaning through the door, when they pressed him, to go away and make sure Mantis didn't walk so loudly through the bunkhouse—something which surprised no one who'd seen him at the festival. Po, who had never been one to drink and was now even more determined never to start, observed this and then quietly resolved to find any stores of alcoholic beverages there might be in the Jade Palace and hide them where the simian would never think to look...in his room, for example, or Viper's.

 

Thankfully the lack of the primate's assistance at this juncture was not particularly critical, since the majority of the repair work had already been accomplished. In fact, Shifu instructed the rest of the Five to return to training in the kwoon, so that he could instead supervise Tai Lung and the Dragon Warrior as they put the final finishing touches on the Hall of Warriors.

 

None of the other kung fu masters seemed to mind, except for Viper who, every time the panda glanced at her, had a very introspective and even calculating look on her face. Which made him a little uneasy. The serpent was easily the nicest, sweetest, and most good-natured member of the Five...so when _she_ started looking sneaky, you knew you were in trouble...

 

In actuality, there really wasn't much labor to be done in the Hall of Warriors; Po wasn't sure if Shifu was just killing time until he figured out the next step in his, er, unusual lesson plan, or if he only wanted to limit the amount of time Tai Lung spent with the Five. He did have to feel sorry for Tai Lung though, being put through this befuddling and off-putting training—even if it were exactly what the doctor ordered as far as the snow leopard was concerned, the panda was fairly certain this new way of teaching dated from Shifu learning to think outside the box...and that was entirely due to the Dragon Warrior requiring a different approach, in which case this whole thing was somehow Po's fault.

 

But he didn't complain, and not just because he was enjoying every moment he spent with his former enemy. The Hall of Warriors was still his favorite place on the mountain, and he didn't think he'd ever get tired of staring at the artifacts he found here, drinking in their rich history. Whether Tai Lung was still so affected by them (aside from the Urn of Whispering Warriors) he couldn't say, but the feline did at least seem somewhat reverent as he finished setting to rights the mess he'd created. Days before he had jerked the sword from the floor so it could be placed back on the weapons rack and flexed the powerful muscles of his arms and shoulders to yank the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass from the pillar so it could be gently placed back in its stand, so that instead he now passed the time attending to those items by polishing their surfaces and smoothing out any rough edges, as well as checking to make sure no pieces of Master Flying Rhino's armor had fallen off during the battle.

 

He even clambered up on a ladder with a broom to sweep the tapestries and paintings adorning the walls, despite the fact Po was pretty sure none of them were harmed in the fighting and Shifu was just taking advantage of his new indentured servant to get some free dusting in the bargain. Po had to hold that ladder in place, not because it was rickety but because it was in danger of toppling over whenever Tai Lung sneezed uncontrollably...which was often.

 

Finally, after the third such fit in as many minutes, the panda called out to him. "Hey, Tai, why don'tcha let me get up there to finish that? I don't want ya to hurt yourself."

 

"I think I can handle a little fall from a ladder, panda," the snow leopard growled resentfully, yet he was down on the floor again with very little in the way of protest. Sometimes Po thought he objected to things just to be contrary, or to keep from appearing too docile and compliant, rather than because he didn't actually want to do them or see the wisdom in them. Sometimes he also wondered if that were something unique to Tai Lung, a trait all cats shared, or even something he'd absorbed as a cub after watching Shifu—a thought he kept very much to himself.

 

As the Dragon Warrior picked up where the ex-convict had left off, running the bristles of the broom along the top rail of the painting of Jin Hu, the Iron Ox (the one he'd only seen copies of), he noticed Tai Lung erecting the collapsed brazier near the temple doorway and re-hanging the lantern which had hung above it, now sporting a new, un-smashed globe, and that thought reminded him of something Shifu had mentioned to him. "Uh, Tai? Got a question for ya. Kind of a kung fu question."

 

Golden eyes gazed up at him flatly for a moment from beneath heavy brows, and then the snow leopard sighed and leaned back against the pillar, crossing his arms and smirking sarcastically. "Fine, ask away. All my knowledge of the thousand scrolls lies at your disposal."

 

"Well..." He didn't know how to ask this, since it would bring up bad memories of the Dragon Scroll, his humiliating defeat, and the years of pain he'd felt at being denied his destiny. "When you were fightin' Master Shifu...he said ya knocked over those lanterns there, and ya...scooped up the fire, swingin' it around in your paws while ya struck at him."

 

A closed look appeared on his face, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking, though when he spoke his voice was rather uneven. "Is there a question in there?"

 

Po nodded. "How'd ya do that? Especially without gettin' burned?"

 

He expected the snow leopard to either start bragging about the amazing feats of kung fu that only a true master such as he could attain, or kindly suggest it was none of the panda's business. Instead, he became absolutely quiet. Sweeping away the last of the cobwebs, Po turned and looked down to discover Tai Lung standing right where he'd last seen him, not having moved a muscle—and to the panda's startlement, he actually looked genuinely, and completely, confused.

 

"You know, panda...I really don't know." He sounded both mystified, and extremely annoyed at being caught in ignorance. "I...I wasn't even thinking, at the time. I was angry, I wanted Shifu to hurt as much as he'd ever hurt me, so I came at him with everything I had. I just...did what felt right, and somehow it happened. I can't explain it better than that."

 

Some might have been displeased with that answer, but Po thought he understood. During his fight with Tai Lung, he'd done all kinds of things which Shifu hadn't taught him at Wu Dan Mountain, things he didn't even know could be done until he did them—things which, he guessed, the Dragon Scroll had enabled him to do once he truly believed in himself. So he knew how it was, to perform some absolutely cool maneuver and not even know how to explain it to yourself afterward, let alone anyone else.

 

The fact Tai Lung could be the same way might just be because this sort of thing was true of all great kung fu warriors—not that Po felt he could ask the Five, since it might seem like belittling their skills or asking about a trade secret—or it could be because the snow leopard was just that amazing. Either way, it only made him all the more impressed by the feline...and all the more stunned (and grateful) that he'd been able to defeat him before.

 

He didn't get a chance to say anything else, though, because at that moment a diffident cough came from the nearby passageway, and both of them suddenly noticed Master Shifu standing there. The red panda must have overheard at least some of their conversation since he was peering intently at both Tai Lung and the brazier behind him. "I believe _I_ can explain it, however," he said simply.

 

When both of them looked at him expectantly, Shifu burrowed his tiny hands within his voluminous sleeves and stepped forward until he stood between the two warriors as well as the first two sets of columns, in the exact center of the entranceway. There he stopped and looked down at the marble floor. "Tell me what you see."

 

Po curiously did as instructed, since he'd never thought to examine the floor before, but Tai Lung, having lived in the palace for almost twenty years, apparently didn't even have to. "The symbols of the five elements, of course."

 

And the panda saw that he was right: just inside the doors curled the pale blue waves of Water; extending straight down the hall to dead end at the steps up to the Moon Pool was a mahogany-hued panel of whorls and swirls like the knotted grains of Wood; angling out at a sharp forty-five degrees to skewer the walls were the gray hatches and etchings of Metal filings; spreading like lily pads across the floor were the blue-green flowers which represented Earth; and just before the Moon Pool danced and twisted the orange tendrils of Fire. He felt like an absolute dunce for not having seen them before. _Some fan of the Furious Five I'm turnin' out to be. Don't even know what they've got on the floor of the Hall of Warriors!_

 

"Gotcha," he said at last, trying for a knowing tone but instead sounding more dubious than he'd have liked. "But, uh...what's that got to do with Tai's kung fu?"

 

Shifu closed his eyes for a moment, and Po groaned inwardly as he realized, once again, he'd just said something which made him sound like a total newbie. "You are aware, Dragon Warrior, that each of us has an affinity for one of the elements, based on the year in which we were born?"

 

"Uh, yeah, of course." He paused, then gasped and stared at his master with widened eyes. "Wait a minute! You don't mean a kung fu warrior can—"

 

"That is exactly what I mean." This time Shifu was looking at Tai Lung as he spoke. "While all life produces _chi_ , only those who are properly trained, such as kung fu warriors, can draw upon it to perform unique forms of fighting styles. One way this can be done—the most common way, for all that it is still quite rare, because it usually comes instinctively to students—relates to one's personal element. What Tai Lung did was redirect his own energies into the fire, to shape it, wield it, and turn it into his weapon. I'm sure you can guess which emotion he used to fuel his _chi_."

 

"Rage," the snow leopard replied, quietly.

 

Shifu nodded. "However, fear not, my student. That is not the only way in which you can control your Fire. Any extremely strong, deeply felt emotion will do. Passion, determination, courage, and yes—even love—will do it. It will take time and training, but you can learn this, Tai Lung. All those at the Jade Palace can."

 

While the feline stared at him in amazement and shock, Po was bouncing from one foot to the other, overwhelmed with giddy excitement. He'd heard stories of legendary kung fu warriors who could use their _chi_ to produce fireballs with every punch, draw moisture from the very air to strikes whips of water at their opponents, and any number of other elemental attacks. But he had never seen such things done, not even by his heroes the Furious Five, and so he'd believed them to be just that—stories. Now, however... "Oh, oh, oh! Can I learn to use fire like that, Master Shifu? Since, y'know, I'm the Dragon Warrior and all."

 

Rolling his eyes, Tai Lung looked on the verge of bopping him one on the head. "Weren't you even listening, panda? The fact you have a shiny scroll and a title has nothing to do with it. Your element will come from the year you were born." He let out a sigh of disgust. "Don't you _ever_ pay attention to your teacher? How you ever learned enough to win our battle is quite beyond me..."

 

Po might have been offended by this, if it hadn't been yet another example of Tai Lung slipping into student mode without even being aware of it. Instead the panda had to hide a grin behind his paw, then adopt a suitably crestfallen look.

 

Ignoring this exchange, the red panda only clasped his paws behind his back and nodded. "Indeed. I am not certain yet what element you are, we will have to ask your father about that one—though I have my suspicions. In any event," and here he turned back to the snow leopard again, "I have every intention of training both of you in this, and other means of employing _chi_ in combat. This was, in fact, what I was referring to when I spoke of teaching you kung fu skills which were beyond you. I'm sure you can appreciate why I didn't want to begin lessons in Fire manipulation until I was certain you had gotten control of yourself and were willing to change."

 

With that understatement, Shifu turned again to stride toward the doors. As he did so, he raised his voice to echo in the hall. "But all of these lessons must wait until we have completed your next task, Tai Lung. That is why I came here...to check and see if you were finished, which you are...and to inform you that this afternoon, once Monkey feels sufficiently recovered from his adventure, we will be setting out on a tour of the province. There are quite a number of people in need of our hospitality and assistance—the orphaned, the poor, the homeless, the hungry. I'm certain you remember Master Oogway always insisted on such excursions at least once a year when you were growing up. It is high time the practice was reinstated."

 

To Po's surprise, the snow leopard did not turn truculent or mocking at the notion of aiding those less fortunate than (or inferior to) himself. Not that he looked exactly pleased and eager to leap into action, either. If anything, the panda thought he looked...pensive. As if he still weren't certain yet what the point of this was, or what he would get out of it, but he was willing to try. Sighing softly, he pushed off from the pillar at last and began to stroll in the direction of the dormitories, but he paused once to glance back. "And what will our first stop be, Master?"

 

"The Bao Gu Orphanage."

 

Tai Lung groaned audibly.

 

Just as Shifu and Tai Lung were both almost out of earshot, Po finally found his voice to ask the question that had been burning inside him since the red panda first began discussing _chi_. "Um...Master Shifu? What element can you use?"

 

The small, robed form halted, and then the mustached face turned back to him with an amused smirk. "Why, Earth of course."

 

A snort came from the other side of the hall. "I could have told you that, panda. How else d'you explain the way he completely shattered that boulder I tossed at him?"

 

"Oh. Yeah." Once again, a sadly frequent occurrence, he felt extremely stupid.

 

"Not to mention, he's got the hardest head I've ever met. He's even more stubborn than me," Tai Lung muttered.

 

"You don't have to tell me," Po muttered back, quite fervently, as he too joined the feline in heading for the bunkhouse.

 

Behind them, Shifu cleared his throat. "Were you wanting to do your twenty laps around the mountain before we left, or after we return?"

 

Both of them looked at each other...exchanged the same worried glance...and then fled before he could give them any further punishment.

                                                                       

* * *

 

All the members of the Furious Five gathered together to join Po, Tai Lung, and Master Shifu at the head of the stairs—even Monkey, who had been made to flee his room by the threat of the other kung fu masters practicing their forms on the roof of the bunkhouse right over his head, while the Dragon Warrior played with fireworks in the bushes outside his window. And after the simian had groaned rather piteously and begged for a spare hat from Crane to shield his eyes from the afternoon sunlight, Shifu had at last led the way down the steps to begin their journey to Bao Gu.

 

Po, waddling alongside and slightly behind Tai Lung (and privately swearing he would work on his endurance training and diet as soon as possible—he was really getting tired of being out-of-breath all the time), gave the snow leopard a few odd looks as they descended the mountain. Because just before they had set out, the ex-convict had held a hurried conference with Shifu, and Po (who, um, couldn't help overhearing) had soon understood that for some reason, Tai Lung was concerned as to when they would be returning to the Valley—specifically, whether it would be before the next full moon. Shifu had reassured him that at most, they would be away for a week, which still left a good four or five days before Chang-O would grace the heavens with her presence.

 

When pressed about why he was so insistent upon returning before then, the spotted feline became rather defensive and his usual reticent self, only commenting that he had an appointment he had to keep with someone very important. Although raising an eyebrow at this, Shifu had backed down. From the looks he and the Five wore, they were obviously suspicious of him, but really, what could he possibly be plotting, when there was no one in the Valley who would help him bring further harm? When would he have had time to meet with anyone? And how could he pull off any sort of scheme when they never allowed him to go anywhere alone?

 

No...even though it was almost as impossible and hard to believe, the Dragon Warrior rather suspected Tai Lung had found a girlfriend—something which made the panda grin in unabashed delight. _About time he started livin' again! And who knows, maybe there'll be the pitter-patter of little cub feet before you know it. Wouldn't that be awesome? Kinda hard to be full of anger and dwell on the past when you've got a family to think about. And I can already see he'll be great with the kids..._

 

As they reached the foot of the Jade Mountain and, instead of crossing the moon bridge into the village, turned to follow the course of the river northwestward toward the forested hills which held the Bao Gu orphanage, Po couldn't keep his thoughts on such happy possibilities for long, though. For while both Viper and Crane succeeded in engaging Tai Lung in an animated conversation, with the snow leopard being exceedingly cordial and even bantering in friendly fashion with them, and even Mantis seemed less suspicious and distrustful of him, Monkey was of course surly and snappish—and the panda didn't think that was all due to his hangover. And Tigress...well, while she had softened considerably toward Tai Lung, she certainly hadn't let her guard down around him. Worse, ever since the daycare, the striped feline seemed to have resumed the cold resentment with which she'd first greeted Po at the Jade Palace.

 

The panda didn't understand it at all. He knew, of course, that Tigress had been angry at him for the longest time for 'stealing her thunder', and that she'd also been infuriated and contemptuous thanks to what she viewed as his complete lack of respect for the arts of kung fu. Something which had, quite frankly, made him feel two inches tall when she'd scathingly accused him of it, that night in the doorway of her dormitory room. Was it any wonder he'd been found only a short time later with his cheeks stuffed to the choking point with peaches?

 

It wasn't just that she was belittling his love of kung fu and claiming he didn't believe in what she and the Five stood for, though that was bad enough; it was that Master Tigress, who had always been his favorite, was treating him with such dismissive and callous rejection. To have her bow to him, after his defeat of Tai Lung, and call him 'Master' had made him feel bigger, stronger, and more heroic than he'd ever been in his wildest dreams, had brought him just as much happiness as hearing his father say he was proud of him. It had been the greatest day of his life.

 

And now it all seemed to have been for nothing, he was right back to square one with her. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he knew why, too. It wasn't fair! He shouldn't have to choose between them. Both Tigress and Tai Lung were worthy of honor and support, both had equally impressive lists of heroic feats as long as the Hall of Warriors. Tai Lung deserved a second chance...yet it seemed he couldn't give the snow leopard one, or prove to the feline that he had good in him, without alienating Tigress. There had to be some way to win her over, to show her Tai Lung wasn't the horrible villain she still believed him to be.

 

It was too bad she'd gut Po, or the snow leopard, if either of them made the suggestion the two felines should hook up as a couple. Because that would be the perfect way to get her to see him in a _much_ more favorable light. The thought of the likely look on Tigress's face at this prospect was rather frightening, and made him swallow hard, yet at the same time the more he thought about the possibility, the more he had to laugh out loud—at its audacity, and at his insanity in even entertaining the notion for more than a split second.

 

Unfortunately, his laughter actually had been aloud, thus causing everyone to turn and stare at him in disbelief, shock, and annoyance. Po broke off immediately, flushing in embarrassment, and clasped his paws nervously over his stomach. "Uh...sorry about that, guys. Just had a weird turn of thought, and it came out all funny-like. So...yeah." That effectively put an end to his good humor for the moment, so he retreated to the back of the group and actually remained silent for the rest of the journey.

 

In the early hours of twilight, the Jade Palace entourage finally reached the grassy plain dotted with oak trees, high up on the edge of the northern mountains, where the orphanage crouched like a squat old bullfrog. Gazing up at the circular, white-washed walls with their small, narrow windows and surmounted by roofs of gray slate, Po couldn't help but have two related, yet oddly opposed thoughts.

 

First, a slightly suspicious one directed at the back of Shifu's head, as he pondered the reason for the old master choosing this particular orphanage to visit—was he hoping someone would slip up, give away the fact Tigress grew up here, and so plant the seeds for she and Tai Lung to finally establish a relationship aside from raising their hackles at each other every moment they spent any time together? And secondly...not for the first time, the panda had to wonder why, forty years ago, the bunting-swathed infant snow leopard had not been brought to Bao Gu, rather than the Jade Palace doorstep.

 

Not that that would have worked out any better, in the end; if Tigress was thought a monster by the other children and the headmistress, how much more so would Tai Lung have been, who equaled her in strength if he didn't surpass her altogether? And perhaps whoever had left him had a particular reason to bring him to Shifu and Oogway...or wished him to be guaranteed a family with strong, loving bonds, rather than the benign but unfocused attention of an orphanage and the whims of future adopters. Of course, despite or even because of this love, it hadn't worked out that way... _What if, what if...we'll never know what might've happened_.

 

 

The sound of childish laughter floated across the field as they entered the gate in the low stone wall, and Po caught Tai Lung wincing out of the corner of his eye, then drawing himself up to his full height—apparently girding himself for what was to come. The panda grinned to himself. He knew the snow leopard would deny it wholeheartedly, but whatever else could be said about him, he seemed to have a soft spot for children.

 

In moments the crowd of cubs was bursting out onto the grounds when the enormous wooden door swung open to admit them, and the entire group was soon surrounded by small, hugging bodies and upturned, excited faces. As had occurred at the daycare, Tigress seemed quite happy to cuddle and embrace the children, and Viper was just as affectionate and loving, but there were a few surprises among the kung fu masters. While Crane was predictably stiff and nervous, and Mantis seemed to enjoy using his pincers to playfully tickle various nerve points before he got mobbed, Monkey was apparently still sullen and grumpy thanks to his hangover, and thus stayed out of the proceedings for the most part, arms crossed and silent.

 

The biggest surprise of all was Master Shifu—the orphans seemed intimidated by him, and rightfully so, but after a few minutes of observing them with his typical stern gaze, the red panda smiled mischievously and produced a handful of ginger cookies from within his robes. These he dangled above the heads of the eager tots, only giving them out when a cub succeeded in imitating a Tiger fist, assuming the lotus position, doing a backflip, or some other kung fu feat. When he started giving the treats out for a proper kung fu bow or staying perfectly still, however, Po knew Shifu was a lot more relaxed and fun-loving than he let on.

 

As for Tai Lung...despite his earlier resentment, not only did he easily hoist a pair of bunnies up onto his shoulders without even a word of protest, he also made it a point to speak to the headmistress, an aged sheep, with a deferential and respectful air. "Madam...I can't tell you enough how grateful I am you've been so dedicated, running a place such as this for so many years. Not many would sacrifice their time and money for abandoned children, without families or a place. You...you've ensured so many young ones would have fulfilled and happy lives, knowing someone loved them, that they had a place to belong. Thank you..." And he bowed to her, deeply and reverently.

 

"Oh...well..." The sheep seemed flustered, whether because of his high praise and genuine humility, or because of just who was speaking to her. "You're welcome, of course, but it's nothing really. How could I ever turn them away, or not let them all into my heart? It's not their fault they have no one, and no matter how much I love them, I won't rest till they all find homes..."

 

The snow leopard nodded in distinct approval, not even seeming to notice the various stunned and troubled looks coming from some members of the Five. Shifu, at least, looked extraordinarily proud, if rather sad, and Tigress had to work hard to conceal her expression of wonder and admiration. Po, of course, couldn't stop himself from beaming and wouldn't if he could have.

 

With that out of the way, the spotted feline retreated looking a little out of sorts and rather embarrassed by his effusive greeting, gently bouncing his charges on his broad back to their evident delight. This allowed Tigress to step forward and press into the sheep's hands the packages Master Shifu had prepared in advance—a generous donation of money, food, and toys for the children, the latter gathered and purchased in the market by Viper over the last several days. This brought tears to the headmistress's eyes, and she patted the striped feline's paws familiarly, squeezing them tightly.

 

"Bless you, Master Tigress. You have always been so kind to us, even after what happened so long ago. How long has it been now? It's still so hard to believe how much you've—"

 

"Changed, yes," Tigress quickly interrupted her with a tight smile. "But there's no need to go into that, is there? Water under the bridge, and I've more than made up for my...little lapses. Right, Mrs. Fa?"

 

The sheep looked at her strangely, even as she nodded. "Yes, of course. Still, I'm sure you do have _some_ good memories. Wouldn't you like to see your—"

 

"No." There was a pause, as Tigress apparently realized her voice came out sharper than she'd intended. "I don't think that will be necessary. If you could just show us where we'll be staying the night? Since it does tend to get darker here sooner in the mountains, as I recall, and we shouldn't set out for the north till it's full light."

 

Mrs. Fa looked extremely flustered and nonplussed now, but finally having gotten the hint that Tigress didn't wish to discuss her tenure at Bao Gu any further, the ovine smiled vaguely at Shifu and urged all of them, in a somewhat breathy whisper, to follow her. From the way she almost tripped on the hem of her dress and then clutched blindly at it to lift it out of her way, something Tigress said definitely seemed to have disturbed her, though Po couldn't figure out for the life of him what it was. Unless...there were more to the story of her time at Bao Gu than he'd heard in the Valley?

 

He was determined to find out what it was, if so. And in the middle of the headmistress's tour of the facility, the panda suddenly got his chance.

 

As they turned another corner, or rather a curve, in the stone-walled passage encircling the orphanage, Po happened to glance behind him and noticed that Tigress was no longer with them, having vanished somewhere along the way...and Tai Lung had noticed it too, for he already had his back to the panda and was sneaking down the corridor back the way they'd come. Po glanced ahead, saw that Shifu was enmeshed in a murmured conference with Mrs. Fa, and then quickly turned around and snuck after the snow leopard—grateful for the stone floor, which would not creak under his weight and give him away.

 

Several yards back the way they'd come, the Dragon Warrior discovered another passage he hadn't noticed, one slicing away at a sharp right angle into the heart of the orphanage. Despite the fact it was lit by shafts of wan sunlight spilling down from the windows high along the ceiling, something about it seemed ominous to Po...perhaps it was the fact the rest of the hall still lay deep in shadow, or that he had the sense there was a secret kept at the end of it which he didn't want to learn. Nevertheless, he could see Tai Lung passing through a ray of light far ahead of him, disturbing the dust motes in a frenetic dance, and so he kept pursuing the feline.

 

When the sound of unoiled hinges whining in the corridor echoed suddenly ahead of him, Po flattened himself against the wall in the shadows, his black-furred back facing outward so his white belly wouldn't give his presence away. He knew he looked ridiculous hugging the wall, but at least this way he wasn't visible...he hoped. Peering over his shoulder, he saw that Tai Lung had stopped too, although he certainly wasn't trying to hide.

 

Standing with arms crossed, he was staring toward a massive, iron-bound wooden door that marked the end of the passage—a door which now stood open, allowing Tigress to stare at the darkened interior of the room beyond.

 

"I knew it," the snow leopard murmured, though his voice still seemed shockingly loud in the twilight silence. "Don't know why you thought I wouldn't figure it out. You said you didn't know your parents, so you must have been an orphan, and this is the only orphanage in the province close enough to the Valley for you to have lived in. What I don't understand is, why you were trying to hide it. Did you think I'd look down on you for that? You don't know me very well then, Master Tigress."

 

Po expected her to say she didn't want to, but she said nothing for a very long while, giving the panda time to wonder himself why she had hid her past, prevented the headmistress from revealing it. Had she wanted to avoid admitting she had anything in common with Tai Lung? Or was it simply something she wanted to reveal herself, in private?

 

Just when he thought she wouldn't answer, Tigress finally turned around and said, "Not that it's any of your business, but yes...I did grow up here. And while you can't begin to imagine how it annoys me that we do have something in common after all...that's not why I hid this. I...I did things when I was here that...I'm not proud of."

 

"Really." Tai Lung sounded dubious, and Po couldn't blame him. Tigress was a noble warrior, possessed of many virtues, and just plain incredible in every way. Okay, so she had a temper that gave the snow leopard's a run for his money, and she was often far too judgmental and unfair...but she was otherwise a good person. How could she ever have done anything that terrible?

 

"Yes," the striped feline snapped, as if angry at being contradicted even on something she shouldn't wish to be true. _Tai's not the only contrary one here_. "When I was young, before I knew any better, before Shifu trained me to control it, I was exceptionally strong, and I used my strength in ways I should not. This...room...was my punishment."

 

The snow leopard stiffened briefly. "A bit excessive, if you ask me. Not to mention harsh."

 

"No," Tigress said, her voice shaking slightly. "It was right on the mark. You see, it wasn't just that I couldn't handle utensils without breaking them, or that I smashed furniture and toys without meaning to. Once...when I grew angry I couldn't be allowed to play a game with the other children, one of them tried to help me. She meant well, but when I failed yet again, I lost my temper...and I hurt her. Badly."

 

Po had to fight back a sharp intake of breath. Tai Lung did gasp, slightly, and from what the panda could see of her, Tigress looked stricken and deeply distressed. Despite this, the snow leopard didn't try to embrace or otherwise comfort her. In fact by the way he rubbed the back of his neck, the feline seemed at a loss what to say.

 

Finally, he managed to say, "I see. That...explains a bit. But it wasn't your fault, you know. You didn't do it on purpose, and you couldn't help what you were."

 

"What? A killer? That's what I would have been, if my claws had been an inch nearer her jugular." Her tone was laced with bitterness.

 

"No. A predator. It's what we were born, both you and I. When I was allowed to go to the Valley and meet other cubs my age, I learned they were afraid of me, too. Perhaps with reason. But what's important is, you learned to control it, Shifu helped you do it. And you haven't done anything of the sort since, outside of the field of battle, right?"

 

Tigress sighed, looked away sullenly. "No...though I have come close. And sometimes, in battle, the rage becomes much more difficult to deal with."

 

"Ah. Now that's something I'm even more familiar with." Tai Lung crossed his arms to contemplate her suggestively.

 

The leader of the Furious Five glared at him. "And there you go, trying to draw parallels again."

 

Tai Lung lifted his paws palm out, then sighed. "Not at all. Just trying to explain to you...I do understand. You see, there was at least one time when I, too, didn't know my own strength, and hurt someone I didn't intend to."

 

" _One_ time?" Her voice was rather incredulous.

 

But the snow leopard ignored her. "Yes. The day of the rampage, when I broke into the Hall of Warriors to claim the Dragon Scroll. Shifu leaped at me, to prevent me from taking it...I couldn't believe it, my own father hadn't just failed to stand up for me, he was actually attacking me!" Tai Lung's shoulders heaved, and a frustrated growl rumbled in his throat. "I was so furious at him for getting in my way, I batted him right out of the air. But I hit him too hard...I never meant to break his leg as I did."

 

Again he sighed, hanging his head in shame, and Po wished he dared reveal himself, so he could offer a tight embrace. "That sound, when it snapped...it stayed with me the whole time I lay there, paralyzed on the floor. And for the first few years in Chorh-Gom, too. So...don't think I don't understand. Don't think I don't know what it is, to hurt someone you wished you hadn't...to go too far."

 

Throughout his speech, Tigress had been watching him with a riot of emotions crossing her striped, pinched face—fury, disbelief, sarcasm, sorrow, anguish. Finally, it settled on slow acceptance...and though she didn't change her posture one inch, Po got the impression a wall of some sort had come down, if only for a moment. And no wonder...for the panda realized poignantly that this was yet another thing she had in common with Tai Lung—each had hurt someone, each had been locked away; but she had been rescued by Master Shifu...while he'd had to claw his way free.

 

"I don't know why...but somehow, I believe you. Maybe you do regret. Maybe...you do understand."

 

Tai Lung looked up, and though Po couldn't see his face, by the sound of his voice he was greatly relieved. "Well, I can't promise anything. Only to try. But, if you ever do need to talk about this..."

 

"I know who to ask. I must be out of my mind...but, thank you." Tigress turned away, but not before Po saw a brief tinge of pink beneath her cheek fur. "I will...consider it. But for now...I'd appreciate it if you...left me to myself."

 

The snow leopard nodded, and before he could turn and catch sight of Po in the shadows, the panda hurriedly backed around the corner, then dashed down the hall to rejoin the others. But as he went, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Maybe there was a chance Tigress would forgive him after all. Maybe there was still hope, for both of them.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Or maybe Po needed to check just how many mushrooms he'd put in his stew, or the felines'. Because the next time he heard them talk, they were so at odds with each other, and saying things he never thought he'd hear, that the panda wasn't sure which, if any of them, had lost their sanity.

 

It happened the second night of their journey northward. That day had been spent traveling from village to village, homestead to homestead, doing good deeds and charity work everywhere they encountered a need for it. Mantis had delivered innumerable sacks of rice and wheat to the more destitute farmers of the region, to aid them with their crops; Crane had flown water from hilltop wells to the houses of the elderly and infirmed who could not fetch it themselves; Po had made many a good dinner for those who had no food; Viper gave out money, whether to the poor directly or to the local temples; and Tigress and Monkey (the latter finally recovered from his binging but still rather out-of-sorts) worked on construction projects together, whether repairing damaged houses and outbuildings or erecting whole new structures for those who were homeless.

 

Throughout all of this, Tai Lung had not objected once, only aiding where he was asked by offering another willing pair of paws or a strong back for support. Those among the villagers who recognized him had been fearful at first, but once they saw he meant them no harm, most chose to ignore him—and some few began to smile in gratitude and dawning hope when he came near.

 

After such a long day of strenuous work and heavy travel, everyone was fairly exhausted, so as Po prepared the evening meal at the camp they gathered, each of the kung fu masters relaxed or otherwise occupied themselves in their own ways. Shifu meditated, while Crane and Mantis assumed their usual positions for sleep—the bird standing on one leg, bill tucked beneath one wing, while the insect posed as if he were indeed praying. Monkey began practicing the forms with his bamboo staff, muttering and murmuring to himself endlessly under his breath.

 

Viper too was muttering to herself as she peered down at a bare patch of dirt, on which she had scratched out something the panda couldn't see—a map, a drawing, even lines of poetry for all he knew, but when he tried to sidle close to get a look, the serpent swiftly wiped the soil smooth with her coils and stared at him pointedly until he took the hint and moved off.

 

Dishing up two bowls of the stew he'd prepared, Po then went to look for Tigress and Tai Lung, who almost of their own accord had drifted off into the trees, one after the other. And it was then, as he approached on silent paws along the trail, trying to avoid rustling the underbrush, that the Dragon Warrior overheard the felines again. It wasn't that he was trying to spy on them, he swore somewhat petulantly to himself. He just wanted to know if the cats would ever manage to make peace...or else be there to pry them apart before they killed each other. Sadly, what he heard made it unclear which way things were going to turn out...

 

"I cannot believe you, Tai Lung." Tigress sounded disappointed as well as angry. "And here I was beginning to believe, and to hope, that Shifu was right, and you were cured of your insanity."

 

"Insane, eh?" Surprisingly, the snow leopard seemed to be a bit desperate, not furious. "Some would think so. Hell, two weeks ago _I'd_ have called myself mad for believing this. Actually trusting someone else with something as easily hurt as the heart? Opening yourself up till you're damn vulnerable to whatever fireworks they decide to set off under you? Making a bloody idiot out of yourself just to earn their affections? Sounds like insanity to me, woman."

 

He paused, and then his voice turned softer, but no less impassioned. "But by the same token...if wanting you with everything I have, and loving you with everything I am, makes me out of my mind, just call me Oogway. Because I'm proud of it, if it means I can be close to someone like you."

 

Po gasped and almost dropped his soup bowls. _No, he **didn't**! Really?_

 

He fully expected Tigress to explode into a whirlwind of violence, beating the snow leopard within an inch of his life until he took back such disgusting words—or at least snarl and shout at him until she ran out of steam. But she didn't. In fact when she spoke she only sounded skeptical, condescending, and yes, cold. "Uh-huh. You love me. That'd be funny, if it weren't so sad."

 

From where he stood out of sight behind a tree, the panda could see Tai Lung's fists clench instinctively, only to relax immediately. "And why is that?" he demanded tightly. "Because you think I'm not capable of real love?"

 

"No." The master of the Tiger style shook her head, even as she frowned and sighed. "I thought so once, just two weeks ago. I certainly believed it when I first spoke to you in your cell. But...I know better now. Whether I want to accept it or not, you obviously loved Shifu once...and on some level, you still do. No, the reason I know you're wrong is because it's impossible you could love me. Tai Lung, you barely know me."

 

"What's there to know?" He started ticking off points on his fingers. "You're beautiful, intelligent, strong-willed, not to mention bolder and braver than anyone I know. You're an incredible fighter, and you're the only who dares stand up to me most of the time. I think that tells me all I need."

 

Tigress rolled her eyes, then gave him a flat look. "You're even worse off than I thought. A real piece of work. You've got it all mapped out in your head, don't you? Why we're destined to be together." Before Tai Lung could do more than splutter in protest, the striped feline started making her own list, much more clinical and direct, but also with a rather stilted tone.

 

"You aren't in love with me. You're in love with the _idea_ of being in love with me. You, the Master of the Thousand Scrolls, and me, the leader of the Furious Five. It must seem like poetic justice to you, that we should be fated to meet and become lovers. Who else is there worthy of you, after all? We're the perfect couple, and once I accept the truth, give into your charms, and fall into your arms, all of China will have to marvel at how our love was written in the stars, and we can spread a legacy of kung fu all across the land."

 

She crossed her arms and smirked mirthlessly at him. "Sounding at all familiar? Am I hitting pretty close to the mark?"

 

Hissing between clenched teeth, the snow leopard drew back. " _That_ was uncalled for. Not to mention damn well unfair."

 

"Is it? Don't deny at least some of it is true. I don't hate you as much as I used to, Tai Lung, but even if I were willing to entertain the possibility of us getting together—which I'm not—the fact is, you mindlessly pursuing this fantasy version you have of me would always get in the way. You can't really know me, or love me, or do the right thing. Not so long as you delude yourself into thinking this warrior-wife who always defers to you, and me, are the same person." Despite the disgust and resentment in her voice, there was also an odd catch...as if she regretted this somehow, wished it weren't so. But how could _that_ be?

 

For a long time, Tai Lung was silent, whether mulling over her words, trying to come up with proper rebuttals, or working to restrain his fearsome temper. Finally, he turned away dismissively, and Po could see, in the shadows of the forest clearing, that his expression had become bleak and furious, though with whom he didn't know. But there was also an obscure pain in his lantern-like eyes. "You may be right—partly. But that doesn't mean things can't change, or that I'm giving up. I'll fight for you."

 

Tigress seemed torn between pride that the snow leopard believed her worth fighting for and a yearning to smack sense into his stubborn skull. "And once again, we're back where we started. With you always thinking with your muscles. There are some fights that can't be won, and many things that can't be solved with fighting!"

 

His jaw clenched, quivering. "Maybe not. But I never said it was you, or your feelings, I'd be fighting. It'll be an opponent I've never succeeded in facing down before, but there's a first time for everything. And I'm going to have to, sooner or later...if not for this, than to stay on the path I'm on. Might as well start now." Narrowing his eyes, he gazed at her with a smoldering heat that made even Po uncomfortable. "But mark my words, Master Tigress. Things will change, and I'll prove to you you're wrong. Just you wait and see."

 

Forceful, even rough, his words might have been, but Po didn't think that was why Tigress looked so worried and distressed as she watched Tai Lung stalk back to camp (luckily, in a different direction than toward the panda's hiding place). And he didn't blame her. Because like the striped feline, he could also tell the snow leopard had the strength of his conviction in his voice—not only had he meant what he said, he fully believed in it. And the larger feline had such a willpower that he always received what he wanted, if he put his mind to it.

 

What that meant for the future, Po didn't know. Even as he marveled at how his thoughts of yesterday on hooking the two felines up had not been so ridiculous after all, as well as incredibly prescient, part of him wildly hoped Tai Lung would succeed, for his own sake as well as Tigress's. But as he too hurried back to camp before the striped cat discovered him lurking nearby, he was also mildly terrified at what might happen if the spotted warrior didn't get his heart's desire—and what would happen if he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first part of this chapter, I thought I'd address the thing that always confused me about Tai's fight with Shifu; no matter how awesome and badass he is, it doesn't make much sense that he could scoop up fire and fling it around like that without burning himself. So, I used the concept of elemental chi. For anyone who may be concerned about this, don't worry: I didn't let my fic dissolve into people throwing fireballs and lightning bolts at each other. While learning to channel personal elements will come into play, it'll only be one move among many in combat, and used in very specific, proscribed manners.
> 
> The second section came about because I decided after all that we may not have been told everything about Tigress's time at Bao Gu; if Po altered Viper's tale or Monkey's tale for impressionable ears, why not Tigress's? And I rather think that unless the headmistress was guilty of child abuse, there must have been some reason to justify the horrible cell she was kept in and why everyone was so afraid of her. And the logical extension of what we were told is what I've written here.
> 
> Last section borrows a bit from Aaron Allston's _Wraith Squadron_ books, for anyone who follows them. It is rather hard to believe Tai Lung could 'suddenly' be in love with Tigress, and it seems to me that Tyria's points against Kell make just as much sense coming from Tigress. A bit more of this will show up later too.


	17. In the Night

 

A rumbling crash of thunder shook Po awake and made him sit up violently in bed, whimpering and terrified—and not only because of the suddenness and power of the sound. Because as a bolt of lightning luridly illumined the room, followed by another peal echoing through the heavens like kettle drums, for a few heart-stopping moments he didn't remember where he was or why.

 

Finally, as his eyesight adjusted to the darkness and details of his surroundings started filing in, he let out a series of calming breaths and ran his paws down over his face. Of course. He was in an inn, the same one he was staying at with Shifu, Tai Lung, and the Five. A fairly well-appointed one, especially for such a small village—the bed wasn't lumpy, the sheets were freshly laundered and neatly arranged, all the amenities were provided (even a fireplace and a bed warmer in which hot coals could be placed, not that either would be needed for many months yet), and it was well decorated with tapestries and hand-carved furniture. There were even fresh flowers on the windowsill.

 

And they were in a little place called Yunxian, quite near the border of Henan province, a town of forests and rivers, gently rolling fields and scattered ponds, with mountains looming over it all just to the south. They'd reached it on the third day of their travels, and while even here in a place as far away from the Valley of Peace as you could get without leaving Hubei altogether, the villagers had heard of the Furious Five, they had rarely ever received a visit. While there wasn't time to throw a parade and festival as the village headman clearly wanted to do, there had certainly been a great amount of people packing the narrow dirt streets, cheering and clapping and waving as they passed.

 

The Five, of course, were used to this sort of reception, and Shifu didn't bat an eye either, but Po had stared at it all, wide-eyed and blushing the entire time—and as for Tai Lung, between having been locked away from light, sound, and other people for twenty years and the fact it had been at least that long since anyone celebrated his appearance, the snow leopard had looked rather harried and overwhelmed himself.

 

But once the villagers had calmed down, all had settled into the normal congress they'd encountered throughout their trip—Shifu asking with his usual directness where assistance might be needed and rendered, the headman demurring and trying to insist that they were self-sufficient and could hardly impose upon such great kung fu masters, and the Five finally shoving parcels of yuan and fresh food at him until he was forced to relent.

 

After that, there had been the usual tasks and activities to see to: quite a number of roofs to repair, as well as boards to replace in sagging floors and ceilings, all of which was handled by Monkey and Tai Lung (the latter having gotten good enough at it he could work on his own); numerous tubs of heavy washing which had to be strung up on lines between buildings (a task Crane handled with a certain wry grin, since as he pointed out his time at Li Dai had made him an expert at it); a bridge which had been washed out by the recent heavy rains, its reconstruction labored over by Tigress and Mantis; Yunxian's rice paddies needed checking over for various pests, something which Master Shifu claimed to be quite proficient at but which he refused to explain; and Po and Viper had been only too happy to watch over the village's children while all this was going on.

 

Once the sun began to set, it wasn't at all surprising they were all worn out from their disparate jobs and needed to retire somewhere to rest. They'd been set to make camp in the forest again, as they had the night before, but the headman wouldn't hear of it. When he offered to sleep on the ground himself so they could stay in his own house, Shifu in turn would not hear of _that_ ; and so the inn had been a compromise.

 

Shaking his head to himself in amusement at the memory, Po sighed, rubbed his eyes again, and groaned as he forced himself up out of bed. He'd never get back to sleep with this storm pounding away, and now that he was awake he found that, as usual, his grumbling, complaining stomach needed its midnight snack. This might not be the Jade Palace but surely the inn had something good stashed in its pantry!

 

As he crept to the door as quietly as he could so as not to wake the others, however, a lull in the pouring rain made him realize they were already up—or at least two of them were, since he could hear Tigress and Viper's voices floating from the next room over. As far as he knew, neither were light sleepers, so he didn't think the weather was responsible for their being awake. What could they be discussing?

 

For what might have been the first time in the panda's life, curiosity won out over hunger. Because, though he knew the chances of it were extremely slim, he hoped they were talking about Tai Lung—specifically, the incredible tale they'd heard from Yunxian's headman, from over twenty years ago, when the snow leopard was just a teenager...

_They all stood arrayed in the village square, bowing to the aged boar who was the headman of Yunxian. Each of them, even Po, maintained the formal façade proscribed by ritual and tradition, even as inside most of them were quite stunned by their reception_ — _or more specifically, Tai Lung's reception. For every one of the townsfolk seemed just as deliriously happy to see the snow leopard as they were the Furious Five or the Dragon Warrior. And it wasn't as if they didn't know who he was, or had confused him with someone else_ — _quite a number of the elders called him by name as they hobbled forward to take his paws in a palsied grip, and the children all stared at him as wide-eyed and excited as those in the Valley had at the panda._

_When a lull finally broke in all the chattering, cheering, and gossiping, Monkey finally managed to insert himself rather rudely into the conversation. "Don't you know who he is?"_

_The boar looked at the langur as if he were dense. "Of course we do! He's the Hero Tai Lung, the one who saved this very village twenty-three years ago. Don't tell me you don't know the story?"_

 

" _The only story we know," Monkey retorted, "is the one where he almost destroyed our Valley and killed everyone in it."_

_A hard, suspicious gleam appeared in the pig's eyes, and he clenched his jaw firmly as he placed both hands on his hips. "I don't believe that. No one here ever has! It simply isn't possible something that terrible could have been done by our savior. And if somehow, it did happen...well, from what we heard, he might have had every right to be upset. If it were up to us, **we** would've given him the Dragon Scroll long ago. No offense to Master Po."_

_While Tigress and Monkey both glared at the fellow, the others all simply exchanged mystified glances. Shifu, Po noted significantly, remained silent and expressionless, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, approving nor rejecting. Finally, Crane was the one to step forward, bow again with a rustle of feathers, and ask, "I'm afraid we don't know what you're talking about. Could you, perhaps, explain?"_

_The headman's face cleared, taking on almost the giddiness of a schoolboy, as he turned and pointed behind them to the south. "Do you see that peak there? That is WuShon Mountain, a sacred place in these parts. And two decades ago, it was the place where ten thousand yaoguai tried to break through into our world, to corrupt WuShon and slay us all. There was nothing we could do, we are simple farmers and know nothing of warfare. Even if we had, what could we do against demons of fire, and in such numbers? We desperately sent out messengers for help, praying they would reach the Jade Palace in time, that Grand Master Oogway or Master Shifu here would come to our aid._

 

" _They sent Tai Lung. Only fifteen summers old, already a greater warrior than many men twice his age, already a legend from the Yangtze to the Gobi. And we are forever grateful that they did."_

_Po stirred, swallowing hard as his eyes bulged in disbelief. He had heard this tale before...but he had never known it was Tai Lung whom it centered around. Apparently, after his rampage, his name had been expunged from the legend. But the confrontation itself was unmistakable_ — _he knew it so well, and had memorized it as a cub, that it was no surprise it had figured prominently in his dreams. The very day he'd been chosen as the Dragon Warrior, he had dreamed it, inserting himself into the heroic role as he always had..._

_Mantis, meanwhile, was speaking. "So what exactly did he do?" He didn't seem to be leading the conversation but genuinely curious_ — _despite being older than all of them, he must have been elsewhere in China at the time and so had not heard the rumors._

_The boar grinned delightedly, his eyes shining and voice awed. "Well, since they were demons they only came out at night, which gave him all day to scout out the lay of the land, figure out just what kind of strategy to use. He put some of us to work making scarecrows dressed up to look like monks, because he knew yaoguai seek out holy men and women above all else; then he joined our quarrymen in hollowing out tunnels under a fallow field at the base of the mountain, and had our carpenters build structural supports to hold the ceilings up that could be knocked down or pulled free if struck in just the right place. Then he waited for nightfall."_

_Everyone, except for the skeptical and grumpy Monkey, listened raptly, spellbound, as the headman's voice became hushed and intense, instinctively taking on just the right traits of a storyteller continuing a sacred oral tradition._

 

" _When darkness covered the land, they came, and they were a frightful sight indeed. Horrible claws, enormous horns, eyes that burned with flames and mouths that roared like furnaces in faces like fleshless skulls. There seemed to be no end to them, they flowed across the fields like waves in a black sea. But Tai Lung stood his ground, and all alone. He had hidden himself inside one of the scarecrows, waiting for just the right moment to spring his trap._

 

" _The yaoguai suspected nothing, they believed there was no one who could stop them from scaling the peak and absorbing its holy energy. When they saw what seemed to be an army of warrior monks ready to dispatch them back to the underworld, they rushed forward with cries of delight...but as soon as they ignited one rank of scarecrows to discover they were only straw men, they gave out unearthly howls of rage instead._

 

" _And it was then Tai Lung burst out of his disguise. He...he was a whirlwind, I still don't know how he did it! He seemed to be everywhere at once, kicking, punching, twisting, flipping so nimbly it was as if he'd vanished from one place to appear in another. He had a weapon of some sort, a sword so sharp I couldn't even look at it for long...but it changed somehow when he held it, it turned into a huge, double-bladed halberd! It must have been magical, because he mowed them down with it, split rank after rank of demons so they just...dissolved into mist._

 

" _Only when the yaoguai almost had him completely surrounded did Tai Lung retreat_ — _and even then it was only to set off his trap. There was this boulder, embedded in the soil...he dislodged it with one punch, sent it flying up in the air, and then leaped up himself to kick it all the way across the battlefield. It smashed apart the log he'd propped up, to hold another boulder in place, and it rolled right down into the tunnels we'd made for him, breaking all the wooden supports. Without those, all that hollow earth couldn't support the weight of the demons...it collapsed, making a huge chasm, and they all fell into it._

 

" _But Tai Lung wasn't there anymore. He'd scaled the cliff face, so light on his feet he didn't even seem to touch the ground. He looked like he was leaping at random, but he was actually striking all the weak points he'd found in the cliff...and when he got to the top, he turned around and swung his weapon, which had turned into a broadsword again. It...it flashed green, and sent out this arc of super-sharpened air_ — _that's the only thing that makes sense. Because when it struck the cliff face, it slashed right through the rock. And the whole mountainside below his ledge sheared right off, and fell. It swept the demons down off the peak, back into the gorge...and buried them. When the dust settled, that was what we saw."_

_And he pointed again to WuShon, this time indicating a huge pile of scree and rubble which lined the entire base of the mountain on one side_ — _overgrown with grass, trees, and vines after twenty years, so that they wouldn't have been able to recognize it for what it was if the boar hadn't drawn their attention to it._

 

" _They were entombed there, and there they remain to this day. Sealed off from our world for all time, we hope. They certainly haven't bothered our village again since that day. And it's all because of Tai Lung."_

_As the headman's vindicated voice died away into silence again, all of them took turns staring at him, at the distant mountain, and at Tai Lung_ — _except Shifu, who only gave a small smile of pride and nodded in satisfaction, and the snow leopard himself who was staring wordlessly at his feet. He seemed to be fighting two warring impulses_ — _the desire to stand up tall and puff out his chest at this great deed, and the equally strong desire to slump over and hide his face in shame at what he had done with his life since then._

_Finally, Tigress turned to the spotted feline and spoke, her voice as neutral and non-accusatory as she could make it. "You used the Sword of Heroes."_

_Tai Lung looked up at last, met her gaze unflinchingly. "That's right."_

_Her gaze shifted to the red panda. "I thought you were the only one to have used it."_

_Shifu raised an eyebrow. "I told all of you I had done so; I never said I was the only one. And Tai Lung wielded it with just as much courage and strength as I did. More so, in fact, since he was fighting to defend the innocent...and I employed it for revenge." A sorrowful look crossed his mustached face_ — _but then it became one of pointed determination. "So I would ask all of you to remember that, my students...before you decide you truly know a heart."_

 

Snapping out of his reverie as another crash of thunder reverberated through the inn, Po couldn't help but still grin sappily to himself. He didn't know if the others had been as deeply affected by the tale as he had—he suspected Monkey and Tigress certainly had not been, as for whatever reasons they were the last holdouts on giving Tai Lung a chance.

 

All that mattered to him though was that this seemed like a sign to him. It _had_ to mean something that the kung fu legend which had always awed and excited him the most growing up, the one which he'd latched onto for dream fuel for years, had turned out to be a feat the snow leopard had performed, long ago. It _had_ to...

 

Again he heard the voices of Tigress and Viper coming from their room down the hall, and even though part of his mind registered the fact they sounded rather emotional and impassioned, he found he couldn't hold back any longer. He had to talk to someone, or he would burst. He had to tell them about his dreams, find out if they meant anything.

 

Hurrying down the hallway, heedless of the squeaking, he hesitated only briefly by the door, then knocked even as he was opening it to peer inside. "Master Tigress? Master Viper? What's going on, can I come in? I just gotta...oh."

 

The looks both females gave him could have frozen fire, and he could easily understand why. Viper's makeup was smeared, both of them seemed a bit teary-eyed, their faces were only a few inches apart, and Tigress was cradling the serpent in her arms, giving her what appeared to be a tight embrace, while Viper's tail was wrapped around the feline's middle. "Um...okay then. I can...see you're busy. I'll...just be going..."

 

"Panda!" Tigress snapped testily, though he thought she sounded a bit worried. "It's not what it looks like." Hearing that only made it worse though, as even one with his inexperience knew what _that_ was code for.

 

Viper, disengaging from the striped feline, was both blushing and chuckling ruefully now as she crawled over to him. "We were just apologizing to each other, Po. I pushed her a little too hard, when we were going to the Thread of Hope, and she overreacted a little. That's all."

 

"Oh...oh! Thank goodness." _Open muzzle, insert paw_. "I thought—"

 

"We _know_ what you thought," Tigress retorted, drumming her fingers on her arms.

 

"Not that there's anything wrong with that!" he hurriedly backpedaled. "Just kinda...came outta nowhere there. Yeah."

 

For several long minutes, they all stared at each other, very uncomfortably. Then, as another bolt of lightning illuminated the room, Tigress finally said, "Anyway, what are you doing here? Couldn't sleep either?"

 

"Nope," Po agreed quickly, quite eager to change the subject, and not just because of what he'd wanted to tell them in the hallway—which had, in fact, almost been driven completely out of his mind by what he'd seen. "So um...other than apologizin', what're you guys up to?"

 

Viper exchanged a glance with Tigress, then inexplicably smiled in a naughty, suggestive fashion. "Well...I thought we could have a slumber party, of sorts. Though I was going to invite the other boys, too."

 

"Really? _Sweet!_ Want me to bring some snacks?" When they both looked at him in exasperation, he rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I'll leave some money down in the kitchen for the innkeeper. I may be a lotta things, but I ain't no thief."

 

He bit his lip, again wondering if he should talk to them about the _yaoguai_ and his dream...though neither kung fu master had said so, he was fairly certain their argument had something to do with Tai Lung, so bringing the snow leopard up again, even in connection to a clearly heroic tale, would probably be a bad idea.

 

His worried thoughts were interrupted when Tigress gave a high sigh, and after narrowing her eyes suspiciously at Viper, shook her head in resignation. "Fine. But be quick about it, now that you mention it I'm rather hungry too. We'll see to getting the others." Something in her crafty look, which was almost as naughty as the serpent's had been, implied the rest of the Five and Tai Lung would not appreciate how she fetched them...or how she woke them, if they weren't already up...

 

In about fifteen minutes or so, Po had returned from the kitchen with a large bowl of still warm dumplings, some steamed spinach, and a jug of cider (since even if he'd been willing to drink alcohol, he rather thought that would be the last thing Monkey would want to see right now). When he did so, the storm (though somewhat calmer) still continued outside, and the other males had all gathered in Tigress's room—where Viper had come when she couldn't sleep. Monkey seemed as irascible as he had ever since the Ghost Festival—though who would enjoy being woken out of a sound sleep?—and Tai Lung, bleary-eyed and with sleep-snarled fur, glared about just as nastily. "All right, what's the big idea? I'd just gotten to sleep, damn it."

 

On the other hand, both Crane and Mantis, who were light sleepers, didn't seem particularly perturbed at being summoned, in fact they looked curious. And they didn't have to wait long to find out the answer to Tai Lung's question, for even as they all gathered together on the rush mat and Po began passing out the food and drink, Viper produced from under the bed something she'd apparently stashed there while the panda was in the kitchen—a small book in some foreign language.

 

"I thought we'd play a game," she said, both brightly and deviously.

 

Tai Lung immediately groaned openly. "You woke me up for _this_? That is just indecent and immoral, and I don't know if I like you anymore, Master Viper."

 

Po started to laugh, while the others merely exchanged skeptical looks. "What kind of game?" Crane finally ventured to ask.

 

The serpent slithered forward and laid the book down on the mat, opening it to a page she'd had marked. Her eyes twinkled merrily. "Well, you know how I like reading imported books from other lands, right?"

 

"Yes, we're well aware of your tastes," Tigress said dryly. "They usually involve men and women caught in compromising positions."

 

Viper flushed, then made a disparaging noise. "So I like romance! Not like I'm getting any around _here_...anyway, this isn't like that. I found out about a game that I think would be a lot of fun to play, and it'd certainly help us pass the time until the storm quits. It's called Truth or Dare."

 

Immediately Mantis chuckled, low and deep, as apparently he'd heard of the game in question. The others merely looked confused. "I...don't know if I like the sound of that," Crane finally said.

 

"Oh, don't knock it till you've tried it, Crane," Viper dismissed his concern. "It's really quite simple. We just go around the room and ask everyone 'Truth or Dare?' If the person chooses truth, they have to answer the question put to them, and they can't lie no matter how revealing or embarrassing their answer might be. If they choose dare, then they have to—"

 

"I think we get it," Tai Lung cut her off, even as he levered himself to his feet, cracked his neck, and started to turn away. "And I think I've heard enough. There's no way in hell I'm playing _anything_ , let alone that game, with all of you."

 

"Why not?" Viper demanded. "It's just harmless fun, and I've always wanted to try it out."

 

"You're joking. Tell me you're joking!" The snow leopard turned back, and although he was angry and annoyed, there seemed to be a genuine confusion in his voice. "D'you really think I'd subject myself to something that only a group of giggling women would enjoy? Or that I'd give any of you the chance to dare me to do humiliating things? No, thank you, I will keep my dignity if it's all the same to you."

 

Once again he turned to leave, and this time he made it to the door before Monkey called out, "Don't tell me you're afraid, cat."

 

Tai Lung froze in place, tail lashing and fur puffing slightly, then wheeled back to glare coldly at the langur. "And where would you get an idiotic idea like that? What could I _possibly_ have to be afraid of from a silly game?"

 

"I don't know, you tell me." Monkey crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a considering look. "Or d'you got something to hide?"

 

Watching this, Po couldn't blame Tai Lung for being wary. Not only was the snow leopard a very private person who didn't like confiding secrets about himself to others—the only times the panda had gotten him to do so were when they were alone or with Master Shifu—but he himself didn't like the idea of accepting dares anymore than the feline did.

 

Because sure as anything, Tai Lung would likely pick on Po the entire time, demanding he do increasingly ridiculous and infantile stunts just to soothe his ego and in some obscure way prove himself superior to the Dragon Warrior. Then again, if that was what Tai Lung needed to salve his wounded pride...it wasn't as if Po hadn't been humiliated before, he'd gotten used to it. And it sounded like this game wasn't really malicious, so it would all be meant in good, clean fun.

 

He opened his mouth to support the snow leopard's decision, but also to add he was sure certain elements among the Five could learn to restrain themselves somewhat for the duration of the game—when Tigress got there first. Arms crossed rather defiantly over her chest, she sniffed disdainfully.

 

"Cowardice has nothing to do with it. And I for one think he's right. I didn't want to do a 'slumber party' in the first place, Viper had to twist my arm to get me to submit to it. This just seems like a frivolous waste of time to me. I'd much rather be meditating, or doing the forms down in the dining hall—there's plenty of room there."

 

All eyes turned to her, then to the ex-convict, and Po's jaw was actually hanging open. Tigress, and Tai Lung _...agreeing_ on something? _Should I be checkin' the almanac for an eclipse? Or lookin' out the window for a red comet?_

 

However, even as all of them were still trying to come to terms with this impossibility, the snow leopard was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed himself but much more casually. And he was grinning at his fellow feline in a way Po wasn't sure he liked. "On second thought, maybe I will play—but only if Tigress does."

 

Was the master of the Tiger style blushing in embarrassment, or flushing in fury?

 

There was no time to really ponder the matter though, because immediately the rest of the Five were all importuning their leader to be a good sport and join in—or, when she seemed particularly recalcitrant, turning to make their appeals to Tai Lung. Po was fairly certain most of them were doing so only because they wanted the snow leopard in on the act, not because they cared about Tigress's involvement, but even though he wasn't sure having both of them play was a good idea, he couldn't help begging Tai Lung too. It seemed like the best chance yet to get him to open up, reveal more about himself, and establish common bonds with the Five. And there was so much he wanted to know!

 

"Aww, c'mon big guy! I'll give ya all the free food you can eat!"

 

"You do that already," Tai Lung observed wryly, not without a bit of warmth and appreciation.

 

" _Please_ , Tigress?" Viper wheedled. "I'll buy you that jade and ivory comb you had your eye on down in the marketplace."

 

"How did you know I—no!"

 

Monkey held up one hand to Tai Lung and solemnly promised, "I swear, I won't make you do anything stupid."

 

"You're a terrible liar. You know that, right?"

 

"Tigress, you _know_ you have to do this," Mantis put in intensely under his breath. "Look what's on the line here—we're never gonna get a better chance to make a fool out of Tai Lung!"

 

Po pleaded with Tai Lung again. "Look, don't you wanna get to know everybody better, and get them to like ya? Plus, when's the last time you really had fun, anyway?"

 

The snow leopard sighed and actually looked less belligerent, for a few moments at least. "Yes, panda. Or at least, I know if I'm going to be staying at the Jade Palace for the foreseeable future, I need to learn to get along with all of you. But that's not going to happen from a touchy-feely party game! Which, by the way, also isn't my idea of fun."

 

Tigress, who seemed to be wavering, pricked her ears at Tai Lung's words, then turned back to the others with a pointed scowl. "Even if I wanted to do this, what happens if...someone...refuses to do a dare? It won't even work if we don't all follow the rules."

 

Hearing this, Viper smiled a little too sweetly, flicked her eyes to the other feline as well, and then said, "Why, that's simple, Tigress. If anyone won't participate properly, or even won't participate at all, we can just tell Master Shifu all about it, and let _him_ set the punishment. He does want us all to learn to work together, after all...he probably would be rather unhappy if he heard someone wouldn't take part in this..."

 

That settled it. As soon as everyone heard their master's name brought into it, especially Tai Lung and Tigress, all of the kung fu warriors hurriedly agreed that they would play along—from the rather ashen look on both cats' faces, and even Crane's (who hadn't seemed particularly eager to accept dares either), none of them wanted to know just what torture the red panda would devise once Viper tattled on them.

 

And Po couldn't blame them—while he'd not been at the temple nearly as long as any of his idols, he'd already had more than enough hellish experiences courtesy of Shifu to last him a lifetime. And that had just been from the training!

 

So, as thunder continued to rumble and rain hiss and splatter against the windows outside, and the shadows of the trees shook and tossed across the ceiling in each flash of lightning, the seven of them all took their seats in a circle surrounding the crockery and dishware. Tai Lung, of course, grumbled the entire time—and as soon as he saw the big grins on the faces of Mantis and Monkey, surely due to privately gloating as they thought up painful questions to ask and ridiculous challenges to set, the snow leopard could only mutter, "Oh, damn it all..."

 

After several minutes of awkward silence, during which some of them munched on Po's snacks and the rest stared at each other uncertainly, Viper finally laid out the ground rules. "We'll just go around the circle, you can ask whoever you want, though they always get the choice of truth or dare. Once they've answered, they can turn the question back on the person who asked them, or they can choose someone else, unless they can't think of anything. And no one can be asked twice in a row—if you do, then we get to ask you twice in return."

 

Tai Lung grunted sourly, but everyone else simply nodded in understanding. Another silence fell over them, and then finally Po inquired, "So, uh...who gets to start?"

 

Viper smiled at him winsomely. "Why don't you do the honors, Po? You are the newest one here...I bet you have all kinds of things you'd love to ask us." The snow leopard groaned audibly, but what was even more noticeable was the fact Crane, Monkey, and Mantis also joined in. Po couldn't help but pout at that; did they really still find him that annoying and off-putting? He'd tried to tone it down ever since he knuckled under and entered real training with Master Shifu...

 

Interlacing his fingers, the panda flicked his eyes from one master to the next, then finally settled on Mantis, who gazed at him unblinkingly with his beady eyes. "Uh...okay, Mantis. Truth or dare?"

 

"Truth," the insect said warily.

 

"How exactly...do you bathe?"

 

Everyone burst out laughing, but Po persisted. "No, I mean, really—how do you? Viper can curl herself to hold things, that's how she puts on her make-up. But you've just got those...thingies. They can't hold soap, or a sponge or cloth..."

 

When he'd finally managed to get control of himself again, Mantis smirked. "I've got four words for you, Po: sponge on a stick."

 

"...What?"

 

"You heard me. I've got a sponge, on a stick. Bought it at a specialty store. Really good for those hard-to-reach places, too."

 

In spite of the funk he'd seemed to have settled into, Monkey chuckled appreciatively at that. "Sponge on a stick...sounds like a punch line to one of your jokes, Mantis. Gotta remember that one..."

 

After everyone had settled down again, Mantis couldn't think of anything to ask Po, so instead he turned to Tai Lung, the next in the line—and once it had been settled (unsurprisingly) that the snow leopard would be truthfully answering a question, the insect shocked the panda to the core with what he asked. "How and when did you lose your virginity?"

 

Viper almost inhaled a dumpling, Crane sprayed the floor with cider, and Po turned so red he swore he could have fried won tons on his cheeks. " _What_?" Tai Lung cried in disbelief.

 

"You heard me. A big, tough, manly cat like you must've been quite the hit with the ladies in your day. Bet you had 'em lining up for you whenever you came down from the palace. So tell us all about it." Mantis clasped his pincers expectantly.

 

"I will _not_ tell you all about it! That is _strictly_ private, and _none_ of your business, and—"

 

Monkey cupped a hand beside his mouth and half-turned toward the doorway, calling in a squeaky falsetto, "Yoo-hoo, Master Shifu! Tai Lung just isn't cooperating..."

 

Looking quite trapped and distressed, the snow leopard hurriedly raised both paws in an up-and-down, dampening gesture. "Keep it down! All right, you've made your point. But the thing of it is...I can't tell you."

 

"Why?" Tigress narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Was it that awful? The girl wasn't willing? You mistreated her? You were just sowing wild oats, so it meant nothing?"

 

"No, I..." He hung his head, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I can't tell you because...I haven't lost it."

 

Dead silence met this pronouncement, with more than one face blank with astonishment or sporting a skeptically raised eyebrow. Then the laughter started up even more uproariously than before.

 

"What's so funny?" the snow leopard snapped, fuming. "Sod off, I've been in prison for twenty years! Not exactly a range of opportunities there."

 

"Yeah, but what about before that?" Mantis snickered. "You saying Shifu was that strict, never let you off your leash to go down to the village?"

 

"No! Well, yes, but that's not the point!" Tai Lung's paws clenched visibly. "D'you think I was taking the _qipaos_ off of girls every time I turned around? I had a lot more important things on my mind, unlike you. All I ever wanted was the Dragon Scroll. I wasn't about to jeopardize my chances of getting it just to satisfy some base urge and put notches in my bedpost! Shifu would've let me have one night out on the town when I was sixteen, one night of freedom from obligations to pass as I wished. But I refused. I thought I was to be the Dragon Warrior—I would be out performing great heroic deeds, defending China, not running around boffing anything that moved."

 

The disgust lacing his voice was quite evident, as well as a certain bitterness and regret. Po thought he understood—he had given up his entire life for the scroll, so he could make his father happy and proud. Knowing now he wasn't the Dragon Warrior and never could be must make all those sacrifices seem even more painful and worthless.

 

"Maybe someday I would've considered it...tried settling down, raising a family. But I had that chance taken away from me, so we'll never know, will we?" Tai Lung shook his head. "In the end, it doesn't matter. Kung fu was my _life_...still is. Doesn't leave room for emotional attachments and petty concerns like that."

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Po saw that Tigress's sneer had faded completely into stunned understanding. There was also, unless he missed his guess, a gleam of respect in her eyes (most likely for the snow leopard turning out _not_ to be a womanizing beast)...and more than a little uncertainty. Perhaps what he'd said had hit a little too close to home for her, and she had recognized more than she wanted to of herself in him...

 

Meanwhile, Mantis and Monkey were still chuckling, causing a definite bent for murder to gleam in those golden eyes. "Hang it all, would you _please_ quit laughing?" He skewered the simian with his glare.

 

"Sorry," Monkey giggled, not sounding it at all. "It's just, I can't believe...at your age, and you've _never_ been with a girl?"

 

"I don't see _you_ dating much, monkey boy!"

 

The langur smirked knowingly. "You'd be surprised. But it's not my turn to answer."

 

"Fine then." The snow leopard whirled on Mantis, his persecutor. "Same question to you then, twiggy. When were _you_ first with a woman?"

 

For a moment the insect looked a little flustered himself, but then his expression cleared and he winked. "Well, I can tell you it wasn't with one of my own kind, or I wouldn't be here today. It was years ago, before anyone but the spotty cat here and Crane were born. As for what happened...I'll only say that a girl out there is now thoroughly convinced that size doesn't matter." He smirked, to the chorus of groans from everyone.

 

Once that had died down, he then looked back to Po, apparently having thought of something after all. The panda, afraid Mantis was about to ask him about _his_ sex life, tremulously accepted a dare instead...only that turned out to be worse, as the insect proceeded to ask him to imitate what Tai Lung was acting like during their battle for the Dragon Scroll...as exactly and truthfully as he could, down to the last little detail.

 

Cringing, and swearing to himself he would sit on Mantis later for this, Po did exactly that...and by the time he'd finished covering everything from the pitiful mew when he'd bitten his own tail, to how he'd looked as Po sat on him, to the way he'd staggered out of the snow-leopard-shaped crater, and the brief, relieved smile when he thought Po didn't know the Wuxi Finger Hold, everyone but Viper and Tigress were shedding tears of mirth.

 

Very slowly, Po turned to look at Tai Lung, trying to be as sheepish and apologetic as he could—nevertheless, the feline was more mortified, infuriated, and hateful than he'd seen him since their combat. He didn't know if this was all directed at him, or if some was also meant for Mantis and Monkey, but in any case he was certain he'd soon be taking the brunt of the feline's wrath, a fact which made the panda rather nervous.

 

And he was right to be worried. Because once all was calm again, the fiendish gleam in Tai Lung's golden eyes, and the way he crossed his arms smugly over his chest, perfectly matched his drawling voice as he revealed he had nothing good planned for his former adversary. "All right, panda, truth or dare?"

 

Po sighed and girded himself. _Might as well get it over with now_. "Dare."

 

The feline grinned evilly. "Dragon Warrior...I dare you to stand up, bend over, and try to touch the tips of your toes without bending your knees."

 

Again the room burst out in laughter, although Po noticed through his deep flush of shame that while Viper once again wasn't part of it, Tigress wasn't joining in on it either. Of course, she never had—when he'd overheard the Five discussing him while climbing the steps to the bunkhouse that first night, she had been angry, contemptuous, dismissive, but never directly mocking and certainly not making jokes at his expense. He had hoped the others had gotten over their disparagement of him, but it seemed Monkey, Mantis, and Crane couldn't resist a few needling jabs—or at least that they still saw the humorous implications of it all.

 

He wasn't going to refuse, though. Even apart from whatever terrible retribution Shifu would have in store for him, he wasn't going to give Tai Lung the satisfaction of seeing him give up. Whether the snow leopard came up with this all on his own, or had heard stories from Monkey and Mantis, didn't really matter; if the male members of the Five still had doubts about him, he would prove himself to them, too! And as had been the case in the kwoon...if humiliating himself was what it took to get Tai Lung to like and accept him, so be it.

 

Besides, he'd been working out. A little. He could do this now. And after what Mantis had made him do, he probably deserved this. Especially after he'd been so awed and excited by the tale of the WuShon fire demons.

 

Setting his jaw and fixing his gaze determinedly on the group of laughing males, he slid back on the mat, wriggled his rump, and leaned forward to support himself on his paws while he got his feet under him. In less than a minute he'd levered himself upright and stood looking down at the seated masters, whose laughter was now dying away as they saw the resolute expression on his broad face. Even Tai Lung seemed startled, and Viper looked very concerned. "Po...you don't have to do this."

 

"No. No, I do. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I've been practicin'." Taking a deep breath, he lifted his arms to shoulder height and swung them back and forth a few times to work himself up, then sucked in his gut as much as he could before snapping his legs straight and bending down.

 

He tried his best. He really did. And he almost made it, too! But just when he thought his fingers would touch his toes, the breath he'd been holding escaped, his belly bulged out—and suddenly top-heavy again, he tumbled forward, rolled across the floor, and smashed into the opposite wall. Luckily his belly also cushioned the blow, and the room next door wasn't occupied so he didn't disturb anyone's sleep. But as he tried to sit up again, his head quite dizzy, naturally he heard a great deal of laughter—with Tai Lung joining in.

 

"That was _not_ funny," Viper retorted, as she slithered over to check on Po. "And also very unfair to Po. Don't ever ask him to do anything like that again. And you!" She turned then to glare at Mantis and Monkey. "Don't egg Tai Lung on like that! This was supposed to be a way to have fun, not to mock people or laugh at their pain. You _especially_ should know better, Monkey! If I hear one more humiliating dare like that from either of you, I'll be talking to Shifu myself. Got it?"

 

That shut the laughing males up. All three of them had the grace to look abashed and apologize to Po, while even Tai Lung looked discomfited, avoiding looking at Tigress the whole while—who looked rather offended and upset by the treatment of the panda as well. And Mantis, who had been as impressed as anyone by the story the headman had told them, also made it a point to apologize to Tai Lung, saying his joke had only been meant in fun.

 

"It's okay, it's okay," Po said as he sat up and put a paw to his head with a groan. "'S'all just part of the game, right? Brought it on myself anyway...I should've taken the punishment from Master Shifu, instead of that dare...sorry, big guy..."

 

The snow leopard sighed and shook his head. "No, she's right, I took it too far, and I shouldn't have let them get to me." He glanced at Viper and Tigress again. "That was two dares in a row...so I suppose that means I have to suffer two now?" The serpent nodded, and Tai Lung forced himself to relax even as he murmured to himself. "It may just have been worth it...all right, fire away."

 

Surprisingly, it was Tigress who went next, and she seemed willing to go easy on him, perhaps because after Tai Lung's admission of his...chastity, she hadn't enjoyed what Mantis had made Po do anymore than the snow leopard had. "Truth or dare, Tai Lung."

 

He winced. "Truth."

 

She paused to gather her thoughts, then asked, "Other than not receiving the Dragon Scroll, what is your biggest regret?"

 

Po blinked; he heard someone (he thought it was Crane) whistle low. Tai Lung himself, however, seemed to take it in stride—at least he didn't look angry, merely thoughtful and a bit melancholy.

 

The minutes ticked by as the rain pattered and drummed on the inn roof, and then finally the snow leopard seemed to come to a decision and began to speak.

 

"I was eleven years old. Master Shifu had received a message from the southern cliffs, saying there'd been a freak wind storm, and the Thread of Hope had been snapped. A merchant train, as well as a group of villagers on a pilgrimage to the southern temples, had been caught on it when it fell, and they needed to be rescued. I raced there as fast as I could...when I got there, I found the bridge had fallen in two segments, and those who hadn't already fallen were hanging on the near side. I pulled up so many people, I lost count...and when I'd saved all the ones near the top, I tried to haul the bridge itself up, to get the others closer to the safety of the plateau...but...I couldn't."

 

He looked up from his paws, flexing them instinctively. "I...I saved as many as I could, but there were many who fell before I could get to them...and I couldn't lift the bridge fast enough.

 

"That's what I regret," Tai Lung finished at last. "Not being strong enough..."

 

Everyone was silent for a long time, not knowing what to say. Even Monkey was sobered by the experience, while Mantis looked like he wanted to scuttle over and rest his pincers on the big cat's leg. But it was Tigress who placed a paw on his shoulder and nodded. "I understand."

 

Crane, who still seemed quite upset at how he'd allowed himself to be amused by both Po's predicament and Tai Lung's humiliating defeat by the Dragon Warrior, cleared his throat uncomfortably. Then he tried to smile broadly, apparently attempting to cheer the snow leopard up. "Um...I won't even ask you, Tai Lung, this'll be an automatic truth question. What did you enjoy doing most with Master Shifu, as you were growing up in the Valley?"

 

"You mean, aside from kung fu training?" the spotted feline asked sardonically. When Crane nodded, he rubbed his chin musingly and then chuckled a little. "Well, before I got so wrapped up in studying to master all the thousand scrolls, I'd have to say...fishing."

 

"Fishing?" Crane echoed.

 

"That's right," Tai Lung replied, a bit defensively. "There are a hell of a lot of little streams running through the Valley, you know. And we'd go up in the mountains, too. He always tried to make it some kind of training exercise to hide what he was up to—hand-to-eye coordination, instilling patience in me, not to trust appearances, that sort of thing. But I knew what he was really up to...and it was...relaxing." He smirked, showing off a fanged grin. "Not to mention a very different sort of battle, where you got to _eat_ the loser."

 

Mantis snickered. "Typical cat."

 

The bird, on the other hand, was smiling, and rested his wing feathers on Tai Lung's arm. "Hey, maybe you and I should try that sometime, then. Maybe you didn't notice, but I like to eat fish, too."

 

He clacked his bill suggestively, drawing a barking laugh from the snow leopard. "You're on!"

 

Another few moments passed, during which everyone looked at each other in a much more friendly and amused fashion—except for Tigress, who seemed rather disgruntled at yet another mention of the close ties and warm relationship the snow leopard had once shared with Shifu which she had not. Then they all resumed their seats in the circle, and Po finally clapped his paws together as he looked around at them all. "All right, this one goes out to all of the Furious Five, then: did you have to pose for your action figures? And if so, why'd you pick the poses you did?" The five masters groaned.

 

And so it went, for the better part of an hour, as questions and dares flew fast and at times sarcastically around the circle. Monkey asked Crane how many times he'd taken embarrassing falls while learning to fly as a chick (he'd lost count between five and ten). Tigress challenged Viper to go a full day without her make-up (something which made the reptile go very pale), but then the serpent got her revenge by daring Tigress to wear the make-up instead, along with her flower headdress.

 

The striped feline then coerced Tai Lung into finally accepting a dare—at which point she insisted he had to take over cleaning the communal bathhouse for a whole month. Snarling under his breath, he shot one right back at her by forcing her to admit to a 'girly' pastime—after much frowning and dithering, the fact that she enjoyed getting a deep massage and other beauty treatments at the local sauna. This, she snapped, was something she usually avoided since it was something only single women with no jobs or rich wives indulged in...which only made Tai Lung chuckle and surmise that made her a single woman with no job.

 

Just for that little sally, Po dared Tai Lung to praise him, the way the panda had been hero-worshipping the ex-convict for the past two weeks. Surprisingly, the snow leopard was a good sport about it, and while a couple of his digs were not much better than those of the Five (flaming balls from the sky and the ground shaking when he walked were once again brought up), quite a number of laughs greeted his over-the-top, highly melodramatic re-enactment of his speech at the Thread of Hope.

 

Then, surely to get back at the simian for his earlier teasing regarding still retaining his virginity, Tai Lung demanded to know Monkey's most embarrassing moment—which, of course, proved to be the day he slipped on a banana peel and his pants fell down around his ankles. Monkey, seeming to have learned his lesson, challenged Tai Lung to do something completely ridiculous but not really demeaning—burying his muzzle in Po's belly and blowing hard, a feat which made both of them dissolve into laughter after only a minute or so.

 

Sitting up and trying to recover some semblance of dignity, the snow leopard then turned to Crane and asked him, in all seriousness, just where and how he'd learned to write such beautiful calligraphy. Blushing furiously, the bird had ducked his head until only his hat could be seen, mumbling it had been at the Li Dai Academy, and from an old friend. He then turned to Po and asked him an old stand-by: if he could be anyone else in the room for a day, who would he choose?

 

The panda didn't even hesitate, immediately naming Tigress, as she was his favorite among the Furious Five, the most awesome hero, and always would be...a statement which actually made her cheeks flush darkly and a small smile of pleasure appear on her lips. He'd beamed right back at her, his heart thudding hard in his chest as he witnessed what he hoped was a mending of fences between them, Tigress accepting that he could be Tai Lung's friend without snubbing her.

 

After that renewed hope, another bubbly and random query then came from the Dragon Warrior, something he'd always wanted to know of Viper: just how did she pay for all her beauty accessories and the romance novels she imported? The serpent had a very simple reply, too: she sold her venom to traveling healers, for usage in making antidotes.

 

By this time, the storm finally seemed to be breaking up outside, as the thunder had retreated faintly into the distance, the lightning now flashed only infrequently, and the rain and wind were only a soft sighing and dripping beyond the windows. Taking that as a cue to bring the game to a close, Viper at last rose up and pursed her lips consideringly, looking around the room one more time before she at last rested her eyes on Tai Lung. "All right, last one for the night, and then I think we'll all be able to get some sleep. But I have to warn you—it's a dare."

 

Tai Lung grinned lopsidedly at her, seeming much more relaxed and at ease than he'd ever been in their presence; despite how the Truth or Dare had started, Po had to commend Viper for the idea, since it had apparently done the trick. All of them were much friendlier and enjoying each other's company, with Tai Lung the most laid back of all, his paws clasped loosely behind his head as he leaned back against the bedpost. "Very well, I've made it this far and weathered everything you all threw at me. What can one more hurt?"

 

As if she'd been waiting to hear just such an admission, Viper bared her fangs briefly in a naughty smile (which made Po wonder just how wise it had been to give her free rein), and then she said, nonchalantly, "I'm glad you said that. Because I dare you to kiss Tigress. Right now. With tongue." And she sat back with a very smug expression.

 

Silence, for a few heartbeats...and then everything started happening at once. Mantis collapsed in laughter on the floor, his legs actually kicking in the air. Po just missed spilling the rest of the cider jug as it slipped from his slack grip. Crane leaned against the wall and started fanning himself as if he felt faint. And everyone else started talking, or rather arguing, over one another.

 

"That is patently unfair!" Tai Lung burst out, sitting up and stabbing a finger toward Tigress. "That makes whether I meet your terms entirely dependent on someone else. It involves two people instead of one, it shouldn't count!"

 

Viper continued to look, ironically, like the cat that swallowed the canary. "Ah ah, I never said more than one person couldn't be involved in a dare, just that only one _had_ to be. Theoretically, there could have been a dare made for all seven of us. And anyway, you already did a dare involving someone else when you blew on Po's belly."

 

"A blessed loophole!"

 

"What _ever_ gave you the idea I'd agree to something like that?" Tigress snarled, her claws unsheathed and brandished at the serpent; apparently their apology of earlier had been forgotten. "I'd sooner kiss a pig! A dirty, _smelly_ pig!"

 

"Goodness, princess," the snow leopard smirked suggestively at her. "Am I really as bad as all that? Why don't you tell me how you _really_ feel?"

 

"I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last man on earth!"

 

Mantis let out another whooping gale of laughter.

 

"Good, because she's not going to!" Monkey stalked over and positioned himself between the cats, glaring down at Viper. "What d'you think you're trying to pull, Viper? Even if Tai Lung do change, he ain't never gonna be anything but a friend to any of us."

 

The serpent rose up on her coils and met the simian's gaze unflinchingly, even as she maintained the same bemused smile. "It's just a little harmless fun. And if a friend's all he'll ever be, and it doesn't mean anything, then what's the problem?"

 

Po shot her a sharp glance, as suddenly things made sense—a scary kind of sense. _She knew_. She knew that there was a spark of something between the felines, that at least one of them had designs on the other, who was in turn resisting. And she was trying to... _Oh no. This is gonna be a disaster. She's been readin' too many romance novels!_

 

Meanwhile, Tai Lung was now glaring at Tigress with as much molten heat as she was—apparently her last shot had crossed the line from humorous to outright insulting. "Well that's a bit unfortunate for you, eh? Because I _am_ the last man on earth. The last _real_ one, anyway."

 

Mantis, who had started to wind down, let out a new round of giggles and chuckles. "Oooo, you should _not_ have said that! You're gonna be paying for that one for _years_!"

 

Indeed, the striped feline looked ready to explode, and would likely have set upon Tai Lung with fangs and claws as well as pummeling fists if Viper hadn't risen up to quite forcefully push her back, and even wrapped her tail around one of Tigress's arms. "Don't...don't...he's just baiting you. And you did have it coming; that was a _terrible_ thing to say!"

 

Still glaring at her, even if he looked less certain of himself and aware of the faux pas he'd made, Tai Lung crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and finally turned his face away dismissively. "Why I should want to kiss an ice queen like you anyway is quite beyond me..."

 

The Dragon Warrior heard more than a little sour grapes in that statement—and he also thought he knew why the snow leopard was being so reluctant, aside from the nasty things Tigress had said about him. In the forest the night before, he had poured his heart out to the striped feline...and she had trodden upon it as if it were no more than sackcloth. He had pledged his love, and she had insisted he had deluded himself with an infatuation, or that he only loved an imaginary Tigress. After being hurt so deeply, why would he wish to prolong the agony with a kiss, tempting him with what could never be?

 

And if he still believed he could somehow win her...well, being compelled to kiss her in front of the Five was hardly the right way to go about it.

 

Tigress heard him, of course, and somehow managed to be stunned and upset by his words—even though he was hardly the first to accuse her of being cold. "Well, why would I want to kiss an old man like you? You're almost twice my age, damnit!"

 

In spite of himself Tai Lung grinned cockily. "But I don't have the body of an old man, now do I?"

 

Mantis gave up entirely on trying to get up again, only wheezing and gasping between laughs. "I can't breathe, I can't breathe..."

 

Viper shot a harsh look at Tai Lung to shut him up, then turned the same expression on Tigress. "Stop it, you're both acting like children! Now, you both agreed to the rules of this game at the outset, and you're going to adhere to them, or you know the consequences."

 

"I'll take my chances," Tigress purred dangerously, never taking her eyes off the other cat for a second. "And if Shifu knew what you'd asked of me, he'd agree with me!"

 

"All I'd tell him is you disobeyed and cost Tai Lung a chance to become closer to you," the serpent said ominously. "And I'd love to hear you confess to our master just what had been asked of you."

 

That seemed to faze her, as the striped feline took a step back and cringed visibly, her ears drooping and tail lashing slowly. "But...but...he's so _old_ ," she protested again.

 

"Age just gives me more experience," the snow leopard purred confidently.

 

"You're a virgin," she pointed out flatly, with more than a hint of vicious vindication.

 

"That sort of thing comes naturally. And I've always been a quick study." He leered at her.

 

Snarling in disgust, Tigress took another step back and balled her fists on her hips. "And we were both adopted by Master Shifu. It'd be like...kissing my brother!"

 

"Except for the ways it's not," Crane noted somewhat clinically from the side. "Since, you know, you're not really related..." He trailed off as both cats and Monkey skewered him with glares, then interlaced his wing feathers and ducked back beneath his hat again. "Uh...I'll be over here now."

 

Po, who had been watching the proceedings with more and more alarm, his gaze tracking and bouncing back and forth between everyone (when he wasn't simply hiding his eyes behind his paws), finally tried to be the voice of reason...a very quiet, small one. "Uh...Viper...doesn't this seem like it's not fun anymore, if ya gotta force 'em? Maybe you should drop it and—"

 

But the serpent ignored him, only staring meaningfully at first one feline master, then the other. And finally, after darting her eyes about for some avenue of escape (but there was none, as both Tai Lung and Viper were between her and the door, and she clearly didn't want to leap out the window into the rain), Tigress sighed heavily. "Oh fine, whatever. Let's just get it over with then, shall we?" Her voice dropped to a mutter. "And maybe baking soda paste will get rid of the taste afterward..."

 

For several long moments, everyone was frozen, waiting to see what would happen—Mantis as if he longed to have more snacks to wolf down as he watched avidly, Monkey looking more furious than Po had ever seen him, and Po himself eyeing Tigress oddly, for a strange thought had just struck him.

 

He remembered his dad, or maybe it was Shifu, saying something once about the 'woman who protested too much'. What if she were fighting this kiss so vehemently...because she secretly wanted it, and didn't want that confirmed, for herself or the rest of them? What if her excuse in the forest had been just that, a way to ward him away so she wouldn't have to contemplate her real feelings? Or what if she really wanted to be sure Tai Lung truly loved her, because she was starting to care too deeply for him and didn't want to be hurt?

 

It couldn't be...could it? But then Oogway had said nothing was impossible...

 

Finally, Tai Lung stirred and strode forward, surprisingly restraining himself from adopting his typical strut. When he was only a few inches away from Tigress, for a moment his expression became unusually gentle, even tender. "I promise it won't hurt, or be as arduous as all that," he said lightly.

 

"Spare me," she spat scathingly. "Just don't expect me to enjoy it."

 

"No, that'd be too much, wouldn't it?" he growled. "Hussy."

 

"Bastard."

 

"Bitch."

 

"You _wish_."

 

And then they were kissing.

 

Po's jaw dropped. He suspected everyone else's had, too—he knew Mantis had stopped laughing abruptly, at any rate—but he couldn't check, because he couldn't tear his eyes away. At first it was a very stiff and unemotional example of the breed, quite perfunctory and unremarkable.

 

But then, as the moments passed, and it kept extending, things changed. Tigress's knees started to buckle...Tai Lung's arm came up around her, first to offer support, then to cradle her close against his body...both tails began to lash, only to gradually intertwine...eyes slid closed, muzzles turned at just the right angle, the way it was always described in all those old stories. And softly at first, then more loudly, the sounds of two purrs could be discerned in the silent room.

 

Finally Monkey let out a hooting grunt and took hold of both their shoulders to pull them apart. "Okay, okay, that's enough. I think they satisfied your dare, don't you, Viper?"

 

"I think so," she smiled somewhat dazedly as she watched the two felines. For several more moments they remained locked together, and even Po who knew little of such things had to admit they looked rather romantic together. Then Tigress, who'd relaxed enough to adopt a dreamy cast to her features, finally seemed to come back to herself. Furrowing her brows and narrowing her golden ruby eyes, she pulled away somewhat roughly and stepped back from Tai Lung.

 

Although she didn't do anything as ostentatious as rub the back of her paw across her mouth, she did stare at him in resentment, anger...and uncertainty. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it...tried again, then flicked her eyes to Monkey and the rest of them before abruptly turning and fleeing the room without a word.

 

For a long moment, the snow leopard stared after her, one paw upraised as if he honestly thought he could call her back. Then he shook himself and turned back...his face closing as he retreated once again behind his debonair, sardonic façade. "Well," he drawled. "It's a good thing you saved that for last, Mistress Viper. After that, anything else would be anticlimactic. Anyway, I thank you all for such an...interesting evening. It's such a shame though, really..."

 

"What is?" Monkey said suspiciously.

 

Tai Lung crossed his arms over his chest again and smirked. "Just that, if you'd been using your brains, rather than only looking for amusement from this game, you'd have dared me to do something else." He turned and strolled to the door, leaving his thought hanging and all of them standing stock still, until he was almost out of sight—then he glanced back over his shoulder. "Such as, I don't know...teaching you all my Leopard Claw nerve strike."

 

And with that, he was gone down the hallway.

 

As what the snow leopard said sank in, Monkey smacked his hand hard into his forehead, groaning, and Mantis soon followed suit with his pincer. Viper, however, only looked inordinately pleased with herself despite the fact that, with Tigress having run out on them, it seemed she and the leader of the Five were exchanging rooms for the rest of the night.

 

More silence. Then, trying to muster up as much enthusiasm and excitement as he could, Po reached down, picked up one of their guttering candles, and held it beneath his chin so the flame cast its halo over his face and flickering shadows beneath his muzzle. "So, uh...who's up for tellin' some spooky stories?"

                                                                   

* * *

 

His name was Shing Fai. His family had lived in Yunxian for many generations, and he himself had run a successful and thriving farm on the outskirts of the valley for many years. Every summer, after the season's crops had been planted and before the harvest was to be reaped, he made the journey into town—to pick up supplies, food, entertainment, and gossip in equal measure.

 

His children, all fully grown now, lived on the far side of the village, and ranged from successful blacksmith sons who were rather deprecating of their father's quaint, old-fashioned ties to the earth, to daughters who had married into the magistrate's family and now wanted nothing more to do with him. And plenty of grandchildren who adored seeing him on his infrequent visits, when he brought them sugarcane treats and small, hand-made toys. His wife, aged but still spry, stayed on the farm to tend the hearth fire and look after all the duties and tasks which needed doing while he was away—she didn't get around as well as he did, and didn't enjoy trips into town anyway...most of her friends had moved away or passed on.

 

So, the goose made the trek alone, dragging his small, rickety handcart filled with eggplants, squash, and melons behind him as he followed the well-worn, rutted road from the western hills. And truth be told, that was how he liked it. He'd never been a very garrulous fellow, and being alone allowed him time to think, to take in the beauty of nature, and to happily hum to himself without annoying anyone else.

 

He'd left midmorning, to give himself plenty of time to get there before dark, but he had underestimated the weight of his load and overestimated his own supply of energy. Then, too, there had been the procession of Imperial soldiers he'd had to stand aside for for several hours, and the surprising number of travelers he encountered whom he knew—ones who just had to spend even more time chatting blithely away with him heedless of the time or other people's schedules. Not that he didn't enjoy it, but he didn't want to have to stay in town any longer than necessary—his wife would worry.

 

And he didn't want to be caught outside after night fell.

 

There were stories and legends, of course, of dark spirits and fell beasts which haunted the forests and mountains in these parts, as there always had been—and while he had never personally encountered one, it never hurt to be careful, especially after being frightened into good behavior as a boy by his grandmother's tales. The _yaoguai_ of WuShon Mountain were one such. But even beyond such ancient mysticism, he had another reason for fearing these isolated trails. Stories had begun to filter in of a much more recent creation, and a much more modern bent.

 

Someone, or something, was hunting and stalking the western provinces. The whispers had come from Qinghai and Gansu first...of something no one ever saw (at least, none who then lived to speak of it), only its very real and undeniable marks and...leavings. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to its atrocities, nothing to explain how or why it chose its victims, or if it had any motivation beyond base cruelty and mindless slaughter.

 

All he knew was that stern, gruff men—men who had seen war, men who had experienced firsthand how terrible and wicked other men could be—had turned pale or even seemed in danger of losing their last meals when they spoke of just what had been done to the dead. And most frightening of all was this specter's speed. Somehow a journey which should have taken two weeks, one at a minimum, had been covered in only four days. For the killings had spread eastward...across Ningxia and Sha'anxi, Sichuan and Chongong...

 

And just yesterday, merchants had brought word of them from across the border in Henan.

 

If Shing Fai had known of the Furious Five, the Dragon Warrior, and their master having arrived in Yunxian, he might have felt more at ease. If he'd known of Tai Lung also being with them, he would surely have felt safe. As it was, he could not help but curse his aching joints and wearied limbs that slowed him so, and wish that he were still young enough to abandon his produce and simply fly the rest of the way.

 

So it was that when he found himself still outside the valley when night fell, the farmer was utterly terrified...constantly looking back over his shoulder or peering into the forest foliage, trying to keep his eyes on every unusual shape and shifting shadow in the faint moonlight. When it began to rain, he had offered a quick prayer to Yu-zu to spare him this storm, but apparently the god's pot had needed emptying no matter what mortals wanted, for the weather had only worsened as the night progressed.

 

Quite often he'd had to take shelter behind tree trunks or under bushes to protect himself from the pounding sheets of water. Between that, the darkness, and the covering of the moon by the clouds, he could not see more than a few feet in front of him...let alone to know if anyone or anything were nearby, following him. Yet good fortune was with him after all, for somehow both he and his cart made it through the worst of the squall, drenched and soaked but otherwise well. Though he couldn't help but wonder later on, looking back with hindsight, if he had been spared for a reason...as a messenger.

 

It happened when he reached the final hilltop overlooking Yunxian. He had dragged his cart to a halt, panting and wiping his sweaty brow with his wing feathers, then stared down through the draping veil of fine mist still descending from the heavens. The twinkling lanterns of the village, though few and far between at this late hour, were more than welcome to his waterlogged, weary body, and the goose could only smile happily as water dripped from his bill.

 

But then...he heard something.

 

Slowly, very slowly, Shing Fai turned around to look tremulously behind him. At first, he saw nothing but the same endless forest landscape he'd been struggling through all day, heard only the sighing of the wind, the creaking of the branches, and the distant rumble of thunder...and he was quite convinced he was imagining things, that this would be the last time he would ever make the trip into town—not unless he left before the crack of dawn, anyway.

 

Then, gradually, he made out something between the trunks...something tall, broad, and massive, yet at the same time almost seeming shapeless, as if it were formed from the fog around him, constantly changing size with the vagaries of the wind or its own whims. Even in the night's dark shadows, it seemed impenetrably black, like a blot on his sight—an absence not only of light, but of life, of goodness, of soul. It did not move, and yet he knew it was there, it was real. And it hated—not him in particular, but all living things, the world itself.

 

"Wh-who's there?" he squawked tremulously, trying futilely to keep the terror from cracking his voice.

 

No response.

 

"A-are you...lost? Th-there's a town, just a few more miles that way. They have a v-very nice inn, you can get warm food, rest, dry...off..."

 

In the short time he had looked away to point down at Yunxian, the figure had vanished.

 

The wind moaned in the treetops again, keening like someone being tortured in agony, but otherwise there was no other sound. Feeling he had expended the meager store of his hospitality—more than was warranted, truth be told—the goose started to turn away again to lift the handles of his cart. But at that moment two things happened almost simultaneously that caused him to forget all about it, to abandon it entirely.

 

A rush of air surged past him to the right. He had an impression of a deep, bone-chilling cold, strong enough to sap all life and warmth from him forever, and he was surprised his breath didn't begin fogging immediately. There was also something there, something not made of shadows, something definitely large, solid...and threatening. But it passed him by, he was not its target. Not yet. It had only been a warning...for today.

 

At the same moment, as he whirled about to try and catch a better glimpse of his attacker, clapping a wing to his chest to still his aged heart, a lurid flash of lightning illuminated the sky above the hilltop clearing. And in its stark white glow, he could see what he could not before...something else had been there, where the shadow had stood so intently and eerily watching him. Something which had once been alive. Something which now hung suspended from the trunk of a ginkgo tree, limbs splayed—and violently, furiously nailed into the wood behind it.

 

He saw dark stains which looked black in the night, now revealed as a murky red.

 

He saw a face twisted by terrible pain and fear, eyes sticky and sightless as they stared without seeing from a dangling head, a head with horns—a goat.

 

He saw the rest of the body hanging loosely, yet at the same time stiffened by the rictus of death...only, it wasn't all there anymore.

 

And he saw one other thing, before the lightning bolt faded, leaving him in a darkness comforting because it hid the horrible sight, yet also worthy of molting because he was left alone in it with the thing he couldn't see. It was a thing burned into his mind as he dropped his cart, turned toward the road, and ran as fast as his old legs could carry him toward the village, screaming piercingly into the storm and the night.

 

The goat, an old friend of his and a common sight at many a tavern in town, still wore the remnants of his Hanfu _pao_...and crudely scrawled across what had once been a yellow cross-collar were four words in bright red ink—or more likely, blood:

 

"TAI LUNG—I COME."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another cliffhanger—get used to these! And this is also what is known as Mood Whiplash, or another example of my setting up deliberate contrasts. 
> 
> Shifu knowing about how to check for pests in rice paddies is yet another shout-out to "Memoirs", while as Po himself stated, the story of the fire demons is a direct reference to Po's dream from the beginning of the first movie, sans the fight at the inn. Yunxian is a real town in Hubei, though I have no idea if its surroundings look as I've described them. There are mountains in the region, though. You'll also notice I bucked the trend of Tai Lung having gotten a chance to go down to the village when he was of age to experience the opposite sex. Partly this was just so I could have the amusing reactions when the little fact of Tai's virginity was revealed, but mostly it was because I fully believe Mr. Uptight, I-Must-Have-the-Dragon-Scroll, would not have bothered himself with anything but kung fu; not being interested in having fun or taking pleasure in anything but mastering the scrolls also applies to romance. More on this later.
> 
> Also, an amusing point of interest. I can't recall what caused me to go looking to check it out, but I discovered that while the specific name "Truth or Dare" is a modern invention, the game itself or variations on it is centuries old and dates back to 18th-century England where it was called "Questions and Commands", as well as ancient Greece and, yes, ancient China where it was called "Truth or Risk". So it seems that if I'd done just a little bit more research and digging, I'd have found that I could include the game and not have it be anachronistic at all! Well, except for the name I used. I left it as it is in the story though, partly because it's more recognizable this way and also because I still find it amusing Viper learned of it from an imported book (although even if the story takes place during the Ming Dynasty, as I have become more and more convinced works best for it, that's still too early to have gotten it from England through trade).
> 
> The last section is also somewhat in homage to David Eddings; one of his fond practices is to suddenly introduce a POV from a random minor character to provide a different, outside perspective on events, and I found that to be effective here. Although the very last bit with the message left behind is a shout-out to John Bellairs' classic Gothic horror novel, _The Figure in the Shadows_ , which is still one of my favorite books (the whole series, really) and one of the best creepy children's books I've ever read.


	18. Answers and Questions

 

At the doorway of one of the inn's bedchambers, a small, large-eared form stood poised, silent and still, the wooden floor not even creaking under his weight, and the tiniest of fond…but also extremely wistful and bittersweet…smiles turning up the corners of his mouth as he gazed into the room beyond.

 

He was watching Tai Lung sleep.

 

Sighing to himself, Shifu clasped his tiny paws together so as not to nervously twiddle and fidget. It was something he had begun out of necessity when the snow leopard was only an infant, an obsessive need to check and make sure his new charge was safe, content, and well. During the terrible twos it had become even more required, since like almost all children Tai Lung had the unfortunate tendency to wake up in the middle of the night, thirsty or hungry, and then would stubbornly refuse to lie down again…or be quiet…no matter how much others in the Jade Palace might long for sleep.

 

And then it had simply become a habit he had fallen into, one which became all the more important to him as the boy approached adolescence—during the day, he refused any kind of 'sissy stuff', especially displays of affection and a father's doting and hovering, so spying on him at night was the only way to reclaim even a remnant of the past…of the days when the feline had been only too happy to cuddle, nuzzle, and cling to him with earnest, unabashed love.

 

Even now, in sleep, the massive and powerful man his son had become—nearly forty years old—looked surprisingly…peaceful. Whatever twenty years of incarceration, darkness, paralysis, and endless brooding on revenge and the power of his destiny had done to him, he seemed not to suffer from nightmares now. All the pain and anguish, the ravages of loss, the sorrow and resentment which always seemed to haunt his features when awake…they had retreated, or vanished altogether. He looked so handsome…like the good boy he had once been.

 

Why could he not have that boy back?

 

Shifu shook his head at his own maudlin fixation. An old man's dream. He should know better than to think such things, to believe that the past could live again. No matter what he did for Tai Lung, no matter how he might redeem himself and hold true to the noble path once laid out for him, there was no way his innocence, or the closeness they had once shared, could ever return. No matter what Oogway said, some things truly were impossible.

 

But that didn't stop it from hurting.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut, the red panda could not help the images that rose unbidden to him from his memories: the first time he'd held the baby left on their doorstep, after the local midwife showed him how to do it (complete with the blessedly critical knowledge on the proper usage of a 'shoulder-bib'); gazing down into that adorable face after a feeding, when a full belly and warm arms had caused him to yawn hugely and drift off into slumber; watching him scamper madly about the temple, getting underfoot, knocking over messengers in a flurry of startled feathers, but somehow never toppling Oogway as the turtle always stepped aside at the last moment with preternatural insight; teaching the boy his first letters, and seeing the dawning of knowledge in those intelligent eyes.

 

Later, after he'd begun his kung fu training, seeing him smash apart one device after another in the kwoon, only to demand more, deadlier, faster; the day he'd mastered the five-hundredth scroll, and proceeded to demonstrate…in a blur of twisting, spinning, limber movements…each and every one in order, to the generous and genuinely amazed applause of Oogway; peals of laughter ringing through the kitchen on his eighth birthday, when an exploding present courtesy of the Emperor had left Tai Lung covered with streamers and confetti…

 

He knew when such amusing and playful times had come to an end, of course. Adolescence, when Tai Lung had decided to set aside the silliness and games of childhood so as to focus, seriously and with every ounce of his will, on achieving the mastery of all the scrolls, obtaining the Dragon Scroll…proving himself worthy of his father's praise, of being a true hero of China. And he knew, if he was completely honest with himself, what had caused the change.

 

Whether because he believed it the right way to raise a man, because it seemed the only way to create the next Dragon Warrior, or because only such a person could truly master all one thousand scrolls…he had taught Tai Lung to be strong above everything else. And the snow leopard had equated strength with hardness…so that not only his physique, but also his heart became like granite. Shifu rarely expressed his emotions, that was (he believed) the woman's way…so Tai Lung had imitated him, and so lost that sweet and gentle innocence the panda had so treasured.

 

At the same time, in open contradiction, he had also done his level best to protect Tai Lung from the world…refusing to let him leave the Jade Palace after a certain age unless it were a special mission or he were accompanied by temple guardsmen, determined that the boy would not experience the travesties and cruelties of life until he were old enough to understand, accept, and survive them. But by keeping him behind closed doors and stone walls, never interacting with the Valley's citizens—those whom he literally lived above—he had kept the boy from love and compassion…had bred contempt and superiority toward the peasantry who did not know kung fu and didn't receive special attention as he did. Tai Lung had no friends, no fellow students, even no rivals.

 

By the time warriors from other academies came to test their knowledge and strength against the mighty snow leopard, it was too late—the feline only looked down his nose at them, refusing to mingle or fraternize with those he deemed beneath him, only caring about the tournaments and contests. And while he did not cheat or otherwise fight dishonorably, neither did he enjoy the combats or consider himself having learned anything from them—the only joy he took was in winning, and with enough skill and prowess that he would receive that coveted nod and smile from his master. Beyond that, they bored him, his impatience to get back to the thousand scrolls making each only an exercise in proving he was the one destined for the Dragon Scroll, not those he fought.

 

It was Shifu's own fault, what happened the day Oogway did not grant the snow leopard the scroll. How else should he have expected the boy to react? Completely aside from being raised to believe it was his destiny and he had no other purpose than to become the Dragon Warrior, he had been emotionally sheltered, if not cut off from them entirely—all he had ever known was to fight. Of course he would go on a rampage, of course he would lash out, hurt, kill…

 

Opening his eyes and gazing down again at Tai Lung's still face, his calm and measured breaths as his chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep, the red panda found himself inexplicably recalling the last time he'd seen him lying prone like that. The day twenty years ago, after Oogway had used the nerve strike to put an end to the rampage…when he also lay unmoving on the cold marble floor of the Hall of Warriors, his broken leg immobilizing him, yet he could not stop himself from trying to crawl toward the collapsed form of his ward…one paw outstretched futilely before finally falling away.

 

He could not have offered comfort—nothing he could say or do could give Tai Lung what he craved, or make up for his many mistakes. And if the villagers had seen him making the attempt, after the feline had murdered so many of their friends and families, they would have furiously—and rightfully—demanded Shifu vacate the premises, and the Valley. He could not show favoritism.

 

But that hadn't changed the fact it was his boy lying there. And that somehow, even though it made no sense, he had felt if he could only touch him, hold him as he once did, everything would be all right.

 

Roughly wiping away the tears that had come to his eyes, Shifu couldn't help feeling, even now, that after what he had done, it would have been properly karmic if Po had not made it to the temple in time. If Tai Lung had succeeded in killing him. It was what he deserved. But since he was not dead, all that was left…was to find some way, somehow, to make up for the grievous injury he had done the snow leopard—and let him know, once and for all, that he could be forgiven…because Shifu really did love him…

 

Suddenly, in a completely incongruous contrast to Shifu's tender and paternal thoughts, the peaceful, still silence of early morning was broken by a piercing scream from somewhere outside—quickly occurring twice more, then no longer repeated. While the red panda clapped a hand to his chest and tried to soothe his racing heart, the sleeping form of Tai Lung sat bolt upright in bed, shoulders tense and eyes narrowed as they flicked about, rapidly trying to discern whatever danger had appeared to menace him.

 

It was startling, and disheartening, to watch the change in the snow leopard as he woke…how the contentedness, warmth, and gentle nature of his features almost immediately returned to their usual harsh, suspicious, distrustful cast, how everything about him became rigid, focused, and wary. Like a predator constantly ready to pounce on his prey, or an animal afraid of being caught in a trap. Some of this, he knew, was due to his disciplined training—but just as much, he feared, dated to his time in Chorh-Gom.

 

After determining there was nothing amiss in the room, Tai Lung at last glanced to the doorway and spied Shifu. For a moment he kept his eyes slitted and his mouth pressed in a disapproving line. Then he visibly forced himself to relax—although his expression didn't lose its confusion. "Master? What's going on? Is someone hurt? Or is the village under attack?"

 

"I…don't know." The red panda frowned, as now that he was no longer preoccupied with Tai Lung, he had no idea himself what was going on. Whoever had screamed, Yunxian was hardly known for violence or disturbances of any kind, not even crime. The only time in recent memory, of course, was when the _yaoguai_ attacked…and if they had somehow managed to free themselves from WuShon, Shifu was fairly certain there would be more than one shrieking citizen. What seemed even more odd, though, was that no one had come to the inn to ask the Five and their master for help. Something rather dire must have grabbed their attention.

 

And while some might accuse him of being a busybody, Shifu felt it was his duty to find out what was taking place—and if at all possible, set it to rights.

 

"Come," he said decisively. "I'll gather the others, and we'll get to the bottom of this." As he tucked his hands in his sleeves and started to turn away, Shifu noticed Tai Lung sigh heavily and look resigned, but then he squared his shoulders and nodded firmly in acceptance…and the panda had to smile to himself. _One step at a time._

 

It took less than fifteen minutes to gather most of the Five—Tigress and Crane, as always, were light sleepers, the former ready to fight at a moment's notice, and Mantis seemed able to get by on meditation alone. Viper complained (but not too loudly) about not being granted the time to put on her face, and Po of course was the last to rise—his snoring interrupted by mutterings of 'feel the thunder' and 'shashabooey' until Tai Lung (carefully) kicked him awake. Once all were conscious and prepared, and Monkey had trailed along behind them, the masters followed Shifu as he sought out the village headman for answers.

 

Apparently they were not the only ones wanting to know the cause of the disturbance. For when they reached the headman's house in the center of town, the boar stood in the dirt street, completely surrounded by milling, chattering, extremely upset villagers. To one side, on the stoop of the local tavern, sat an old goose in the somewhat threadbare garments of a peasant farmer, his eyes permanently wide with trauma, his cheeks pale with terror, his bill working soundlessly as he stared off into space.

 

Nearby, a squat, grandmotherly sheep who looked to be a washerwoman stood tremulously weeping in the arms of the innkeeper, blubbering so incoherently she was as useless as the goose. Whether either of them had confided in the headman before retreating into insensibility wasn't clear, but the townsfolk certainly seemed to think they had. The boar, as a result, looked harried and frustrated—and actually quite relieved when Shifu's arrival gave him an excuse to pull free of the crowd.

 

"Master Shifu, thank goodness you're here!" the pig exclaimed fervently. "I was just about to send for you. You won't believe what's just happened…"

 

"Calm down, friend. Go slowly, one step at a time, and tell us what happened." The panda placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

The headman swallowed hard, nodded, then spoke again—hurriedly, in a hoarse whisper. "Master Shing here," and he gestured to the goose, "was coming into town during the storm last night, and he found something…terrible."

 

"What sort of something?" Tai Lung demanded from the other side, coming close to loom over the boar. He seemed surprisingly intense, but also typically impatient. "What aren't you telling us?"

 

The headman hesitated, clearly debating with himself, then licked dry lips before gesturing to the south. "I…I can't really bring myself to say. Perhaps it's better if you…see for yourself."

 

Shifu frowned thoughtfully as the eight of them followed the elder through Yunxian's narrow streets toward the road that headed up into the mountains. What was going on? Not to brag, but as kung fu masters they were used to all manner of violence, death, and injury. What could possibly have occurred to justify the headman treating them with such caution and solicitation, not to mention the state the farmer and washerwoman were in? What would they find, and see?

 

Despite his many years of being exposed to the worst of what sentient beings could do, even Shifu was not prepared for what they discovered. By the time the headman had explained that Shing Fai had come barreling into the village in the middle of the night, screaming that a demon had come to murder them all in their beds; his wife had brewed the goose a calming tea and insisted he rest until morning; and after the sun rose, the washerwoman had ventured to the hilltop to determine the veracity of the farmer's story, the group had arrived at the same deep forest grove. And as soon as they laid eyes on the atrocity which had been committed there, everyone was stunned speechless.

 

As the headman had tried haltingly to explain to them, the poor old goat had essentially been crucified upon the ginkgo tree—which meant, of course, the nails had been driven in while he still lived. What was worse than the gaping wounds in his outflung wrists, however, and the fact he'd also been impaled through his heart and each shoulder by sawed-off spears, was that the entire lower half of his body was gone…and if the amount of dangling flesh and blood soaking the ground were any indication, he had also been literally gutted.

 

For several horrified moments, the warriors stared in shock at this gruesome display. Then, with a violent shudder, Viper burst into tears and buried her face in Po's gigantic, cushioned belly. The panda himself looked so nauseated by the sight, even as he awkwardly caressed the back of the serpent's head, that he seemed ready to bring up his last meal—which with his appetite was saying something.

 

Everyone else seemed equally silent, furious, and upset—ranging from Tigress's blazing eyes and white-knuckled grip on her arms to Monkey's menacing glower and Crane's disbelief. Tai Lung, of course, was as stoic and stone-faced as ever, but Shifu still knew the snow leopard well enough to know the feline was as flummoxed, discomfited, and even infuriated as the rest of the Five. He certainly seemed ready to grind his teeth into nubs. And the red panda wasn't far off from the same state.

 

"Who…" Tigress snarled softly in open hatred and righteous rage. "Who would _do_ such a thing?"

 

"Who—or what?" Mantis amended uncertainly, and in spite of themselves, several of the masters turned their gazes toward the distant peak of WuShon Mountain.

 

"And more importantly," Crane added worriedly, " _why_ would they do it? What was the point?"

 

"To scare us?" Monkey suggested after a moment.

 

"If so, it's workin'," Po said, weakly raising a paw. "Could be a warnin'."

 

"Or maybe there isn't a purpose," Shifu offered darkly. "Perhaps it is only senseless, random mayhem, and there is no reason at all." That, after all, would be the worst possibility—that something so diabolical and cruel could happen anywhere, anytime, purely by chance.

 

"It doesn't matter!" Tai Lung growled fiercely from the far side of the clearing, where he'd paced in his agitation. Turning back, the ex-convict lifted one clenched paw in a threatening gesture. "What matters is, we find out who did it, and make sure they don't _ever_ get the chance to repeat it." He whirled to the side and, with all his claws brandished, swiped powerfully and ferally at the nearest tree, ripping its bark and trunk to shreds, slashing and gouging ever more deeply. With a bunching, flexing heave of his mighty shoulders, he smashed right through the trunk so that it toppled to the ground at last with a resounding crash.

 

Even as Shifu was staring at his seething son in shock and the first rekindling of pride—for it seemed the big cat was finally becoming selfless and heroic again—Tai Lung added bitterly, "Besides…I know why he's here. He's after me."

 

Tigress narrowed her ruby eyes flatly. "It's always about _you_ , isn't it?"

 

Sighing theatrically, Tai Lung posted one fist on his hip and stabbed a finger at the bloody goat's remains. "In this case, it is. Look at what's written on his clothing."

 

The Five and Po looked blankly at one another, while Shifu narrowed his eyes assessingly. Finally, Viper admitted, "Tai Lung…we can't read it. What does it say?"

 

"'Tai Lung, I come,'" he recited with a sneer, apparently directed at the unknown killer. "And of course you can't read it, it's in a language I became very familiar with at Chorh-Gom. Mongolian."

 

An uneasy silence met this revelation, and the red panda furrowed his brow like a fearsome thunderhead—for while he could not speak the tongue either, now that he focused on the blood he did recognize the alphabet. Then, reluctantly, Crane vocalized what they were all thinking of. "Mongolian? So the one who did this is…?" He trailed off meaningfully, even as his face turned ashen and sick.

 

"No," the snow leopard snapped nastily, though there was also a touch of vindication in his voice. "I blew Chorh-Gom all the way to the Jade Emperor's throne when I escaped, and no one could have survived that. Except me." A vicious, hateful malice gleamed in his golden eyes for a moment, long enough to keep Shifu from reprimanding him for that bit of backsliding into arrogance, as he wondered instead what Vachir had done to warrant such loathing…then decided he didn't want to know.

 

"It's just as likely," Tai Lung continued more thoughtfully, "that someone _wants_ us, or me, to think Vachir is behind this. Why, I haven't a clue. Someone else whose life the bastard ruined? Or maybe it's just a distraction, something to send us running off in the wrong direction."

 

"Of course we just have your word that's what it says," Monkey muttered.

 

"Actually," the headman, whom all of them had forgotten was even there, interjected before the spotted feline could do more than growl at the simian, "Master Shing said the same thing. I believe he trades with Mongolian merchants for his farming tools, that's how he knows the language."

 

Several more disgruntled and concerned glances darted around the clearing, as those who still distrusted Tai Lung had the wind taken out of their sails (at least for the moment) and the rest tried unsuccessfully to piece the facts together and puzzle out what this all could mean, and what could be done about it. It wasn't hard to tell that more than one of them was frightened or at least disturbed by their conclusions, if they weren't plain stymied as to what to do next. Then at last, Shifu addressed them.

 

"It seems there is more going on here than all of us know. We must pool our information if we're to get anywhere—and if the killer is still in the area, he must be stopped and brought to justice." Everyone seemed to be in undeniable agreement on that aspect at least.

 

"Students, I do believe it would be prudent for you to pair up and fan out into the forests around Yunxian, and see what if anything you can discover—if nothing else, such a patrol will ensure the village's safety and reassure its people. Tigress, go with Monkey and canvass the western foothills. Viper, you and Mantis search nearer the northern border of the valley…" He hesitated for the briefest of moments, but the need was great, he trusted his son, and if necessary the Dragon Warrior could handle him should the snow leopard somehow choose now to betray them. "Po, accompany Tai Lung along the lakeshores to the east."

 

Sweeping a hand curtly to cut through the expected objections, the red panda drew himself up to his full height and glanced at the avian kung fu master. "Crane, sweep the marketplace, see what if anything you can learn from the vendors there." The bird bowed low until only the peak of his hat could be seen; whether he was relieved to avoid the wilderness where an insane, bloodthirsty monster might be on the loose, or simply had no issues obeying with alacrity (unlike some of his fellow masters who might have chafed at being relegated to such a sheltered, passive role) was debatable.

 

"I will be doing the same with our host," Shifu added. "I have heard the rumors of other deaths throughout the neighboring provinces; I had thought them mere superstition and exaggeration, but now we have the proof they are not. Only by comparing these tales can a pattern emerge. Return here within three hours so we may meet again—so that we may save his next victim, and bring an end to his reign of terror."

 

With an air of finality, he turned his back on his students, and was privately pleased to hear each of them move into their respective partnerships and slip off into the rustling underbrush with only token grumbles. As Crane joined him, Shifu at once focused his attention on the flustered boar, applying one probing inquiry after another as they descended the road back toward Yunxian, for he was bound and determined to discover what was afoot. He was not about to let the peace Po had brought to the Valley be destroyed, or kept from spreading to the rest of China. This wicked, amoral slaughterer had to be eliminated.

 

And if he did seek Tai Lung, whether to kill him, punish him for his past misdeeds, or turn him back toward evil and darkness…then this creature would soon find there'd be hell to pay for anyone who dared go after his son.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Despite the very real loathing and feral desire to rip limb from limb whatever had killed that goat so graphically—for even at his worst during his rampage, the snow leopard had never gone beyond the bounds of decency, his killings bloody without being sickening, and he had not seen such a sight since defeating the _yaoguai_ —Tai Lung could also not keep the stunned excitement from his thoughts. Not at the prospect of finally proving himself a changed cat, of having something wicked to defeat, innocent people to protect (although that factored into it as well), but because Shifu had allowed him to traverse the valley alone…in the company of Po.

 

He trusted him. He believed he would not harm the panda. He thought the ex-convict had earned the chance to demonstrate his heroism.

 

As the Dragon Warrior and the feline descended the hill where the body had been discovered and circled Yunxian to the south, heading toward the countless lakes and ponds which lined its eastern boundary, Tai Lung tried to figure out just what he had done to earn this unexpected gift, and what he was to do with it. Had it been the way he stood up to Wei Chang? His reaction to the discoveries in Oogway's chamber? Any number of conversations reported by Po and Tigress? The fact he hadn't attacked Zhuang's wife for the hateful things she had said at the festival? The even more simple point that he hadn't raised a paw against any of his fellow masters, or indicated he would even lay a finger on them? Or perhaps it was not any one thing, but an accumulation of little details and choices…

 

Whatever it was, he finally had his opportunity. If he took it, for the first time since he laid eyes on the blank parchment of the Dragon Scroll he believed he could truly accomplish what he'd set out to do: earn the acceptance of the Valley back, be forgiven by the Five, become a great hero and legend again. And it was all because Shifu had given him the chance, albeit with this cockeyed, illogical course of 'instruction'. The red panda was offering him a way out, and for no reason he could discern other than the fact he still loved Tai Lung…even though there were countless reasons why he should not, and plenty of indications from the last twenty years that he did not.

 

Did that mean, perhaps, maybe, just by a faint margin, he should also consider giving Shifu a second chance in return…?

 

Clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth, Tai Lung let out a soft snarl and lashed out at the nearest tree. No. _No_. He couldn't allow deluded sentiment, a pathetic yearning for the past, or a brief lapse of altruism on Shifu's part to blind him to the truth, what he had accepted and embraced years ago. No matter how much he wished otherwise, he could not condone what the old panda had done to him. It wasn't that he resented the harsh, disciplinarian training—that sort of strict mentality was only to be expected in as rigorous a course as kung fu, especially as it had only challenged him to become better, stronger, cleverer, and it wasn't as if his master had been truly cruel to him.

 

Nor was it the fact this attitude had replaced the affectionate and tender relationship they had first shared—such a thing, after all, was only meant for cubhood, not something which a true man would ever stomach as he grew older. If such an atrocious thing as 'cuddling' had a place at all in his life now, it would be with Tigress, not Shifu—and even then he preferred to think of it as clasping close the rightful spoils of his victory.

 

What truly upset him, what made him refuse to contemplate reciprocating his adopted father's forgiveness, was what he had done the day of the naming ceremony. Because how he chose to show it aside, if Shifu truly loved him as deeply as he claimed, he should not have refused to defend him to Oogway. Whether or not Tai Lung had too much darkness, or imbalance, in his heart to be given the Dragon Scroll, whether or not the red panda were not in the habit of disobeying his own master, whether or not he had just had his hopes of seeing the Dragon Warrior in his lifetime dashed for the second time…Shifu should have said something, _anything_.

 

He should not have stared at the snow leopard so helplessly and hopelessly, only to give that worthless, apologetic smile and rush away after the turtle. He should not have ignored the one who had given up everything because Shifu had told him he should, made him believed he had to, because only then would he achieve his destiny and prove himself worthwhile. The panda should have defended him, pleaded with Oogway, even argued with him—and not in private where it would remain secret and concealed like dirty laundry, but right in front of Tai Lung so he could know where he stood, how he rated.

 

He'd promised his son. He'd told him he would be the Dragon Warrior. He'd told him he would be the greatest warrior and hero in China who ever lived. He'd _promised_ him. He should not have turned on him. He should not have left him alone in the dark for twenty years.

 

"Jeez…Tigress was right, what kinda psycho would do stuff like that? I know we're supposed t' be huntin' him down an' all, but I really hope we don't run into him. Don't you, Tai?"

 

The words Po spoke bounced right off him, as Tai Lung glared off into the distant reaches of the forest without even seeing the trees. It wasn't fair. He knew that thought sounded like whining and bewailing his life, but he couldn't help it. Shifu hadn't even tried to talk to him, after he lay paralyzed on the floor of the Hall of Warriors—never mind that the state he was in at the time rather precluded logical and intelligent conversation, the attempt would still have been appreciated on some level. Hell, after one feeble reach of his little hand that had dropped away as if the panda were afraid of being burned (or tainted) by his touch, Shifu hadn't even bothered to acknowledge him—had refused to look him in the eyes, clearly too repulsed by and dismissive of what he'd become.

 

Whether the shell used to restrain him had all been Oogway's idea or the panda also had a hand in its design didn't matter—he hadn't objected to its use either way. Granted, there probably hadn't been any other way to ensure he didn't wreak havoc again…but how could a father who loved his son allow such an inhumane punishment to be dealt to him? And while he'd had a pretty good excuse for the first couple weeks—his broken leg—Shifu had only visited him at Chorh-Gom very infrequently after that. What…three times, at most? All within the first five years? With only messenger geese like Zeng checking on him after that? And Oogway had never visited even once.

 

They could claim all they liked it was because they couldn't stand to see him in that condition, that it hurt too much to lay eyes on him, but he knew the real reason. It had to be because they hated him—or at least, hated what he had become. Which on one level he understood…he hated it too. But that still didn't justify their abandonment of him. Once he showed his inner darkness, or imbalance, they had written him off, decided he was beyond help or hope of redemption.

 

As he had told Zeng, they had refused to acknowledge his existence, most likely hoping to forget him…or that he would finally succumb and do them the courtesy of dying so they didn't have to pay for his upkeep any longer. After all, there were surely better things for the Anvil of Heaven to be doing than babysitting him; Vachir had made _that_ perfectly clear.

 

And someone who had been able to do such a thing, who had with a clear conscience discarded him like a worn-out cloak no longer of use to anyone, was not a real father…and could not be forgiven. Because even if Tai Lung were willing to believe Shifu regretted this, and would truly atone for his mistakes, to forgive him would require trust. And that, the snow leopard was not ready to extend. He had loved the panda with all his heart, even more than he had kung fu at first—and that love, of course, had come about because of Shifu and consumed so much of him only to equal his first love.

 

Though some might doubt it due to thinking him a selfish creature, he may well have loved Shifu enough that there was no love left for himself. And Shifu had betrayed him, as surely as Tai Lung had betrayed his noble calling and the Valley he had sworn to protect. That could not be forgotten. That pain would not go away, no matter how he might wish it. Shifu had hurt him deeply…and when he managed to delve down past the hatred and fury to where his most well-hidden feelings dwelled, the snow leopard knew that because of this, he might never be able to trust the panda again. He wanted to. But he was afraid to…afraid that if he did, the hurt would happen again, and this time he would never recover from it.

 

"Tai? Buddy? You there? Where'd ya run off to?"

 

For a moment, as he snapped out of his conflicting thoughts of rage and anguish, longing and contempt, Tai Lung was quite ready to batter his companion to a pulp, just to get him to shut up and leave him to his loneliness. But then, as he turned to glare at Po, he saw the same thing that, ever since their encounter over a bowl of noodles and broth, had always stayed his paw—that look of deep concern, caring, and kindness on the Dragon Warrior's face.

 

Sighing, and letting his anger bleed out with the long, slow exhalation, he forced his fists to unclench and looked at Po apologetically. "Er…sorry, panda. I just…had a lot on my mind, is all."

 

He expected the panda to take his usual tack of poking and prying until he either learned what he wanted to know or made the snow leopard explode in another tirade. But this time, the bear didn't. Instead, only wringing his paws slightly, he bit his lip and nodded. "Oh…okay, bud. Well, if ya ever wanna talk about it…"

 

Tai Lung felt a sudden surge of gratitude well up inside his heart, even as part of him rolled his eyes and grumbled inwardly. _Damnit, every time I want to grind his face in the dirt, he has to go and turn all bleeding-heart on me!_ But he couldn't deny how he was feeling. The panda was giving him everything he'd never had growing up, hadn't realized he'd needed and had even denied as worth anything. And he was doing it unconditionally. Even though he didn't deserve it.

 

"I know what noodle-maker to turn to," he finished sardonically. "I never thought I'd be saying this…but thanks, panda." He wasn't ready to discuss with Po what he'd been thinking of—whether despite or because of the fact the panda would most likely understand. But he might be, someday soon.

 

"Anyway, you were saying?"

 

"Huh?" Po blinked, then nodded. "Oh…uh, I said I didn't really wanna meet the thing that killed that poor guy."

 

"I'm not particularly keen to make his acquaintance either," Tai Lung said dryly. "But I'm sure as hell not going to allow him to get away with this. I don't care what anyone thinks of me, even when I was at my worst I would never have done anything like that." As he thought about what they'd seen, the snow leopard couldn't help but knot his fist all over again until the knuckles cracked.

 

Noticing this, Po gulped slowly, but then his face split in a broad, congratulatory grin. "Good for you, Tai! See, what did I tell ya about bein' good at heart? And I bet if we do run into that guy, you'll pulverize him, an' without even breakin' a sweat!"

 

"I don't know if I'd go that far," the snow leopard replied cautiously, as common sense began to reassert itself over his temper. "That fellow may just have been a villager and not a kung fu warrior, but what was done to him…that suggests our killer is both highly skilled, and incredibly dangerous."

 

"So are you," Po grinned impishly.

 

Tai Lung smirked in reply, but otherwise didn't dignify that with a response—and not only because it would have been giving in too much to pride. Because as he thought about what their unknown enemy might be capable of, a chilling thought came to him: whether or not he could take the thing down, there were others out there looking for it that would also be in danger. And while he had come to care about all of the Five to various degrees (save for Monkey—what _was_ his problem? He hadn't struck him any harder than the others at the Thread of Hope…), it was of course Tigress to whom his thoughts immediately turned first. Not that she couldn't defend or otherwise take care of herself…but with such a horrific madman on the loose, even the striped feline might be in for more than she bargained—and one mistake would mean the end of her life, and his hope for a future.

 

As the two of them continued in a broad arc across the hilly, forested landscape, gradually descending into the bowl of the valley to the southeast of the village and approaching the glint of rippling water through the trees on their left, Tai Lung found his thoughts drifting in a completely different direction then—one which brought a rather lustful, satisfied smile to his lips. Tigress…the more he learned of her, the more he got to know her, the stronger and more intense his desire for her became.

 

If he had ever in his many years at the Jade Palace sat down to contemplate the rather theoretical notion of what his future mate would be like, almost every single feature of her would have matched the leader of the Furious Five precisely. It's as if she were made for him, made to be his equal. Only the fact that he would never do anything as disgusting and deplorable as forcing his advances on her—and that he had a fairly good idea what her response would be, one which he was determined to avoid as he'd rather keep that portion of his anatomy intact, thank you—kept the snow leopard from pinning her to a wall, slicing her clothes off, and proceeding from there to sate his instinctive urges as vigorously, fervently, and repeatedly as possible.

 

He didn't know how he would make her his mate, when there were so many obstacles in his path. But he knew that he would, somehow. After all, he'd made so many inroads with her already, more than he would have believed when she first confronted him in his cell. Granted, he hadn't exactly been pleased that she so blatantly dismissed his contributions in helping to raise the Thread of Hope, nor with the truly evil trick she'd played on him at the daycare. But she had defended him from Wei Chang—and the coldness and nastiness which had reared its head again following Po's appearance had thawed again when he gave her the orchid.

 

The snow leopard shook his head in bemusement and self-deprecation. He'd been an absolute wreck when he presented the flower to her—frayed nerves, sweaty palms, nervously trembling knees, the works. And no surprise really, this was after all the first time he'd ever attempted something like this with a member of the fairer sex.

 

Whether due to the gesture itself or the regrettably boyish demeanor it had given him, Tigress had seemed rather touched, and even before Mantis started making his ribbing jokes, Tai Lung was certain she was going to accept it anyway. When she'd actually fitted it above her ear, he'd thought his heart would stop. Taking a token from him in that fashion might not seem like much, but compared to how badly she'd wanted to kill him just a scant week and a half ago, that was actually an incredibly major step.

 

And since then, there had been more encouraging signs, even with certain setbacks taken into account. The fact she stood up for him again against Xiulan; their connecting over being orphans, both at the festival and later at Bao Gu; their shared understanding of what it meant to have too much strength and temper; her sympathy at the familiar dilemma of earning Shifu's love, which they had spoken of as they set their lanterns adrift at the Ghost Festival; the questions she had asked him, and her reactions to his responses, during the ridiculous Truth or Dare game; and of course, the kiss they'd shared. That kiss!

 

He had never experienced anything like it. Shifu had made reference to it when he gave Tai Lung 'the talk' after he turned twelve—yes, he _did_ know where babies came from, thank you very much!—but it had been rather clinical and vague, and no description could truly compare. It made him both molten hot and shiveringly cold, made his legs turn into limp noodles and at the same time stiffened his…spine.

 

He couldn't get enough of it, he couldn't believe he'd gone this long without it, and he wanted it again. And more. In fact the sensations had been so blissful, so intense, and so overpowering that as soon as he'd made it back to the safety of his own room at the inn, he'd had to, ah, take matters in paw—and for the first time in his life.

 

Like any other male, of course, he'd had the urges, but it had always been a mark of pride and strength for him to utterly ignore them. While the ridiculous, disgusting boys of the village had let their desires consume them with rut and chased after the girls with wild abandon, he had risen above it all, dedicated himself to what was truly important.

 

A true kung fu master was above the needs of the flesh, and as he had told Mantis, he'd had other things to focus on, better ways to spend his time than servicing a need which brought only momentary pleasure and was, in fact, far too easy to satisfy. There was no challenge in it…now, to resist it, to pay no attention to it whatsoever and become a great and mystical warrior rather than descending to such crude levels…now that was a challenge.

 

Tai Lung sighed. On the other paw, he was beginning to see now that, among other things, one of the flaws which Shifu had suggested he might possess was his very divorcing from his emotions. He had known no friends or love, formed no bonds with others, and had not concerned himself with frivolity and amusement. When training, the only emotions he had allowed himself were pride and, quite often, his trademark dry sarcasm.

 

After his descent into darkness, he had felt only wrath, hatred, and determination. At no time had he allowed himself to relax…to do something for the mere fun of it…to seek out pleasure for its own sake, to enjoy something without it needing to have a point or earn him an achievement.

 

Hence why he had begun to befriend Po, and why he had participated in Viper's silly game. (Which he had to admit had turned out to be entertaining in the end—if for no other reason than the opportunity afforded him for that kiss. Could Viper be on to his designs, and wish to encourage them? That opened up all manner of possibilities…) Because he knew that he had to be open-minded enough to achieve his new path in life, to learn what Shifu had to teach him. And one way to do this, perhaps the most important of all, was to let himself unreservedly, genuinely, without shame or hesitation, _feel_.

 

And last night, had he ever.

 

A very broad, lazy smirk crossed his muzzle—swiftly turning to a scowl, however, as he recalled how Mantis and Monkey had reacted to the news of his being virginal; there was no way in _hell_ they would ever learn he was completely inexperienced even when it came to solo matters…they'd badger and heckle him till the day he died, otherwise!

 

Then, too, even setting aside the fairly venomous and backbiting nature of her exchange of insults with him, he had been made painfully aware of one other glaringly large problem with his pursuit of Tigress: the fact she believed he could not truly love her, and that he wasn't altogether sure she was wrong.

 

In particular, her point that he had simply matched himself up with her in his mind because he viewed her as the only possible choice, and an attractive prospect as far as the symmetry of two unparalleled kung fu masters being linked romantically was concerned…that was a little too apt. That wasn't how he'd intended to come across, nor what he believed about himself—the same traits that made them seem 'destined to be together' also happened to be what attracted him to her, that was all.

 

But…if there was even a sliver of truth to her words, he owed it to both of them to explore it—and do his best to grow beyond it. Or as he had said, to fight an opponent he had never beaten before—himself, his own selfish desires which lusted for her, regardless whether it made sense or was believable. Because while it might well be true he didn't know everything about her yet, he wanted to. He wanted to understand her, and in doing so enable both of them to understand him. He wouldn't rest until that was true, until he convinced her that he wasn't in love with a fantasy…or if he was, that that fantasy was indeed her.

 

Because even though her mercurial moods, fiery temper, annoying arrogance, and blatant insults were difficult to deal with—and reminded him enough of himself that he had begun to see why others disliked him—Tai Lung relished the challenge. He thoroughly enjoyed matching wits and trading barbs with her, and he was convinced only someone of her caliber—as warrior and as woman—could be worthy of him, and vice versa.

 

Perhaps he should not have jumped the gun in confessing his feelings to her that night. It had been more painful than he could put into words hearing her reject him—in particular, with such cold logic and a trace of pity; anger and contempt would almost have been better, certainly more in character. But after how close they'd become, and especially after their connection at Bao Gu, he'd felt compelled to spill it all out to her, he'd thought she was ready. It seemed he was wrong…but as he'd told her, that didn't mean he was anywhere near ready to give up on her.

 

He would win her, claim her for his own…because he didn't think he could live without her. And he knew for a fact his life would be very dull and empty if she were not in it. So, if anything were to happen to her, if the depraved murderer of that goat were to get his clutches on her, or her own fury caused her to charge recklessly into battle, and he were not there to save her…

 

The increasing darkness and nastiness of his thoughts, as he both worried for Tigress and planned twisted, cruel fates for any who dared to harm her, made him almost completely oblivious to his surroundings, and certainly inured him to their beauty. But as he and Po at last broke through the cover of the trees to arrive on the shore of a lake so large its flat surface seemed to vanish infinitely into the mist swathing the far side, Tai Lung suddenly froze in place.

 

The Dragon Warrior, who was still nattering on about the killer, and hoping it wasn't one of the fire demons since they had left the Sword of Heroes back at the palace, continued walking on for several more paces, only to stop when he realized the snow leopard wasn't still beside him. "Hey, Tai, what gives?"

 

Hurriedly he shushed the panda, even going so far as to dart up beside him and clap a paw over his mouth when the insatiably garrulous bear tried to protest. Ignoring those hugely widened green eyes darting about fearfully above his fingers, Tai Lung snapped his head around to look over his shoulder…into the sun-dappled shade of the forest, then out once more across the water…adopting a stance of such motionlessness and utter silence that he might have been mistaken for a statue, save for the very slow, sinuous motions of his lashing tail.

 

Finally, when he could feel Po wriggling mightily to free himself and noticed his face was starting to turn a bit blue, he dared to uncover the panda's mouth—though he glared meaningfully and let out a very soft snarl to emphasize how important it was to stay quiet.

 

Luckily Po seemed to take the hint, as when he spoke it was in the barest of whispers. "What's wrong, big guy? What'd you hear?"

 

"Nothing," he murmured, lips barely moving as his words escaped in a faint hiss. "And that's just the trouble. What happened to all the birds?" For indeed, the forest around them had become deathly still, unnaturally so, and that made the snow leopard wary.

 

Though he had once decried it as superstition and stupidity, he knew from his long-ago lessons with Oogway that the natural world was highly sensitive to change—whether imminent weather patterns, the onset of an earthquake…or an emotional and spiritual disturbance in the atmosphere of a place. That was something even the most simple-minded creature could sense—and he felt it now, too. Even though the day around them seemed as serene, lovely, and unblemished as ever, something felt…off.

 

Breathing so shallowly the air hardly seemed to move past his lips, his awareness so hyper-focused on every stimulus coming in that he could hear his own pulse thrumming in his ears in time to his heartbeat, Tai Lung flicked his gaze from one part of the landscape to the next, trying to discern what was hidden from him. The treeline, looming above them to the right and extending to encompass the valley, yet somehow detached from the earth…looking like emerald clouds floating lazily above the pearly-gray fog. Vines and oversized fan palm leaves hanging low over the path, only adding to the cloaking shadows and eerie feeling of the quiet. The surface of the lake, covered as far as the eye could see with enormous lily pads, a carpet of green upon the crystal-blue waters…shifting faintly whenever the wind stirred, marred only by the equally impressive pink blossoms and isolated seed stalks. And looming above it all, the purplish-gray of the mountains which ringed this part of Hubei, adorned with clumps of woodland and split by cascades of waterfalls…rather seeming to cut them off from the rest of China, as if the world did not exist at all, as if they were all alone here…

 

 

Finally, when he could not pinpoint the source of his unease but knew its general bent, the ex-convict turned back to Po, who had amazingly stayed silent the entire time, though to judge from his anxious face he was on tenterhooks to know what was amiss. Rising back to his full height from the instinctive crouch he'd adopted, Tai Lung peered about guardedly once more, then again spoke softly. "We're not alone, panda…"

 

With those rather obvious but ominous words, he turned and stared out across the lake, into the trees, trying to see in every direction at once. "We know you're out there," he suddenly exclaimed, shouting peremptorily, and mockingly, into the forest around them. "So why don't you just do us both a favor, and come out where we can see you? I'd like to see the whites of your eyes before I kill you."

 

Ignoring Po where he stood looking aghast and stunned, the spotted cat began pacing in a slow circle…never leaving his back to a part of the forest for long, always in motion and always testifying to his keen feline senses, proving to whoever might be watching that he would not be taken by surprise. It might seem suicidal, or at least foolhardy, to call the hidden watcher out, but Tai Lung had never been one to, pardon the pun, pussyfoot around. Or as Shifu was so fond of reminding him, he lacked patience.

 

Besides…he hated this sort of clever cat-and-mouse game, at least when he was the mouse. He much preferred to have it all out in the open, everything visible, clear-cut, revealed at the outset, so he knew what he was up against and could act accordingly.

 

Or to put it yet another way, he wanted his enemy to sit still, show itself, and quit the gamesplaying so he could settle into the task of beating the bloody hell out of it. It was what he'd wanted when fighting Po, it was cathartic, it was the way it was supposed to be. And there was no reason such a mindset couldn't be put to a good use now.

 

Except, when the enemy finally answered his challenge, they didn't sound at all intimidated by him…their voice by contrast tinged with amusement and a trace of scorn. And despite all his preparation and talent, his cleverness and observational skills, they also spoke from _directly behind him_ , so that only his firm sense of discipline and control kept him from leaping out of his pelt.

 

"Well, when you put it that way, what _ever_ was I thinking hiding in here? I'll come right out then, shall I?"

 

Po, sadly, did not fare nearly so well, since he did in fact leap several feet off the ground, let out a shriek of aggrieved surprise, and landed with a terrible splash in the shallow waters of the lily-strewn lake. But Tai Lung still ignored him, for at the sound of that voice he had become even more stiff and tense, and his heart had grown cold in his chest. He knew that voice. He hadn't heard it in over twenty years, but he knew it as well as he knew his own—how could he ever forget?

 

Very slowly…dreading what he would see with every moment, but knowing he could not afford to keep his eyes off of her, yet at the same time being sure to make no sudden motions that might set off her assassin's instincts…he turned yet again. _No. No!_

 

She stood beside the trunk of an elm tree, perfectly poised and ready, looking as if she'd just come out into the woods for a stroll and did this sort of thing every day. He could not see anything of her features at first, save for her chilling blue eyes within the shadows of her hood, for she was wrapped in the folds of a long, black cloak drawn close about her body.

 

But that in itself told him who she was, as it had always been her trademark style. It also showed off her slender, svelte physique, another telltale marker…and if he needed any further proof of her identity, she was not alone—for two identically clad and slim figures stood arrayed on either side of her.

 

For several moments, the tableau remained frozen before him. Then, with a casual nonchalance he knew to be both feigned and genuine—feigned because it concealed a constant state of deadly readiness, genuine because her skills were such she had every right to act so supremely confident—the central figure strolled toward him across the grassy forest loam. When she stood less than a foot away, she stopped again.

 

Small paws, covered with silvery, rosette-dotted fur, emerged from her sleeves, reaching up to doff her hood—in the same motion revealing, as her cloak fell open, the brown leather pants and skintight black leather vest she wore. And hanging at her waist the pair of circular weapons known as Wind and Fire Wheels, each sprouting sharp blades of metal in the shape of tongues of flame…more than reminiscent of her own claws.

 

Her face bared to the light, as narrow, angular, and oddly elfin as he remembered…yet also somehow harder, flatter, more heartless…the snow leopardess smiled at him, a rather suggestive and vicious example that showed off her sharp fangs to glint in the light.

 

"Hello, Tai Lung," Wu Xiu purred throatily. "Remember me?"

_Oh shit._


	19. When Paths Cross

 

As the sun rose higher above the cliffs of the mountains, its rays setting fire to the slopes of WuShon almost as if the fire demons had after all escaped from their decades-old prison, the hustle and bustle of Yunxian became all the more evident, especially here in the marketplace. Potters and weavers, woodworkers and jewelers, grocers and bakers, merchants from the neighboring provinces and local farmers just coming in to sell their crops—they all formed a vibrant, raucous hubbub around Crane, hundreds of distractions to make it so he almost couldn't think.

 

On the one hand, he had to admire the fine dishware; the tapestries and silkscreen paintings; the simple yet sturdy fabrics and plain clothing; the small but beautiful display of jade, nacre, and pearls; and the many mouth-watering examples of fish from the nearby lakes, as well as seafood brought in from the coast. Yunxian, despite its fairly tiny size, was quite prosperous! And unsurprisingly, aside from the haggling which was usually heard at such an affair, most of the conversations he overheard were gossip regarding Shing Fai's distressing discovery on the hilltop—much of it baseless speculation and worth very little, but enough rumors with substance to them that he was sure Shifu would want to have it repeated back for him.

 

On the other hand, despite the relative importance of his mission, the avian kung fu master was not particularly happy at so much noise and randomness swirling around him. Distractions were the last thing any of them could afford at this juncture, and as for being unable to hear himself think…Crane had always prided himself on his intellect and his innate ability to analyze and discern truths hidden to others.

 

It was a talent which served him well in combat, letting him observe and study his opponent until he almost seemed to know what they would do before they did it, thereby complementing his clever and skillful deflection. It was how he remained such a calm, neutral force for balance in arguments and discussion, figuring out answers and noticing contradictions or fallacies others would not. And it was also why he had been chosen for this task, he believed, and how he could be of use to Master Shifu.

 

Because, he reflected as he drifted down one street after another and across a series of wide open squares of tightly packed dirt, only barely acknowledging the crowd of villagers talking around him, it wasn't as if there weren't plenty to think about. And if he put it all together with what he might learn here at the market, it could well mean the difference in preventing another atrocity.

 

The most glaringly obvious questions raised, ones which demanded an answer before it was too late, was who had killed that poor goat and why, why he'd been so disturbingly slaughtered, and what the purpose was for those taunting words in Mongolian. As Crane himself had given voice to, this last implied that Vachir, or at least one of his platoon, had committed this murder as a way to draw Tai Lung out, so that they could then either re-imprison him or get their revenge upon him for the events at Chorh-Gom.

 

The snow leopard had put paid to that line of inquiry by stating in no uncertain terms that his escape (which had apparently been quite spectacular as well as catastrophic) had taken the lives of all the rhinos there, including their commander. There was no guarantee Tai Lung was right, of course—he didn't even have to be bragging about his accomplishments, merely mistaken, and Crane doubted the feline had exactly wasted any time before heading to the Valley by doing a headcount of the bodies. But he sincerely hoped the snow leopard was indeed correct.

 

Not that he approved of the murder of so many great warriors, although he did understand why after twenty years of imprisonment and mistreatment Tai Lung would not exactly have been in a charitable and merciful mindset when breaking free of Chorh-Gom. And the truth was the Anvil had, to a man, been composed of warriors, soldiers who knew that at any moment their enemies could slay them in battle, that death would surely claim them one day or another. Such was a fate they had accepted from the moment they answered the calls of Flying Rhino, Thundering Rhino, and all others in that lineage, even welcomed like an old friend.

 

It didn't make what Tai Lung had done right, but he couldn't deny that the Anvil of Heaven had died as they had lived, and while doing so at the hands of their prisoner had surely not been on the agenda, at the same time they would not have had it any other way. They would rather die in combat than peacefully in their beds—something he also knew was true of certain members of the Furious Five, especially Tigress.

 

No, the reason Crane hoped the snow leopard was correct was because if the rhino commander was indeed dead, he was also cleared of being a suspect in this crime...and to think Vachir was capable of doing what they'd seen on that hilltop was terrible, as well as unbelievable.

 

On the other hand, if it were not Vachir, who would wish to see he got the blame, and who would know Mongolian? Crane knew very little of the rhinoceros's history, only what rumors he had heard and the little he'd gleaned from conversations with Oogway and Shifu. He knew many believed Vachir to be a descendant of Master Flying Rhino; that he was a highly-decorated member of the Anvil of Heaven, perhaps the most in its long history, with many of his medals being for extreme bravery and ingenuity on the battlefield as well as acts of valor and honor—such as moments of courage when he almost lost his life in protecting his men.

 

Crane had heard, when he was still at Li Dai Academy, that the Grand Master had been rather strongly against Vachir being placed in charge of guarding Tai Lung—something which Oogway had later confirmed for him in private but refused to explain. But he had been overruled, either by Emperor Chen or his generals, and perhaps understandably so…since tales also said Vachir had personally saved the tiger's life during a Mongol invasion.

 

Which meant the only ones offhand the avian could think of who might hold a grudge against the rhino _were_ the Mongols, or perhaps the Huns, both of whom had been repelled numerous times by the Anvil of Heaven and lost many of their men in the process. But somehow Crane didn't think any of them, even the Great Khan, were clever or patient enough for such a plan, let alone so indirect in obtaining revenge: they wouldn't frame Vachir for an atrocity so Tai Lung would kill him, or he would be put on trial in the Imperial City, they'd want to do the deed themselves.

 

Besides, it was not yet common knowledge in China that Tai Lung had survived his encounter with the Dragon Warrior—Shifu had been determined to keep it quiet until the snow leopard had proven himself a changed man or until some other fate could be decided for him. And considering Chorh-Gom's location, Crane would think the Mongols or even the Huns would know of Vachir's death during the escape even before those in the Valley of Peace. So why pin such a crime on someone who was dead and gone?

 

Unless he wasn't dead. Unless Tai Lung not only didn't check to be sure he'd actually killed Vachir, but had simply _hoped_ he was dead, after whatever torture the rhino had subjected him to in prison… Still, even taking into account the snow leopard's reaction whenever his warden was brought up, and the Grand Master's inexplicable desire to keep the two of them apart, it simply wasn't logical for Vachir to have done such a thing. It was random, cruel, and dishonorable—and wouldn't Vachir simply be trying to incarcerate Tai Lung again? Even if for some reason the rhino had decided his prisoner had to die, that wouldn't explain why he killed the goat.

 

They were missing something here. And Crane was very much afraid if they, or he, didn't figure out what it was in time, it would get some or all of them killed.

 

Whatever it was, however, would have to wait until later to discover. Because at that moment, he was jolted out of his thoughts by something he heard one of the vendors say to a customer, and swiftly turned back to skewer them with an intent stare. "What did you just say?"

 

The merchant, a gorilla of all things (since most members of that species he'd encountered had either been bandits or mercenaries), looked startled, but then he bowed to the kung fu master and said in his gruff, raspy voice, "Oh, a thousand pardons, Master Crane, I didn't see you there…I was just saying this wasn't the first time some unexplained death happened around here. Just a few days ago, one of the magistrates was found dead in his home. No sign of how anyone could have got in, the doors and windows were all still locked, but his throat had been cut—looked like by the blades of a war fan. And this was right around the time those three strangers came to town."

 

"Three strangers?" Crane couldn't keep the fear from his tightened voice, even as he leaned in intently.

 

The customer who'd been speaking with him, a rather overweight pig, nodded adamantly, clearly eager to spread this particularly juicy bit of gossip. "That's right! No one could get 'em to take down those hoods of theirs, or open up their cloaks, but they were all real tall and slender. Had to be women, no way mistakin' how they walked, and they all moved the same, like they were triplets. Feline too, unless I miss my guess, only cats have that kind of grace—look at Tai Lung!" She chuckled, then frowned uneasily. "Seemed to be looking for someone too…something makes me hope they didn't find whoever it was…"

 

The bird gasped softly, eyes wide, as he managed a tiny nod in reply. "Yeah...I don't think I want them to either..." Even softer, he muttered to himself as he turned away in a slight daze. "No... _no_..." But there was no mistaking it, it had to be them. And if it was...if it was, then all of them were in even more danger than they'd realized.

 

Barely managing the minimum of politeness in excusing himself, he hurried away down the street in the direction of the headman's house, where he was certain Shifu would still be holding forth. He had to tell the red panda, this news was even more critical than the death they were currently investigating. Because if he was right, and the ones he'd just learned about were still in Yunxian or nearby in the hills, and they caught any of the searching pairs alone...

 

Lost in his thoughts, Crane didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, even jostling villagers aside so they almost dropped their packages and baskets in his haste to reach his destination. Which was why, just as he was about to give up in frustration and fly the rest of the way, he was caught completely unprepared when a pair of hands suddenly grasped his narrow shoulders and yanked him back out of the clot of traffic, underneath a nearby awning.

 

Gasping, he flailed briefly with his wings, trying by main force to break free as well as land a blow on his assailant, but even had he possessed more upper body strength, he doubted he could have escaped—the paws gripping him felt like iron vises. Yet also, strangely soft, even feminine. And so was the laugh that rang in his ears as the tall figure he saw out of the corner of his eye seemed quite entertained by his desperately ridiculous struggle.

 

He knew her too, he realized. Or at least, he thought he did. It must have been the three assassins he just learned about, putting memories of her in his mind so that he now saw her where she couldn't possibly be. Except…she spoke, in the warm, velvety purr of a voice that had always made him feel like melting, whenever he'd heard it in the training court and halls of the Li Dai Academy, and he couldn't possibly mistake it for anyone else.

 

He tried to twist around to get a better glimpse of her, and only received the barest snatch of large, round, black ears and beige fur before those same paws, now grasping him much more gently but still refusing to let him out of her reach, clapped down over his eyes in a playful gesture.

 

"Well, well. It _is_ you! Wasn't sure at first, but I'd know those 'skinny little legs' anywhere. Hiya handsome, how's tricks?"

 

Crane felt his heart jump into his throat, and despite his current predicament, and the very real danger posed to his master, the rest of the Five, and the Dragon Warrior—even Tai Lung—he couldn't keep a broad, if stunned, smile from gracing his bill.

 

" _Mei Ling?_ "

 

"In the flesh. Or fur, rather."

                                                                       

* * *

 

As was often the case, the Dragon Warrior was a little slow on the uptake. Staggering up out of the lake shallows, his black-and-white fur drenched and dripping while a lily pad rested on top of his head like an absurd hat, Po glanced rapidly back and forth between Tai Lung and the three figures accosting him. His mouth worked soundlessly, his eyes wide and staring, his finger pointing back and forth. "Wait a minute...do you guys know each other?"

 

"We've met," the snow leopard replied, low and contemptuous, the fierce and hateful growl never leaving his throat.

 

"Oh, we've done much more than that," Wu Xiu noted with pleasure. "You mean you never told your father, or your new friends, about us? For shame."

 

The youngest Wu Sister, Jia, giggled surreptitiously, offering a vapid yet winsome smile to the panda even as she flicked her violet eyes unerringly back to Tai Lung. "Yeah, we and Tai Tai were _very_ close, weren't we? Of course when we knew you, you didn't wear shirts." She paused, then licked her lips in sultry fashion as she placed one paw on her hip and eyed him up and down appraisingly. "You really should go back to that style, big guy. It's a crime to cover all that up."

 

She brightened considerably. "At least you were clever enough to go without sleeves, though! Mm-mmm, I've never seen biceps as delicious as that..." Her paws flexed visibly, as if itching to tear his shirt right from his body.

 

Beside her, Wu Chun rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I'd rather not see my breakfast for a second time today, if you don't mind. He's old enough to be our grandfather."

 

Cursing under his breath, the ex-convict glared hatefully at the snow leopardess as he lifted one fist to shake in her direction. "That's _not_ why I didn't wear them, as you damn well know! D'you think I was insane enough to train in the kwoon, lather up a sweat, and wear clothing on top of all this thick fur too?" _All right, fine, so I did like showing off a little. That is entirely beside the point! And I am **not** that old..._

 

The point was the assassins were making their 'relationship' out to be much deeper and more extensive than it truly was. He had met them a year before he was denied the Dragon Scroll and went on his rampage. It had been one of his last missions to prove his worthiness, and one of the few aside from the journey to Yunxian that he'd been allowed to make completely on his own. He forgot the details of that particular excursion—something to do with bandits in Hunan, he thought it was—but he would never forget his encounter with the Wu Sisters.

 

Although he had never learned the specifics of it, apparently they'd been hired to also take out the same group of bandits as he was, or perhaps there had simply been no honor among thieves...a falling-out, a betrayal, too much bitter rivalry, or even personal dislike. Whatever the reason, the four of them had come upon the same battlefield from opposite sides, all of them a whirlwind of fur, claws, punches, and kicks as they took out one robber after another.

 

He had vague memories of using a Mantis strike to gouge out a set of eyeballs, swinging a mace with crushing force into a gorilla's groin, leaping from a standing start to literally smash in a wolf's breastbone, and twisting in a wide-arc roundhouse kick to knock out a whole line of crocodiles. But the sisters had been just as impressive and amazing, wielding a plethora of weapons—from common ones such as the tonfa and the throwing star to obscure, foreign ones such as the chakram and the blowgun...with poison darts, of course. And their kung fu had been so smooth, flawless, and graceful to watch, like flowing water, that it had all seem rehearsed well in advance.

 

After all the bandits were dead, the four had faced each other across the expanse of bloody corpses, intent and alert as they gauged each other's abilities and skills and decided whether they faced ally or enemy. In the end, a truce had been declared and introductions made. Tai Lung had never heard of them—two decades ago their legend had not yet grown enough to be whispered in every tavern common room across the land, certainly not enough to eclipse his own—but they had of course known who he was. Fascinated by the chance to meet and get to know others of his kind, he'd agreed to dinner and drinks before heading back to the Valley.

 

He didn't remember a great deal about what happened after that—it had been the one and only time he'd imbibed alcohol, and the fact it had left him with hazy thoughts, a killer headache, and large gaps in his memory was the real reason he'd sworn off all liquors, contrary to what he'd made Tigress believe. But what he did recall, in bits and flashes, was that at least one sister, possibly all three, had tried to seduce him—though he had of course resisted even while under the influence, what would his master have said if he'd known? And that the crafty, dark-hearted women had tried to persuade him into joining them.

 

They'd failed at that too—even drunk, the snow leopard had had his eyes set on only one prize, and nothing could deter him or make his steps falter and deviate from the path he'd set himself. Not to mention when his answer had displeased them, they'd revealed their true colors...Wu Xiu, the eldest, had seemed particularly infuriated at being balked in claiming him for herself, or for her sinister, death-dealing purposes. For perhaps the first time in his life, he'd felt that his life hung in the balance, as the assassin had held a knife to his throat, so close he could feel the edge of the blade brush and slice through a few hairs—and by the scent of the liquid staining the metal, he was fairly certain it had been treated with juice of the oleander.

 

But for an inexplicable reason he still couldn't understand, she had let him live. With a twisted smirk, she had only backed away to the window of his inn room and sketched a brief bow before commenting that she was sure, one day, he would change his mind, when he knew where he belonged...when he found out the great dream of his life would never be realized and he would never truly be accepted. Then she'd vanished into the night.

 

Tai Lung had never told his father or Oogway—the first time in his life he ever lied to them. (The little white ones all boys told as they grew up didn't count...this was much more serious.) And he'd had the uneasy feeling the sage turtle had known, even if not what the lie had concealed. That alone would have planted the seeds of his doubts, suspicions, and distrust for the Grand Master and Shifu, but of course the Wu Sisters hadn't stopped there.

 

The hint that the red panda did not love him because he was not his flesh and blood, that even the magnanimous, wise tortoise believed him unworthy of the great heroism which would come with the Dragon Scroll, had lodged themselves like poisonous barbs in his insecure heart. And while he could not lay the blame for what he had done at their door—the choices had still been his, as well as the actions—it would be fair to say the Wu Sisters helped place him on his downward spiral.

 

And now they had come back for him.

 

Snapping out of his rather dangerous reverie, Tai Lung growled again and bared his fangs at the assassins even as he spoke to Po. "Just ignore them, panda. They're implying something that was never there. And as _hilarious_ as they seem to think it is to make fun of my age, they’re nearly as old as I am. Allow me to introduce the Wu Sisters—Xiu, Chun, and Jia."

 

As he indicated each of them, they nodded in acknowledgment...Jia winking, Chun gazing at the panda unblinkingly, and Xiu never taking her cold blue eyes off of the ex-convict. In spite of himself, and the warmth of the day, he shivered—he didn't know whether her look was meant to murder him where he stood or pierce him to hold him still while she made him hers...but either way, he didn't like it.

 

He wasn't the only one—for as soon as their names passed his lips, Po gasped, backpedaled a little, and swallowed visibly. "The...the Wu...?"

 

For the first time, Xiu allowed herself to glance at the panda, a sardonic tilt to both lips and eyebrow. "That's right. I see you've heard of us. And who might you be?"

 

Somehow mustering a well of strength and determination despite knowing just who he faced, Po struck a kung fu pose—the opening stance for Tiger Fist, in fact—and put on his best stern glower. "Lady, I'm the Dragon Warrior." Sadly, the image was marred by the lily pad he still wore on his head.

 

Even as Tai Lung smacked his forehead and groaned piteously, the Wu Sisters were laughing—the sound ranging from the youngest's genuine merriment to the eldest's cold disapproval. It was the middle sister, Chun, who spoke, however, looking emotionlessly at Po before turning her world-weary green gaze to the snow leopard. "And here I thought he'd be something of a challenge for us."

 

Wu Xiu nodded in agreement, tsking softly under her breath as she crossed her arms over her narrow chest. "My, my. The greatest warrior in China, in the history of kung fu...is a panda. I had no idea the standards at the Jade Palace had sunk so low."

 

Unsurprisingly, Po looked incredibly ashamed, upset, and resentful. But even though he shared the sentiment, a part of Tai Lung couldn't help still guiltily agreeing with the snow leopardess—for though the panda did have the wisdom, heart, and soul of a true kung fu warrior, his fighting skills left so much to be desired he understood why Shifu had been so reluctant to train him at first.

 

Yet he couldn't allow them to belittle his first and only friend. (If anything, that was his job.) And after all, he had severely underestimated the panda during their battle; perhaps the assassins would too. Especially if he kept their attention focused on him. "Leave him out of this, why don't you...and tell me why you're really here."

 

"Oh, how sweet," Xiu said with scathing sarcasm. "He's made a friend."

 

"Darn right he has!" Po finally blurted out. Having at last swiped the offending pad off his head, he stalked out of the lake to stand dripping, but otherwise with a surprisingly menacing air, as he glared at the three hired killers. "But right now, all that matters is you tellin' us why ya killed that poor farmer. That _was_ you, wasn't it? You gutted him, ripped him apart?"

 

To Tai Lung's shock, all three of the sisters stopped, blinked, and stared at the panda in genuine confusion. They recovered quickly, of course, especially Xiu, but it didn't change the fact he'd seen behind their façade...and they truly didn't know what Po was talking about.

 

Which, now that he stopped to think, made sense; for while he had, perhaps understandably, assumed the sisters were to blame as soon as he laid eyes on them, he recalled now that all of them, but Xiu above all, prided themselves on clean, swift, surgical killings. Nothing like what had been done to the goat, that would be beneath them. And while they were not above a little torture or cruelty to gain information for their employers or merely for the fun of it, from what little he knew of them they seemed unlikely to descend to the horrific levels applied to that farmer. _But if they didn't do it, then who...?_

 

Interrupting his thoughts, Chun actually allowed a note of reproach and irritation to enter her tone as she stared at Po, then Tai Lung. "Oh, please. If you know who we are, 'Dragon Warrior', then you must know that's just not our style."

 

While the panda looked openly puzzled, Xiu turned back to Tai Lung, that familiar predatory gleam in her eyes. "As to why we're here, we came here for you, Tai Lung. To offer you a deal."

 

Despite being certain she would come for him again one day, and this time not allow him to refuse, this was the last thing he'd expected her to say. In point of fact, assuming she wasn't after Shifu or one of the Five (who surely had many enemies), he'd have thought she came to finish what she started, tying up the loose end she'd left dangling when she leaped out that window twenty-one years ago. Granted, she hadn't attacked him on sight...but she was also the sort to play with her prey before she pounced on it. Could she actually mean what she said? After all this time, had she still not given up on recruiting him? Or was this merely a smokescreen for something else?

 

Even as he remained perfectly poised on the balls of his feet, ready to leap and dodge aside the moment he spied the twitching and flexing of muscles that indicated an incoming blow, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh really? And just what might that be, hmm?"

 

"The same I made you twenty years ago, of course." She smiled, but it was brittle and didn't reach her eyes, except to make them flash menacingly.

 

Ignoring the panda, who looked even more worried and befuddled than before, the snow leopard glared at Xiu. "And what makes you think my answer will have changed? Even back then I was a solo act...and I think you'll agree I've proven I don't work well with others."

 

Jia laughed, but the others remained stoic and silent. Then a slow smile twisted Xiu's muzzle. "Because this time I can offer you something I didn't have before."

 

In the back of his head, Tai Lung could feel his unease and even fear growing. She seemed far too cocky, but what could she possibly have up her sleeve? "And that would be...?" he finally asked, hoping he sounded as bored and disinterested as was Chun's wont.

 

The eldest Wu Sister turned up her black lips, fangs pressed together in a wicked grin. "Your family. We know who they are, and where they are."

 

For a long moment a stunned silence filled the glade along the lakeshore, with only the sound of the wind to disturb it. Then, quite deliberately, even though he felt his stomach lurching and roiling inside, Tai Lung threw back his head and laughed mockingly. "Of course. How could I have missed it? Why, they were just misplaced, you lovely ladies just happened to find them, and now out of the goodness of your hearts, you wish to restore me to their bosom." His teeth snapped together, jaw clenching and trembling with the incredible fury he felt building within him. "D'you really think I'm that damn _stupid_? I'm not going to fall for a trick like that, so you're just wasting your breath."

 

Wu Chun blinked with exaggerated care, then shook her head slowly. "Believe what you want, Tai Lung. The fact is, we have information you want, and we're prepared to give it to you...at a price, of course."

 

"Naturally." He bit the word off. "But I only have your word on this—that you'll tell me, that you actually have the information, that it's even true."

 

"Hmmm, yes, that is a dilemma," Wu Xiu smirked, tapping one finger on her lip. "I guess you'll just have to trust us."

 

Tai Lung snorted. "As if _that_ will ever happen."

 

Wu Jia pouted, her lip quivering tremulously. "Aww, don't be like that, Tai Tai. We really want to tell you...but you don't get something for nothing, you know."

 

"Would you _please_ quit calling me that?" he finally exploded, loudly enough to set the nearby birds flapping out of their roosts in the branches overhead. "And I know very well what you're asking—my soul, or it might as well be."

 

"Don't be so melodramatic." Chun rolled her eyes. "Have we ever lied to you before?"

 

He actually had to stop and consider that for a few moments—and realized, to his discomfort, that in the short time he'd known them, he hadn't caught them in an outright falsehood. That he knew of.

 

Even as he started to waver, though, it was Po's turn to intervene, stepping up to the snow leopard's side and maneuvering his bulk protectively in front of him. If the idea of him protecting the scourge Tai Lung weren't so ludicrous, and didn't make him rather distressed at the prospect of what the sisters might do to him, it would be an extremely touching gesture. Actually, it still was.

 

"Don't _you_ listen to 'em, Tai. They're just tryin' t' goad you. They ain't got nothin' on ya."

 

Jia shrugged. "You'll never find out unless you take a chance on us."

 

"Stay out of this, panda. This is between me and them."

 

Po flicked his eyes around the glade, as if studying and tallying all the exits, then started to sidle backwards as slowly and unobtrusively as he could, even though his size and coloration made him stand out so plainly it was painfully obvious what he was up to. And indeed, before either of the warriors could do more than blink, Chun suddenly stood next to Po, as calm and cool as ever, but her war fan was now open and held horizontally in front of the Dragon Warrior—and several of its blades were this close to piercing his throat. He froze.

 

"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere," the snow leopardess said conversationally, mildly. "Not until we've settled accounts, anyway."

 

Tai Lung stabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Chun as he glared at Xiu. "Not exactly the most conducive way to convince me you're on the up-and-up, eh?"

 

Those blue eyes fixed on him again, never wavering...as steady as stone. "The choice is yours. Stay with your perfect little friends, holed away in your precious little palace, and never know who you are, or join us, and learn everything about how truly great you are, and were meant to be."

 

She was good. She knew just what buttons to push. And once, it would have worked. In all honesty he had to admit he was still tempted. But he had come too far now to give up, especially when he had Tigress to think of, to give him strength. "No deal. Because there's no way you could have found out anything anyway. I don't doubt your skills...but Shifu turned over every stone in the Valley, questioned all travelers going in and out, even had the Emperor send his men to question all the nearby villages. He never learned anything. There was nothing to find."

 

Wu Xiu was still smiling, however, as if in on a private joke only she knew. "Is that what he told you?"

 

For several long moments, he almost gave in, almost agreed. Because there had always been the secret belief, buried deep down inside where he had never let it out in the light of day to be examined, that the red panda might not have been fully truthful with him. So many reasons he could have hidden what he had learned: selfishness, a refusal to let Tai Lung go back to his family instead of staying at the temple and earning the scroll that was beyond Shifu's own reach; love, an inability to let him go even if a family waited for the abandoned cub; disgust with the sort of people who could orphan their child, people he never wanted Tai Lung to meet; a plea for humility, trying to keep the snow leopard in the noble life of service rather than the powerful lineage to which he belonged; or simply habits he had learned training with the evasive, circuitous, secretive tortoise Oogway.

 

But then he growled, both at himself and at the sisters, and took a menacing step forward—putting Po in turn behind his spotted back—as he bent one knee and crouched, tense and ready to spring. No. No, it couldn't be. Whatever else Shifu was or had done to him, he was not a liar. He knew how much it hurt the snow leopard to remain ignorant of his heritage. He would not have kept such a thing from him. Would he?

 

"It's not going to work," he snapped at last. "I'm going to give you one last shot at this, Xiu. Even if you're telling the truth, I know you didn't come here just to lure me into a trap, or whatever this bait is intended to do. And it can't just be chance you're here. Someone sent you...I want to know who, and I want to know why."

 

The snow leopardess regarded him contemplatively for a few moments, then chuckled softly. "All right, you got me. We _are_ working for someone. Someone who pays well, and who's very interested in you. And I'm sure you'd love for me to tell you all about him." The mirth in her eyes vanished as they went flat. "But you know, I don't think I will."

 

One of the other sisters hissed between her teeth. Po swallowed again. The water rippled and splashed on the shoreline, the limbs creaked above them, and he heard the distinctive sound of metal clinking against metal as some weapon or other was grasped, about to be brought into play. But although he noticed and took stock of all of this, Tai Lung only had eyes for Wu Xiu as he replied to her...very softly, his voice as laced with deadliness and determination as it had ever been. "Then I suppose...I'll have to do it the other way, and _make_ you."

 

"You'll _try_ ," she amended archly. "But...be my guest."

 

And even as the words were leaving her mouth, he exploded into action.

 

Crossing the intervening ground between them in less than three strides, he leaped through the air as if floating, his pulse pounding in his ears—as always happened to him in combat, everything outside his vision and his immediate surroundings faded into nothing, leaving him utterly focused on his adversary. It was how he had always fought, what worked best for him, and it had never failed him before—well, except for when he fought Po. But the panda was unorthodox, and the sisters for all their skill were still typical kung fu warriors in most respects...

 

He landed on the ball of one foot, the rest of his forward momentum already being twisted around into a roundhouse—but to his utter shock, Wu Xiu ducked it as if it were mere child's play, a bored look even appearing on her narrow muzzle. Luckily he was well-trained enough not to twirl around ridiculously on one foot, as the Dragon Warrior probably would have, nor did he even stumble—he directed his energy instead around and down, his foot slamming into place even as he leaned forward to punch right into the snow leopardess's face. But somehow, she ducked that too, as if she were a tree bending in a mountain gale, and this time she smirked openly at him. "Too slow, Tai Tai," she purred. "You _are_ getting old."

 

Enraged, he didn't bother to grace her with a scathing reply—he let his actions speak for him. Spin-kick, side-kick, Crane chop, Dragon Fist…one after another, without let up or hesitation or even a pause for breath, he launched them in a flurry at Xiu, determined to smash that smug grin off her devilish face. But to his increasing fury, she continued to dodge and weave, step aside and even pirouette away as if she were some damned court dancer, and not a single blow he attempted ever connected. "Come _on_ , Tai Lung, are you even really trying? What did Vachir have you doing all those years, embroidering socks? You really _have_ gone soft…"

 

The underbrush nearby rustled, but so intent was he on his opponent that he barely noticed, writing it off as the lakeshore wind. Letting out an inarticulate snarl, he launched himself again at the assassin—only, at the last moment, he caught sight of a flicker of movement in those heartless blue eyes, a reflection of something behind him displayed in their flat emptiness.

 

It was Jia, emerging from the leaves to leap soundlessly at him, both paws held up and apart as if something were clutched between them...something invisible he couldn't see.

 

Even as he cursed at himself for allowing Xiu to distract him with her taunting, the snow leopard's incredible reflexes acted without thought. One paw came up in a blur of speed in front of his face—and at the last possible second, caught the strand of razor-thin wire that had been about to close over and slice through his throat. Grasping it tightly—and ignoring the pain that flared in his palm as the garrote bit into his flesh—he yanked forward and down, at the same time his other paw twisted back behind him, catching hold of Jia's tunic and _yanking_.

 

As the garrote came forward and slipped out of her paw, the youngest sister let out a startled shriek—but she couldn't check her progress, he'd pulled her completely off her feet, and in seconds Jia was hurled over his hip, right into Xiu's hateful visage. Both spotted felines came together with a satisfying smack of flesh and bone, limbs entangling as they fell prone in the mud.

 

Tai Lung tossed the wire aside contemptuously and smirked down at the sisters. "You were saying?" He leaned back on one foot, his opposite arm upraised in a defensive block for the attack he knew would soon be coming.

 

A cry from behind him suddenly drew his attention however—a feminine cry. Twisting about, he stared...and didn't know whether to laugh, groan, or chuckle in grudging respect. Chun, of course, had been the only one free to tackle Po, and the fact she'd already had him under her sights while she kept the war fan to his throat had placed her in prime position when the fighting started. It didn't look as if she'd landed any blows on the panda, though his fur did look mussed and sliced in a few places.

 

At the moment, however, the snow leopardess was at a disadvantage—for the Dragon Warrior had stomped on her foot, the same as he had Tai Lung's during their final encounter, only instead of stepping back, he still had the appendage in question pinned to the ground, trapping Chun only a few feet away from him—and the reason for her cry was apparent, too. Po was casually, even eagerly, boxing with the feline's face, both black-furred fists rocking her head back as they punched in endless circles.

 

He caught Tai Lung looking at him. "This is easier than I thought!"

 

"Panda, look out!"

 

Po whipped his head back to look—somewhere in there, one of his punches had stunned her enough to make her drop the fan, but in its place she had pulled out her Wind and Fire Wheel, and the gleaming, jagged blades were already slashing straight at his unprotected belly.

 

Letting out a cry, he managed to dodge aside just in time—but this freed the feline's foot, and in seconds she was twisting up and to the side, so that Po's sideways leap took him right into the path of her waiting kick. The wind knocked out of him, the panda landed hard on the muddy ground…right next to an apple that had fallen from a nearby tree.

 

The snow leopard wanted to rush to the Dragon Warrior's defense, but a groan made him look back to his own opponent in a hurry. Looking rather dizzy and out of sorts, Jia knelt at the base of a tree, clutching her woozy head. But Xiu, who had rather disgustedly shoved her there, was already back on her feet—and she had her own Wind and Fire Wheel out and brandished, the light glinting coldly from its metal the same as it did from her eyes and fangs.

 

Narrowing his eyes, he leaped at her in the same instant she moved. A powerful kick actually struck this time, striking Xiu's narrow chest and toppling her backward. Recovering faster than seemed possible or fair, she landed on one knee, only to bring her fire wheel about in a crescent slice—which would have cut his chest open, if he hadn't skidded to a stop just in time. While he was thus off-balance, she swung again, this time stabbing down toward his foot.

 

Again he dodged, so that the blades buried themselves in the mud instead, and brought his fist down to strike her elbow—hoping to numb the nerves there and make her drop her weapon. Yet the assassin was as slippery as an eel, evading the blow with a quick roll to the side—and as she got her feet underneath her again, the back of the fire wheel came up, aimed right at Tai Lung's jaw.

 

Stars exploded in his vision as he didn't duck in time, and he staggered back at the power behind that attack. If the padded handgrip hadn't been what struck him, he had a feeling his jaw would have broken. Trying to shake off his dizziness, he hurriedly brought his paws up in another block—just in time, as Xiu tried the same tactic again, this time with alternating X-blows.

 

He managed to latch onto her wrist—except she used his grip as a bracing point, literally turning her sinuous body about to _run_ up his stomach and chest, inverting to perform a flawless backflip and tear free, sailing several feet away and landing with all the grace and perfection of their species. And along the way, she kicked him in the chin, again. _Damnit!_

 

Rubbing his chin, he shook his head several times to clear it of the ringing…and the inexplicable, puzzling sound of...laughter? Again he turned, daring to look—since for an odd moment, Xiu too had stopped, poised with the fire wheel drawn back for another whirling blow, to also stare in the same direction he was.

 

Both of them saw that it was Jia who was laughing, and she had good reason to: Po had succeeded in stepping on Chun's other foot, and when the snow leopardess let out a yowl of pain, he'd shoved the apple right into her mouth, as if she were trussed up and ready to serve for dinner.

 

Jia wasn't laughing long, though, because as Chun stumbled backwards—courtesy of a kick from Po!—and tried to wrench the apple free, the panda was already scooping up an armful of apples...and with surprising accuracy and more than a little cocky enthusiasm, began throwing one after another at the youngest sister, pelting her with the shiny red fruit.

 

Overhand, backhand, even between his own legs, he tossed them indiscriminately, until a veritable hail of them filled the air. One struck Jia right in the middle of her forehead, and Po let out a belting laugh of his own. "Hah! An apple a day keeps the assassin away!" Smirking, he actually bent over and thrust his rump at her, shaking it from side to side and wriggling his tail in a blatantly provocative gesture.

 

Annoyed, Jia threw one of her Wind and Fire Wheels at him, but it missed as he danced aside. "Aww, _c'mon_! What was that? Ya couldn't hit th' broad side of a rickshaw!" Her second fire wheel came much closer, one of its blades actually tearing a hole in the side of his shorts. He clapped a paw over his exposed rump fur. "Whoa! Okay, that was a close one, I'll give ya that..."

 

From nearby he heard a snort, and then Xiu chuckled. " _Please_ don't tell me _you_ trained him."

 

"Certainly not." _Though I'm starting to wish I had. He isn't going to last long like that_. "Shifu did."

 

Xiu laughed again. "That explains a few things."

 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" He started to turn, hoping to take the eldest sister by surprise while her attention was still focused on the other battle, but then he saw another movement out of the corner of his eye—and as he looked at Chun again, who had succeeded in dislodging the apple and was glaring at Po with offended dignity, he gasped as he recognized the weapon she had pulled from inside her tunic. The one she was now twirling and swinging in an increasingly widening arc around her head, its flexible rope tensing and stretching as the heavy metal weight at its end accumulated more and more energy with every whirl. _Bugger! She's got a meteor hammer!_ He started to leap towards the middle sister, ready to duck under the arc of the rope to knock her off her feet...

 

But he'd forgotten Xiu. Without warning, a pair of feet locked together slammed into his hip, making his legs buckle—and then they swung around again, this time smacking him painfully in the gut. He toppled sideways and backwards, landing hard in the mud…and as he lay there, panting and breathing hard, he saw the sun become blocked out by a silhouette standing over him, as the Wu Sister smiled—teeth gleaming brightly in the black featurelessness of her face—while she lifted her fire wheel high. "I don't know though," she commented almost conversationally. "You certainly seem just as inept as the panda is."

 

Gritting his teeth, Tai Lung slithered his paw through the mud—easily missed, since it had turned almost the same brown as the ground around it—until it was only a few inches away. "Snow leopards," he growled, "should match." And latching onto her ankle, he gave a vicious yank.

 

Wu Xiu, who'd been about to bring the fire wheel smashing down again, let out an unladylike shriek as she toppled into the muddy shallows of the lake with a splash. Chuckling nastily to himself, the ex-convict rolled over, got his paws beneath him, and leaped adroitly to his feet.

 

In seconds, he saw that Po too had fallen victim to a tripping attack—this one perpetrated by a swing from Chun's meteor hammer, which had in fact been wrapped and coiled tightly around the panda's ankles, the weight at the end fixing it in place to entangle him quite properly. Looking up from where he lay flat on his belly, once again covered with lily pads and broken seed stalks, he rested his mournful gaze on Tai Lung. "Oops."

 

The snow leopard started toward him to help him up (after making sure to smack him around repeatedly for the ridiculous antics he'd pulled to put him in such a vulnerable position). But then Jia, who had managed to extricate herself from the mound of apples, leaped in his way—and even though she had the same playful, if rather disgruntled, expression as ever, Tai Lung found himself freezing in place as he saw what she was bringing into play against him. Her sister's war fan, scooped up at some point during the fighting. And the way she held it indicated clear competency, even expert skill.

_Oh hell. They're cross-trained!_

 

The violet-eyed sister didn't leave him long to consider this development, however, as she was already leaping forward with the fan brandished, its sharp blades aiming right at his throat. At the last second, though, she faltered, and this gave him time to lean backwards out of reach of the weapon, counterbalanced by his whipping tail. Jia paused, her face hovering only inches away from his heaving chest, and smiled suggestively—until her eyes screwed up in pain, as he kicked her hard and sent her flying back across the clearing.

 

Of course she was right back up again and heading back toward him, this time much more serious and intent, but that gave him enough chance to kill two birds with one stone. Ducking down beside Po, he latched onto the metallic ball at the end of the meteor hammer, giving it a good jerk upwards. Immediately the rope unspooled—in the process making the poor panda whirl and roll around in mid-air before landing on his back again in the water. "Sorry, panda, but I have more need of this than you do," he muttered. Jia was only a few feet away now—but Tai Lung was already springing in the opposite direction, back across the glade toward the path, as if he were attempting to flee the scene.

 

At the last minute, however, he turned back—and was already coiling the rope around one paw, the other whirling the meteor hammer's free end in an ever-tightening circle at eye-level. Tossing it outward, he retained his hold on the other end...if he had timed this right, and remembered his lessons well... He had. With a snarl of frustration and an annoyed curse, Jia stopped short, glaring down almost cutely at the winding rope that had wrapped completely around the war fan in her hand. Tai Lung gave her what he knew was a pompous smile and jerked on the weight. "Mine!" The fan flew free of her grip, fluttering through the air, and disappearing into the underbrush as the rope twisted around it unwound and loosened.

 

While Jia went darting back across the clearing, either leaping into the brush to find the fan or going to reclaim the fire wheels she'd thrown at Po, the snow leopard turned back, looking for his most dangerous opponent. To his disbelief and contempt, Xiu was just now emerging from the waters of the lake, since apparently she'd taken the time after his last rather, er, dirty move to actually wash her fur clean of all the sticky mud.

 

Now, dripping and furious as any cat dunked in water would be, her blue eyes more vicious and murderous than ever, the eldest sister came at him again with her own circular slasher poised before her. Cracking his neck, he spread both arms wide, ducking low to find his center of gravity and draw strength from such a well-rooted support...he pushed off with one foot and began to leap forward, the meteor hammer already twirling...

 

The only warning he had was a faint whistle in the air, and it wasn't enough to prevent the ignominy. Even as he slid to a stop (and just managed to avoid falling flat on his face as his feet skidded on a lily pad), he felt the constriction around his sides, then pinning his arms in place as rope bit into his furred flesh. In seconds, another meteor hammer had completely coiled around his body, trapping his arms and cutting across his chest and back as the weight at its other end whirled around a few more times, only to settle atop its own anchor, smacking in between his shoulder blades with bruising force.

 

Glaring back behind him, he saw Wu Chun standing there looking quite pleased with herself—or as much as she ever did, in this case consisting of both eyebrows being raised and the corner of her mouth turned up a few more centimeters than usual. He'd thought she would continue focusing on the Dragon Warrior...

 

But he couldn't bemoan his stupidity, for both Xiu and Chun were coming for him now, while he spied Jia re-appearing with her fire wheel and making a beeline straight for Po where he'd just made it back to his feet. If he expected to win this fight, he had to go on the offensive, he had to turn the sisters' advantage of numbers into a liability, and he had to get free. So...

 

Clenching his fists, he bunched the massive muscles of his arms and shoulders, gathering all of the strength that nearly twenty years of arduous training, and another twenty of _chi_ saturation, had built within him. Furrowing his brow as sweat began to soak into his pelt, he stretched...strained...flexed...he could feel the fibers beginning to give way...

 

And just as Xiu came in low—if he knew her, about to bash him in the groin with the back of her fire wheel—while Chun raised her own wheel above the back of his head, with a roar of mingled fury and triumph, he burst his bindings, the meteor hammer's rope snapping completely apart under the pressure of his biceps.

 

He surged free, leaping at Xiu with a punch that rocked her head back and sent her skidding on her rump along the lakeshore, then whirling to give the same treatment to Chun with a kick to the stomach. _Old, eh? Top that, bitches!_

 

The middle sister staggered back to her feet, leaning against a tree trunk and clutching her stomach painfully, yet her face still betrayed no emotion except wry amusement. "Damn. We lose more weapons that way."

 

Xiu, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her paw, appeared on his other side, and both of them lifted their fire wheels. Somewhere in the breaking of the rope, he'd lost his hold on his own meteor hammer and so no longer had a weapon. But this time, as they caught him in the middle of their formation, he was no longer confined, and it showed in how he reacted with split-second timing to stop them.

 

Using the same tactics Xiu had when the fight first started, he ducked and leaned, twisted and bobbed, always using his feline flexibility to avoid every single strike the sisters made at him. Just when their frustration at not landing a blow must have reached a fever pitch, he rose to his full height and lashed out once, twice, in quick succession—first, a Crane deflection strike that knocked Chun backwards yet again; then he hooked his other arm around Xiu's elbow, wrenching her about and placing a crushing pressure on the nerves there in the same motion, so that she cried out and dropped her fire wheel from her suddenly numb fingers.

 

But he wasn't through with them yet. Tossing Xiu to land beside her sister, Tai Lung ducked low and did a quick handspring to put him in just the right position. Landing on one paw—easily supporting himself with his upper body strength—he executed a perfect swivel-kick, rotating his entire body three hundred and sixty degrees with his paw as the pivot so that all his weight was brought to bear in the blows he dealt.

 

His feet struck Chun first, right in the knees, and she was completely knocked off her feet and sent flying into Xiu. Then, as the latter was struggling back upright with her second fire wheel in her paw that still had sensation, his feet separated so as to grasp Xiu around the neck, jerking her first above the lake, then releasing when she was above solid ground again. She flew across the clearing and vanished from his sight.

 

He lost track of her after that, since even as he sprang back to his feet again, the relentless Chun was coming for him again, now joined by Jia—who, it seemed, had gotten a bit of revenge on Po for the apples, since the panda was on his knees in the shallow water, the slashes of the war fan leaving red streaks like claw marks across his chest and arms, while he was clutching at the crotch of his shorts with an agonized expression.

 

But the snow leopard tuned out his friend's plight because he had no choice—if he let the pair of sisters defeat him, there would be no one to stop them from hurting Po any further before help could arrive.

 

Jia came at him with her wheel slashing hard—but at the last moment she twisted aside and instead ducked down to bring one foot slamming into his breastbone. He landed on his back in the lily pads with a splash. But he was only staggered a moment...and as she and Chun came for him again, one from either side, he gathered his paws beneath him and pushed off, jumping up to bring his legs apart in a perfect upside-down split. Both feet struck their targets, sending the sisters back yet again with kicks to the chest, and he was up and leaping at them again.

 

Back and forth they sparred in the shallows of the lake, atop the lilies, the only sounds now their harsh breathing, flesh and bone connecting with metal and wood, and the occasional growl and snarl. There was no breath now to spare for taunting and teasing, and no inclination for it now either—not even from Jia, who for the first time looked concerned, even scared, something which was making her attacks increasingly desperate. Chun, of course, only appeared implacable and adamant, but he could see something gleaming in her green eyes too...the beginnings of despair, or at least an understanding of futility.

 

And with those sights, he felt his heart pound faster. _He was winning. He was going to beat them._

 

The snow leopard blocked another blow of a fire wheel, only to strike in the same movement, his forearm keeping the weapon from landing even as his fist plowed its curled fingers into the face hovering behind it. He brought his other elbow back to catch one of them in the stomach—he'd lost track of who was who—then rotated again to hook his foot behind a knee and send her flailing in the waters.

 

One of them succeeded in wrapping her slender arm around his neck, but he reached back to grab her tunic and pulled her forward, bending at the waist and snapping his torso down to send her flipping over his head. The other—he thought it was Chun—got hold of one arm and jerked to the side and back, attempting to dislocate his shoulder, but he brought his other paw up in a secret move he'd invented, curling his index finger up at the knuckle as he punched so as to strike the pressure point right at the temple.

 

Chun released him immediately, staggering backwards as if drunk, although she'd been holding on so tightly that a large chunk of his fur ripped out in the process, still clutched between her crooked fingers.

 

At last, in a last-ditch effort to subdue him, both sisters sprang at him from opposite sides once again, their fire wheels pointed so that, no matter how he blocked them, their metallic flames would pierce his arm—or his heart, if he didn't block them in time. Gathering all the power in his haunches, he drew upon another unique move he had developed, one he'd put into play against the rhinos during his escape from Chorh-Gom: leaping high into the air above the lake, he threw himself into a horizontal position and caught hold of each snow leopardess with ankles and wrists—one around the chest, the other the neck—simultaneously twisting them around in mid-air.

 

By the time he'd tossed both of the extraordinarily dizzy, weary, battered assassins to the ground and landed himself, prepared for another assault, he found it wasn't needed. Chun and Jia could barely hold their fire wheels, it seemed, one quivering on hands and knees, the other leaning weakly against a boulder. Grinning in spite of himself—he _knew_ he was better than them, and now at last he had proven it—Tai Lung at last turned back to slog out of the lake to look for Wu Xiu.

 

When he got there, however, and looked where he'd last seen the wicked killer, his breath caught in his throat…and his fists clenched spasmodically, helplessly.

 

The panda was almost exactly where he'd last seen him, still on his knees, though he didn't think the bear had been there the whole time—not if the sheer amount of churned mud and the telltale marks of deep gouges created by a fire wheel were any indication. Though he didn't seem to be any bloodier than before, there were a large number of bluish-purple bruises already clear through his fur...a number of them lining his ribs, as if he'd been kicked there repeatedly. He had a black eye, nearly swollen shut; he was nursing one elbow, as if it had been sprained; and from the glazed look in his eyes, he was barely conscious. But that wasn't what so shocked, infuriated...and terrified Tai Lung.

 

Wu Xiu stood behind Po, one knee pressed into the small of his back, one arm wrapped around his broad chest to keep him pinned against her—or even upright, for all he knew. The other paw held both ends of a fine cord...one which was wound around the panda's throat. The garrote, the one he had discarded near the very start of the battle and completely forgotten about. And even as he watched, thick red fluid was welling up around it, slowly staining the pristine white fur.

 

"Buddy...?"

 

"Panda..." He swallowed hard, then looked up at Xiu as he took a menacing step closer. "Let go of him this instant, or else I—"

 

"Not an inch closer, or this gets tugged the rest of the way and your friend loses his head."

 

Tai Lung froze. Slowly lowering his paws, and forcing them to relax, his voice to modulate to a softer tone, he said, "Come now. We can be reasonable, eh? Some sort of accommodation can be reached?"

 

"You already know my terms." Xiu's eyes never wavered as she stared at him, nor did her fingers loosen on the garrote. "You come with us, and you join our clan. Perhaps you've changed your mind about that after all, now?" Tai Lung was silent. "Hmm. I thought not. A pity." The wire tightened, drawing still more blood.

 

"Xiu...please." He swallowed again. "This has nothing to do with him. It's me you want. Let him go. I...I'll meet you again later, after I've had time to think about this, and we'll...discuss the matter."

 

Before she could do more than open her mouth, sounds suddenly emanated from the forest—what seemed to be pounding feet, snapping twigs, rustling leaves, shouted voices. He thought he recognized Tigress's, and from farther off, Viper's. The sounds of their combat must have drawn the rest of the Five. The odds were about to completely tip away from the Wu Sisters' favor.

 

Wu Xiu seemed to know it too—he could see her calculating her chances, especially with Chun and Jia out of commission for the foreseeable future. In seconds, her expression became resigned…then frustrated, even annoyed. With a small cry of disgust, she released her hold on Po and tugged the garrote free in the same motion. With only a small gasp of pain, the panda fell forward into the water, sending up another loud splash.

 

"Your 'friend' is very lucky I don't feel like dying today, or answering too many questions. And I have orders to follow that don't include gracing a prison cell or quizzing you on how to plot the perfect escape. But we will meet again, Tai Lung. Of that, you can be quite sure."

 

He watched, both confused and angered, as Xiu returned to the lakeshore, leaning down to gather up all evidence that she and her sisters had been there—the war fan, the discarded meteor hammer, the remnants of the other he had broken. By the time she reached her fallen siblings, both of them were awake and on their feet again...groggy, clutching their sides or their shoulders, but sure as anything recovering.

 

Even though he had won, they were going to get away...and that, added to Po's condition, really made it a draw. But that wasn't what upset him.

 

They had almost made it to the path heading east, and were at the edge of the glade, when he came up behind them, growling nastily. "What's the matter, Xiu? Afraid of the Furious Five? Or their master? And it's not like you to leave a job unfinished. Aren't you going to take even a moment to kill me?"

 

Xiu glanced back at him, and his heart sank as he saw a very contented, satisfied look in her eyes to match the smug grin she wore. "Who said I was after you?"

 

Tai Lung stared after her, as paralyzed as if he'd been hit with one of his own nerve strikes, as the full import of what she was saying struck him and sank down into his very marrow. The whole fight...a distraction. The target...had been the Dragon Warrior the entire time.

 

And he'd fallen for it. He'd let himself be goaded, provoked, driven to focus on the others, until he hadn't seen anything but what was right in front of his face...and then, Xiu had taken her hit. She had made an utter fool of him...and it had been Po who had to pay the price.

 

Po!

 

Dashing back to the lakeshore, the snow leopard prayed harder than he ever had to the gods that he was wrong in what he'd seen, that it wasn't too late, that there was still a chance to save him. But when he found the black-and-white form crumpled in the lily-strewn water, his worst fears were confirmed. He wasn't moving. He didn't even seem to be breathing.

 

And as he grasped the panda's side to roll him over, pull his face out of the water so he wouldn't drown...if he even could anymore...he spied the expanding cloud of scarlet staining the water with his life-essence.

 

Letting the Dragon Warrior land on his back with another splash, he stared down at him, aghast...at the incredibly deep cut, like a gaping mouth, that continued oozing and leaking crimson at an astonishing and horrifying rate. _Who knew the panda had so much blood in him?_

 

Hurriedly he tried to stop the flow, pressing his paws as hard as he dared into Po's throat—he could feel his pulse throbbing against his fingers, and it was slowing down, slowly but surely, a fact that only made Tai Lung's pound all the faster. He put his ear to the panda's chest, listening desperately. He pushed harder still, until both the blood still spurting and that which had already escaped welled up around his fingers. And even though it was futile and pointless, even ludicrous, he found himself shaking the panda back and forth, as if he were only asleep and would waken with a little urging.

 

"Panda? Panda? Speak to me! Damnit, of all the times...I _know_ you can hear me. C'mon, wake up! You have to tell me all about how you defeated Wu Jia. I know you want to. It was legendary, right? But you can't tell me unless you wake up. I know you're stronger than this. I threw everything I had at you when we fought, and you still beat my tail. C'mon. Please, panda...panda..."

 

He heard his voice break, and didn't care. In fact it only made him more insistent, even as his voice lowered to a very small, quiet plea: "...Po...?"

 

Tai Lung was still leaning over him, feeling the tears staining his cheeks, when he again heard the pounding of feet on the pathway, and then suddenly twin exclamations of disbelief, anguish...and rage. Hurriedly he looked up.

 

There, at the edge of the lake, a face of umber fur striped with black and another of gold stared down at him as their owners' fists clenched and unclenched visibly. He couldn't move, his paws still trying to stem Po's blood loss. He could only shiver, bite his lip, and pray once more...as Tigress and Monkey slowly stalked toward him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing whatsoever to say here! Except to hope you noticed the bit more of backstory I gave Vachir; to apologize for Crane's opinions of Mongols and Huns which is not necessarily that of the author; welcome Mei Ling to the fic (yet another surprise I bet you weren't expecting!); note that the location of this fight, the lily-covered lake, is another reference to _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ (it was one of the places initially considered for Tai to fight the Five); and offer cookies to anyone who recognizes the Shakespearean reference in Tai Lung's thoughts.


	20. Pebble in the Pond

 

 

Chest heaving, her breath still raspy and slightly short as she struggled to recover from the dead run she'd taken here from the west, Tigress could not believe her eyes as she stared down at the tragic sight before her.

 

Po, the Dragon Warrior…the bear whose kind and forgiving heart, incurable optimism, and sheer, unbridled enthusiasm had brought life, harmony, and change to the Jade Palace and especially its master…lay half-in, half-out of the water, flat on his back, lily pads and broken stalks strewn over him like fallen garlands—the seemingly festive air horribly dispelled by the fact the water around him was starting to turn a cloudy, rusty hue, only becoming a deeper and darker red as his life's blood leaked out from the deep slash in his throat.

 

And Tai Lung, kneeling over him in the mud, clutching his shoulders as if on the verge of wildly shaking him, or more likely trying to shove him under and drown him…his paws stained the same vivid vermilion. When his sharp ears detected her presence, the snow leopard jerked his head up violently, letting go of Po as if he'd been burned. His expression as he gazed at her was stricken—and terribly guilty.

 

And the instant she saw that, Tigress saw red.

 

Dimly, she was aware that Tai Lung was staggering to his feet, holding out his bloody paws to her helplessly as if he actually thought she would sympathize with his plight. "Tigress! Oh, thank the gods you're here! You have to help him, he—"

 

The snow leopard didn't get to finish his sentence, because with a fearsome, snarling roar into which she poured all of her hate, the striped feline leaped forward so quickly the tree trunks and wet, hanging leaves whipped by in a streaking blur—and just like that, the ex-convict was on the other side of the clearing, pinned to the bole of a beech tree, her paw clenching and constricting around his throat until the claws broke the skin.

 

"You bastard," she growled, her voice sounding feral and barely recognizable even to herself. "You evil, fucking _bastard_."

 

Tai Lung remained perfectly still where she had slammed him, whether because he knew how dangerous it was to make a wrong (or any) move or because her incredible strength had actually taken him by surprise and rendered him helpless; she dearly hoped it was the latter. "T-Tigress…" he choked out around her paw. "It…it isn't…what it looks like…"

 

"Like _hell_ it isn't!" she snapped. "We caught you red-handed—literally!"

 

The snow leopard actually looked mortally offended, which only made her even more furious. "No…I was just trying…to help him. Staunch…the bleeding…"

 

She let out a cynical, snide laugh. " _Right_. Tell me another one. You've been waiting for this, planning this, ever since the beginning, haven't you? Just hoping we'd get complacent, someone wouldn't be paying attention, you'd get him all alone, and then _wham_!" She slammed his head back into the bark again for emphasis, bringing down a shower of wet leaves. "I can't believe you…I can't believe I—we _trusted_ you."

 

"Damnit, Tigress!" For the first time he sounded as if he were getting angry—not that it would do him any good. "I didn't…hurt him. I swear it! But you've got to help him…"

 

"Oh, we will," she purred confidently. "Mantis is the best healer in Hubei, maybe the whole empire. He'll be able to save Po." She squeezed his throat again. "I don't think the same can be said of _you_." As she spoke, she felt her anger becoming all the more molten and uncontrollable, her teeth gritting in rage.

 

It wasn't just that Po was the Dragon Warrior, the key to maintaining peace in China and the one who had finally brought it to Master Shifu as well. He was her friend…even if she'd had a funny way of showing it before this…and she cared about him more than she wanted to admit. Underneath all that bumbling idiocy, ridiculous playacting, and corny humor beat the heart of a good man, a gentle soul, a surprisingly wise fellow…and a true hero.

 

It had taken her so long to see it, to realize he hadn't intentionally stolen her birthright, did not disrespect kung fu—in fact, he probably respected it _more_ than anyone she had ever met—and practically worshiped the ground she walked on. Once she had, she'd become fiercely protective of Po. Knowing he found Tai Lung more praiseworthy than she had hurt her to the core…finding out later that he still admired and looked up to her as much as he ever had, had been extraordinarily gratifying and wonderful.

 

So to know that Tai Lung had not just targeted the panda thanks to his possession of the Dragon Scroll, but had actually dared to hurt him, had come this close to killing him…it only made Tigress all the more frantic with the need to rip his throat out.

 

"Tigress, _listen_ to me! Listen to yourself!" the snow leopard choked out. "It…wasn't…me. Why won't you believe me? Why would I stay here for you to catch me at it, if I'd done what you said?"

 

"Pride," she sniffed. "You wanted to savor your victory, show off what you'd done. Or you wanted to kill us, too, so you lingered. Besides, we got here too quickly—we heard the sounds of battle and showed up just in time…"

 

Tai Lung stared at her, seemingly bewildered and stunned, yet also with a bit of contempt in his gaze. She couldn't believe how good an actor he was. "So that's it then, eh? No trial, no chance to give my side of the story? You'll be my judge and executioner all in one?" He struggled against her, but aside from her paw on his throat, her other arm held his own trapped against his body, while one knee came very close to slamming him in the groin as her lower half crushed his legs into place. "Doesn't sound like the fair, just woman you're reputed to be…"

 

"You don't deserve fairness," she snarled, as coldly as she could manage. "Not after what you've done. You betrayed our master—again. You let down all those people who thought they could believe in you. And Po…he was the one person who never gave up on you, who always thought you could change. And this is how you repay him? How _could_ you?" She couldn't keep her voice from breaking as the tears started to well up. How could she ever have accepted a flower from this man? Xiulan had seen the truth about him, and been utterly in the right to chastise Tigress at the festival.

 

Those golden orbs—eyes which had alternately enticed her and repelled her, drawn her in with the intense, fiery soul shining behind them and turned her away in disgust when she saw the malice and indifference they could hold—flicked away briefly, over her shoulder to where Po's wound was being tended and compressed by Monkey. And he had the nerve to look upset, to swallow against a lump in his throat! "You're right about him. Absolutely right. He's the only one who could forgive me, unconditionally." His eyes flashed. "And that's why I could _never_ do that to him, not now. Please believe me."

 

For a moment—just a moment—she wavered. No matter how much she longed to deny it, there was sincerity and remorse in those lambent eyes. But that had to be feigned too, just another lie, just like what he'd told her in the forest the other night, just like everything else he'd ever said to her. Because there was no one else who could have done that to Po, not with Tai Lung fighting alongside him—even if someone else had done this, he must have stepped aside and allowed it. And it all made so much sense, when she'd heard Monkey explain it before, what the snow leopard would do…

 

"Why should I?" she said instead. "There's no way you could mean that. You hated him, you tried to kill him before. Why not again?"

 

"Things change. People change. _I've_ changed." He gasped as she once again came close to crushing his windpipe. "Or at least I'm trying to."

 

"No, they don't. Not like that. And not for you." She couldn't keep the smugness, or the callousness, out of her voice. "And I'll make sure you don't get another chance to try and fool us like that again. Remember what I said to you, that night in your cell?" She paused meaningfully, waited for the dawning of understanding to appear in his eyes. Then she leaned in close to hiss to him. "Consider the line crossed."

 

She waited again until she was certain he understood…until she saw the light die in his eyes, until she actually saw fear take up residence there. Then she drew back her free paw, claws unsheathed, to strike…

 

…only to have something supple, muscular, and powerful wrap and coil around her arm, wrenching it back so she could not land her blow.

 

Twisting about with a rather rancid oath, Tigress was not at all surprised to see Viper there, her tail wrapped around the feline's waist for support while she kept her leader's arm restrained. Nor was she very pleased, since the serpent was staring at her in shock and the beginnings of fury. "What do you think you're _doing,_ Tigress?"

 

"What am I doing?" she snapped, only by sheer force of will keeping herself from mouthing off at her dearest friend. "I think I'm putting a stop to his evil, once and for all."

 

Viper's jaw dropped, then closed in a grim line. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I think you'd better step back and let the rest of us handle this. You seem to be…a little too close to the situation."

 

At any other time, Tigress would have groaned at the inadvertent pun, or else laughed at it. Now, however, all she could do was unobtrusively clench her fist (though she was sure Viper could feel the muscle contractions through her coil and so knew what she was up to) and prepare to tear it free, even as she jerked her head back over her shoulder in the direction of the lake. "Look at Po, Viper. _Look. At. Him!_ And then see if you can tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

 

"I know," the serpent said, sorrow and worry mingling in her voice, even though she only flicked her eyes aside briefly to the panda, never looking away from Tigress. "And Mantis will take care of him; I hope and pray he'll be all right. But that doesn't excuse this. You are our leader, but we need to handle this the way we always have—all of us working _together_ , not you deciding it all for us. Let Tai Lung go. Now. Please."

 

The striped feline glanced back at the killer in question, noticed he still looked rather frightened as well as growing more resentful and furious as time passed and he was left impotent to do anything. She found she liked seeing him that way more than might be good for her…but she didn't obey Viper.

 

In fact she bristled at the clear rebuke; how dare the serpent question her leadership? She had the right of it here, she knew it. Viper hadn't seen what she had, or heard what Monkey had to say… "If I do, he'll either run away, or attack us. All five of us couldn't defeat him before, what makes you think we could now? And either way, we won't get justice for Po."

 

"I won't do either," the snow leopard rasped, still having difficulty breathing—and she intended to keep it that way. "I'm in this for the long haul, remember? Whatever happens to me…whether good or bad…it's going to happen at the Jade Palace, nowhere else. And even if I wasn't…I won't leave until I know Po's all right."

 

"Like you expect me to believe that," Tigress growled. But, even though she longed to keep him pinned until she had crushed his trachea entirely, she also knew that in the short time she'd known him, Tai Lung had never broken his word. If he promised not to attack or flee, she had to believe him…and in any event, soon enough the others would arrive, and she didn't think the snow leopard could defeat all of them, especially Shifu; the defeat of their master had occurred when Tai Lung was more driven by rage and hate, not to mention involved a great deal of unfair attacks.

 

But there was no fire here to strike the red panda with, nor solid marble walls and floor to smash him into. All of them were fresh, while the snow leopard was not, since he must have just fought Po. They had the upper hand here…

 

"But fine," Tigress finally spat as she released his throat with a jerk and stepped back, letting the snow leopard collapse to his knees. "Enjoy your freedom while it lasts. I'm only doing this so you can tell us everything. We have to know all the details before we can render judgment. I hope you know every word from your mouth will condemn you."

 

Gasping and coughing, the spotted feline didn't move from his kneeling posture for several minutes, as he shakily massaged his throat and struggled to get his breathing back under control. Again, seeing him in such an inferior and submissive posture was far too pleasing to Tigress.

 

Viper released her arm, although the serpent remained where she was, in a clear position to intervene should the master of the Tiger style go for Tai Lung's jugular again—or, she supposed if she wanted to be more charitable about it, should the ex-convict discard his oath and launch himself at Tigress instead. But if he were to do so, she'd be ready for him; for after only a brief glance aside to check and see that Mantis had indeed taken over the medical proceedings, she was right back fixing her steely gaze upon the snow leopard, fists clenched at her sides while her tail lashed violently.

 

Finally, Tai Lung looked up, and though he seemed to still be adopting the penitent air that so disgusted her, she could see the fires of his temper beginning to rekindle in those golden eyes which, damn it all, still drew her in even now with their depth and passion. "It wasn't what it looked like, Master Tigress. I truly was trying to help him. Nor was I the one to do that to him." For a moment a haughty air and a definite smugness hung over his features. "Believe me, if _I_ had attacked him, he'd be suffering from a lot more than a slit throat."

 

"Then just who was it?" Tigress demanded. She knew it couldn't be the one who'd killed the old goat, he too would have done much worse than this. But there wasn't anyone else left.

 

Snarling under his breath, the ex-convict clenched his fist. "The Wu Sisters."

 

For several moments, everyone was silent as they took in this shocking and unexpected information. Then, Tigress laughed derisively. "Right. The Wu Sisters. Who, conveniently enough, vacated the area before we could get a good look at them? Who haven't been seen in action in this part of China for ten years? Who are so damn legendary you could've just picked their names out of the air to pin your crime on? You have to do better than that, Tai Lung. If you're going to lie to us, at least try not to insult our intelligence."

 

Lurching to his feet, his shoulders hulking and swelling with barely repressed fury, the snow leopard stalked toward her, his eyes blazing wildly beneath his bony brows. "Look, _princess_ ," he snarled, shaking his fist. "Here's the way this works: first I actually commit a crime, and _then_ you get to accuse me of it!"

 

"Please!" she snapped. "You're not making any sense. Why in the name of the Jade Emperor would the Wu Sisters be after Po? They're assassins for hire, they have no reason to be after the Dragon Scroll. Wouldn't they be more likely to target the one who might actually be a threat to them…you?"

 

Tigress smirked mockingly. Not that she enjoyed belittling Po, but the truth was he was nowhere near as dangerous as the snow leopard. And if she was to be completely honest with herself, she didn't like the idea that someone she didn't know might have it in for the panda.

 

"That's what I thought too, at first," Tai Lung admitted, the anger starting to bleed out of him as his thoughts turned inward. "But I was wrong. They weren't after me at all…I was just a distraction, a feint. In fact they had plenty of opportunities to kill me, and didn't take the chance to."

 

Monkey, who had come up behind Tigress now that Mantis was there to look after Po, snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now I know you're lying, Tai Lung. Why wouldn't they wanna kill you? Everyone who meets you wants to kill you. _I_ wanna kill you."

 

The sound of scaled flesh striking fur echoed shockingly in the quiet clearing, and when Tigress dared to look over her shoulder, she was stunned to see Viper withdrawing her tail from having slapped it, hard, across Monkey's face. The langur had clapped a hand to his mouth, even as he glared over it with pain-filled tearing eyes, while the serpent looked horrified at what she had done.

 

But she didn't back down from her infuriated stance, either, and her voice was only slightly shaky. "I'm sorry, Monkey…but that was one of the worst things I've ever heard you say. What has gotten _into_ you?"

 

Monkey looked oddly evasive at that question, but Tigress, seeing only more division and resentment among the Five, merely turned on Tai Lung again. "He's right, though. Wouldn't you be the natural target? If someone wanted to hurt Shifu, they'd kill you; and if they had an agenda that threatened the peace, well you _are_ the master of the thousand scrolls. If anything, they should have tried to kill both of you."

 

Tai Lung spread his paws helplessly. "Who am I to know the mind of an assassin? All I know is, they didn't seem to want to kill me. Maybe they were ordered not to?"

 

For the briefest moment, she heard a catch in his voice, a hesitation, a suggestion that he might not have been speaking the full truth. He did know something more, something he wasn't telling her. And that pissed her off all over again. Stepping closer and striving for every inch of height, the leader of the Furious Five let out another soft growl.

 

"I'm getting tired of this, Tai Lung. I'm going to give you one last chance to come clean, admit that you did this, and remand yourself over to our custody, so Shifu can decide your fate. Because I know what I saw in your eyes, when I caught you with Po. You wouldn't have looked guilty unless you _were_ guilty."

 

Viper started to angrily protest, then saw the look on Tai Lung's face—not one of denial, but despair. "Tai Lung…no. You…you _couldn't_ have. You didn't…did you?" The aching hurt in her voice would have been a stab in the gut, if Tigress weren't feeling the same way, and convinced Tai Lung was the cause.

 

Looking at the serpent morosely, the snow leopard sighed. "No, I didn't. But I might as well have. I…" He looked down at his paws. "I let the Wu Sisters distract me, confuse me. I was so damned focused on them, I didn't pay attention to what they were doing to Po. I got so caught up in the fight, the adrenaline rush, proving I was better than them, that I didn't realize I was being had…not until it was too late. So what happened…I didn't do it, but it was still my fault." His voice was more bitter and regretful than she'd ever heard it. That couldn't have been the truth he'd spoken, could it? He must simply be that good, that was all…

 

"Maybe so," Mantis suddenly spoke up from the lakeshore. "But that pressure you were putting on his throat, Tai Lung—if that's really what you were doing…it may have saved his life."

 

For a moment everyone stared at each other, at Mantis, and then at Po's fallen body—the snow leopard with the first dawning of relief and gratitude, Viper in tearful happiness, and Monkey and Tigress in equal parts hate and distrust. Finally the striped feline stalked back over to Tai Lung's side and hauled him off the ground by his shirt front.

 

"Well then…whatever reason you have for doing this, whatever really happened here, you'd _better_ hope doubly that Po lives now. Because if he dies, the truth dies with him." She dragged him closer, until she could stare right into his eyes, muzzle to muzzle. "And then you'll be following him."

 

At that moment, a voice spoke behind her, one as firm, authoritative, and peremptory as she'd ever heard. "Tigress…put him down. Then step away from him—I don't want to see you touching him, or even near him, until I say you can. Do I make myself clear?"

 

Turning her head to let out a scathing reply, she rested her gaze on Shifu's diminutive form…and her voice died in her throat as she saw the look on her master's face. She had _never_ seen him look at her that way, not even when he reprimanded her in the kwoon as she was growing up and training at the palace. She didn't think he could, or would, kill her…but the expression suggested he would at least leave her terribly maimed and out of commission for weeks if she didn't obey and back down this instant.

 

For a moment, she felt her heart harden and glared back at Shifu with just as much fury and determination—for his attitude just now proved what she had always secretly known, that she did not have his love, never would, because he had given it first and completely to Tai Lung. And it even still stayed with the snow leopard now, after all the murders committed during his rampage, after nearly being killed twice by his 'son', and after the supposedly reformed cat had come this close to slaughtering Po!

 

But then, at last, she released Tai Lung and shoved him back in the same motion, so that he staggered and almost fell to his knees again. "Fine," she growled, stalking across the clearing until she stopped to lean resentfully against a tree trunk. "But I think you're making a big mistake…Master."

 

More silence, interrupted only by the incongruous sound of birdsong in the afternoon air. Then at last, after staring hard at Tigress for several long moments, Shifu tucked his hands in his sleeves and ran his gaze around the glade, taking in Po's condition with a calm acceptance that would have been callous if it weren't par for the course with him. He met the eyes of each of the masters gathered there, as they regarded him in return. Then he spoke, forcefully and intensely. "Now…would someone please tell me, what happened here?"

 

Between her sullenness and still simmering anger, as well as the current state of affairs between herself and Shifu, Tigress did not trust herself to speak, so she left the relation of events to Viper and Monkey, who of course gave accounts that were diametric opposites of each other—yet still managed to cover all the salient points. After all had been said, and everyone had fallen silent once more, the red panda slowly glanced around the clearing yet again, his expression flat and unreadable, and everyone waited for his response with bated breath—Tai Lung most of all.

 

Of his own accord, the snow leopard had sunk to his knees again, and although he did nothing as maudlin or overwrought as wringing his paws, his throat did seem rather tight. And as Shifu's gaze rested sternly on him, drilling right down to his former son's heart, the feline seemed to quail visibly…but his eyes also pleaded openly with his master to understand, to believe him. He seemed unable to accept the fact that Shifu might turn on him yet again and reject him.

 

Tigress, for her part, understood just how he felt—for she in turn was unable to accept the wavering and uncertainty she detected in the panda's aged blue eyes. How? How could he be willing yet again to forgive, to trust, to fall for the snow leopard's lies and crocodile tears?

 

The same way, she supposed, she herself had been fooled by Tai Lung. Even now, staring down at the snow leopard's crouched form, a part of her found itself longing to reach out to lay a reassuring paw on his shoulder, to let him know everything would be all right, that they believed him. And that same part could not help but remember how intense, passionate, and overwhelming their kiss the night before had been…longed to throw caution to the wind, believe that a man who could make her feel so alive, so desirable, so needed, could not possibly be evil. And as soon as she could get him alone, she would slice those clothes from his body and show him just how sorry she was for blaming him…

 

She squeezed her eyes shut and raged inarticulately within her own mind. No. _No!_ This…was…wrong. He was a handsome man, but beneath that exterior beat the cankered heart of a horrific monster. It had to…

 

Even now, she couldn't believe it, she just could not believe it…that he would have the audacity, the gall, the sheer unmitigated cruelty to betray them like this, _now_ , after everything that had happened in the past two weeks. The entire time she'd been surveying the hills for some sign of the deplorable killer, Monkey had been attempting to convince her that Tai Lung still could not be trusted, that he was a lit firework just waiting to explode, that he would indeed pull something like this when he felt the time was right, and they had all let down their guards sufficiently.

 

He'd even tried to suggest that the snow leopard had killed that old goat himself, with his rage and disgusted hatred all a carefully contrived and orchestrated act, until she'd pointed out, as evenly as she could manage under the circumstances, that because of when the body had been discovered, it was impossible for Tai Lung to have done the deed—he'd been with them most of the night, playing Truth or Dare, and if he had gone out into the mountains before that, he would not have had time to dry his fur or remove the mud from his feet.

 

When that tack proved ineffective, the langur had then swung about to retread all the same tired thoughts she'd been through ever since the snow leopard was brought to the temple: he had changed too quickly, too completely, so it could not be real; his emotions could not be attached to a switch, he could not have truly turned off the genuine hatred he had felt for Shifu—one who had almost killed his father could not have meekly accepted further training from him; he was merely a very gifted and clever actor, one who was waiting for just the right moment to either steal the Dragon Scroll or kill them all.

 

And Monkey had especially been certain that after what Mantis had made Po do the night before, Tai Lung would not rest until he had tormented, humiliated, and eviscerated the panda who had made such a mockery of him.

 

Tigress had weathered it all with mingled boredom, irritation, and uncertain worry, and in the end refused to commit to any opinion, only stating that as always she would keep a close eye on Tai Lung until she knew she had the right of his intentions and heart. To which Monkey had snidely suggested that the spotted feline didn't have a heart…and if she believed he did, perhaps she was getting too close to it, and him.

 

That accusation had stung so deeply (if only because it was true) that she'd very coldly made clear to the simian that he'd be feasting on his own entrails if he didn't lay off the insinuations. That had finally shut him up, allowing her to retreat into her own thoughts—which, while not ordered and calm (as she feared they might never be again for some time), were at least blessedly silent.

 

But the seeds had been planted, she had once more begun to doubt and reject the snow leopard…even as some part of her, the part which wanted to believe he could change his spots because Shifu had once loved him, denied Monkey's suspicions and wanted to believe she was wrong about him.

 

Except she wasn't. She was right, and so was Monkey, the proof of it lay right here before her eyes. And while it filled her with the expected rage and hatred, it also brought more keening, agonizing pain to her heart than she had ever thought possible. Because, of course, he had chosen to reveal his treacherous nature only now— _when she was starting to love him_...

 

Snapping out of her reverie, and utterly denying what she had just admitted to herself, Tigress looked up to discover that Shifu continued to waffle, the old master still seeming unable to make up his mind whether to believe Viper or Monkey, to accept that Tai Lung had proven his murderous, turncoat nature or to still futilely imagine him to be a noble warrior who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And as soon as she saw this, Tigress could hold her tongue no longer. Pushing off from the tree and stepping forward, she growled, "Master…forgive me if it seems I'm speaking out of turn, but surely you know what you have to do?"

 

Very slowly, Shifu turned to look at her, and if it had been any other time, any other issue, she would have immediately backed down, ducked her head in deference, and apologized. But she couldn't knuckle under now, not when so much was at stake—Po's life, the lives of everyone at the Jade Palace, perhaps everyone in the Valley. So she stood her ground and met his gaze with a formidable determination of her own.

 

"What I must do," Shifu said at last, stiffly, "is consider _all_ the evidence, not merely that which conforms to what I would personally like to believe, before I pass judgment."

 

Stung by the rebuke, her cheeks flushing in shame, the striped feline couldn't keep from holding up a clenched fist. She had _warned_ him this was going to happen, back when Tai Lung first accepted his offer. "But, Master…surely you must see—"

 

He cut her off with a lifted hand. "What I see is that your judgment is compromised, Tigress. You are letting your feelings for Tai Lung cloud your reasoning." For a moment she was about to retort she had no feelings for the snow leopard and how dare he suggest she did—until she realized just in time that he referred to her distrust and hatred, not…other emotions. "If you continue to press me on this, I will not hesitate to put you on probation and confine you to the palace once we return to the Valley."

 

Stricken, she stepped back a pace. Briefly she thought she saw regret in Shifu's eyes, as if he did not wish to do such a thing but would follow through if he must. Then the moment passed, and he was all business again. "In any event…I also possess information you do not. I have with me someone who can testify that indeed, the Wu Sisters have been seen in this area." And he gestured behind him.

 

For the first time, Tigress realized her master was not alone—not only did Crane hover silent and uncertain beside him, there was another figure…fairly tall, lithe, a female mountain cat of some sort with oversized black ears, beige fur, and a form-fitting, eminently practical outfit of trousers and vest of navy blue and dark green leather, all shrouded by a black cloak.

 

Up till now she had been observing without a word, but as Shifu indicated her, she stepped forward and clasped her paws, bowing formally. "Master Tigress, greetings. I…I've heard so much about you, it is an honor to meet you at last." Her voice seemed to have a soft purr eternally present, friendly and warm but with a slight edge to it.

 

The leader of the Furious Five blinked a few times, not certain what to make of this. Who was this woman? What was she doing here, and what did she have to do with anything? She could tell from the way she moved, of course, that the other feline was a warrior as well, and the deferential way she spoke to Tigress was both proper and heartening. But beyond that… "Thank you. And you are…?"

 

"Forgive me, I am Mei Ling." She smiled ruefully. "I wish this could be under better circumstances."

 

Tigress was actually startled enough by the cat's identity to forget, momentarily, Po's condition and her venomous hatred for Tai Lung. She had heard of the woman—one of the best students to ever graduate from the Li Dai Academy, a master of both Tiger and Eagle Claw although she was actually proficient at every style. Also, if she remembered correctly, Mei Ling had been a classmate and friend to…yes, as she glanced aside at Crane she spied a faint blush staining his cheeks and a somewhat starstruck grin on his bill.

 

If matters were otherwise, the striped feline would either be teasing her avian friend for his old 'girlfriend' reappearing or genuinely praising Mei Ling for her accomplishments and gifts, things which had led to great deeds of heroism and encouraged women all over China to set their goals higher and believe in their dreams, as much as Tigress's own life had. As it was, though, she could only offer the mountain cat a tight smile and a brief nod before returning to the topic at hand. "I'm sorry, but…why are you here? And what light can you shed on all this?" She couldn't keep the tart tone out of her voice.

 

Mei Ling blinked, then drew herself up to her full height. "I ran into Crane in the marketplace, where he told me something he had overheard from one of the merchants, that three strangers had been seen in town…three women, felines. And there have been other unexplained deaths. He thought we should warn your master and the rest of you, and I agreed…because I was here looking for the Wu Sisters too." Her voice became bleak, its darker edge more pronounced. "I'd heard they were on the move again…and I wanted to stop them."

 

There was a lot more going on under the surface there than she was telling, or Tigress could discern, but what mattered most right now was that the cat seemed to be corroborating Tai Lung's story. But she only hardened her heart and gritted her teeth. _It means nothing. Those three strangers could be anyone. And even if it is the Wu Sisters, Tai Lung could have heard the same rumors yesterday, so had a name handy for his story today._

 

"And can you prove they were here?" Tigress demanded, her voice brittle.

 

"Well, _some_ one was," Mei Ling replied immediately, her tone confident but apparently uncomfortable with contradicting the leader of the Furious Five. "Just look at the mud there, by the lakeshore. It's been stirred and churned up by a battle…and just at a glance, I see a lot more than just leopard and panda tracks there. A lot more than just two people."

 

Tigress refused to look, to discover both that she might be wrong about Tai Lung and that she had failed so utterly to apply her training in reading the layout and progress of a battlefield. Instead she crossed her arms and did not move a muscle. "I see. But that still doesn't tell us who did it…or if they were fighting against Tai Lung, or in league with him."

 

Behind her she heard the snow leopard start to growl in fury, then the sound turned into a groan of despair. But Mei Ling shook her head and half-smiled, apologetically…already moving forward to the middle of the muddy expanse, where she knelt and crouched down, running a slender paw to trace out various marks as she spoke: a broad, deep paw print that could only belong to Tai Lung, a series of gouges like gigantic claw marks, a strange smeared patch that suggested a paw had come down hard and turned aside.

 

"No, it's pretty clear here. See, how the tracks are positioned? Whoever made them wasn't standing alongside Tai Lung, like an ally would be. She was facing him, attacking him…and here, these are the marks of a Wind and Fire Wheel, the Wu Sisters' favorite weapon. Buried pretty deep, I'd say, and only an inch or two shy of the leopard's foot. From the way he's standing, it looks like he pivoted at the waist, probably to bring a punch down at her—see how his right print is deeper than his left, because he was putting more weight on it? So…she twisted to avoid him." She shook her head. "They certainly weren't on friendly terms."

 

As Tigress stared at her in mounting resentment, anger…but also disbelief, as cracks began to form in the certainty of her position, everyone else was simply staring at Mei Ling in shock at her wealth of knowledge and expert analysis. Except Crane, who only looked proud; Shifu, who seemed vindicated; and Tai Lung, who looked as if he didn't know whether to give the mountain cat a kiss or a comradely punch to the shoulder. Mei Ling herself merely seemed embarrassed by all the attention.

 

"What I don't see," she finally added, "is much from the panda."

 

"That would be because he didn't participate much in the fight, I think." Tai Lung sounded uncertain, as well as annoyed with himself.

 

"You think?"

 

"I…wasn't watching him very much, I'm afraid." The snow leopard looked away, clenching his jaw.

 

Monkey snorted, then moved into the middle of the clearing as well as the gap in the conversation. "So, you either a killer, or a screw-up. Ain't your lucky day, is it, cat?" He turned to Mei Ling. "But what about Po? You sure Tai Lung didn't hurt him?"

 

The mountain cat flicked her eyes—which were a fairly lovely shade of brown, Tigress noted with distracted irrelevance—first to Crane, then to Shifu. Receiving a nod of encouragement from the bird, and only an expectant look from the panda, she rose and crossed over to where Mantis was still applying healing salve and a temporary skein of bandages to the Dragon Warrior's throat, as well as other wounds on his chest and stomach.

 

There, she paused again, glancing briefly at the insect for permission before peering at the injury, then sniffing at Po's body. "I don't think so, no. Not unless he's fond of using a garrote. And anyway, there's only one scent on his fur I can recognize…and it's Wu Xiu's." Again, there was that brief pause, as if she were about to say more, then thought better of it.

 

The despair and desperation were growing stronger inside Tigress's heart. Snarling softly, she made one last futile attempt to stave off what she was hearing. "No, it can't be. I know what I saw! You _do_ know who you're defending, don't you?" Her fists clenched.

 

"Yes." Mei Ling didn't exactly sound happy about it, but neither did she retract her version of events. "But what he did twenty years ago doesn't have anything to do with this. And while I don't know what you saw, and would never think of second-guessing you, Master Tigress, I do know what I'm seeing, and smelling. And it wasn't him. It was the Wu Sisters."

 

For several long moments, all was silent and still, as each of the Five took this in and realized the implications—for Tai Lung, and for what dangers this meant they would be facing in the future. Out of the corner of her eye, Tigress saw the snow leopard visibly relax and lean against a tree trunk, wiping his brow. He avoided looking at her, only gazing at Mei Ling in gratitude—and at Shifu, who had closed his eyes and given a tiny nod of acceptance, with a touch of wonder. Monkey wheeled away in fury, glaring off across the lake into the mist, while Viper rested her tail tip gently on Tai Lung's arm before crawling over to hover protectively over Po.

 

At last, the striped feline managed to find her voice to utter a final suspicious, somewhat nasty retort. "And just how do you know all this, anyway? How are you so well acquainted with the Wu Sisters—how they fight, what weapons they use, how they smell?"

 

Mei Ling looked up at her, expressionless and sober, then sighed. "Because I went to school with them…at the Li Dai Academy…"

 

"We both did," Crane admitted quietly, making Tigress turn and spear him with a shocked and slightly betrayed look. The avian would not look her in the eye, even as he fidgeted, squirmed, and generally acted like one confessing something he knew he really should not have kept secret.

 

"Also," the mountain cat said shakily, making Tigress look back at her sharply, "I'm afraid I wasn't quite truthful when I told you who I was. My full name…is Wu Mei Ling."

 

Everyone was silent. It was Mantis, looking up from tying off the last bandage, who stated the obvious. "Sisters?"

 

"Half." A very cold, murderous look appeared in her eyes, sending a chill down Tigress's spine—for she could indeed believe this woman was related to assassins. "And I still won't rest until I put a stop to them, and the dishonor they have brought to our family…once and for all."

                                                                       

* * *

 

After the snow leopard had washed his paws (and the rest of his muddy pelt) clean in the lake waters, the eight masters set off for Yunxian with their precious burden. It took them much longer to get back than it had to climb up into the hills, for even with Tigress carrying Po's feet, Tai Lung his head and shoulders, and Mei Ling and Monkey taking an arm apiece, they had to move very slowly so as not to jostle him too badly—Mantis had warned that the field dressing he'd applied was only a stopgap measure at best, and only if he could get access to the local doctor's supplies could he do a more satisfactory job at actually stitching the wound closed. And that knowledge would do no good if the bandages came off on the way. So extreme gentleness and care were the watchwords.

 

So it was almost sunset by the time they made it back to the village headman's house. As soon as the boar saw the condition the Dragon Warrior was in, he immediately sent for the physician, and it was with great relief the rest of the Furious Five, Tai Lung, and their master watched Po be taken into the aged white wolf's examining room, with Mantis along for the ride and asking the canine all manner of intelligent and pointed questions about what material he'd be using to thread his needle and which herbs he'd use to deaden the pain and slow the blood flow.

 

After that, however, an extremely awkward and uncomfortable silence fell over the group gathered on the doctor's front porch. Unsurprisingly, Tai Lung absented himself from the rest of them, standing at the far end of the veranda with his arms crossed severely over his chest…a muscle twitching spasmodically in his cheek even as he gazed through a window into the doctor's home. Tigress and Monkey refused to even look at him, the latter out of resentment and the former, Crane believed, because she was simply too damn stubborn to admit she'd been wrong and owed the snow leopard a major apology.

 

Viper, who at first attempted to reassure Tai Lung that she still accepted him and wished to be his friend, only received half-hearted replies and noncommittal grunts—not an outright rejection, but a clear sign he wished to be left alone for a while. Watching this, Shifu merely shook his head sadly and turned away to gaze across the town, eyes fixed on the distant mountain peaks. There was nothing to discuss; with as few words as possible, the various members of the pairs reported they had neither found nor seen anything on their searches before the sounds of battle had brought them to the lakeshore. Whoever or whatever had killed the goat, it seemed to have vanished into thin air.

 

So that left Crane alone with Mei Ling. Which, in all honesty, was how he liked it.

 

He still couldn't believe, even now, that she was back and standing right beside him. He hadn't seen her in, what, ten years? Fifteen? Not since they had graduated from Li Dai. He had traveled China for a year or two, righting wrongs, ending disputes, and making fair, just rulings—as well as wiping out bandit camps and other threats to peace and stability—until Master Shifu had summoned him to the Jade Palace to undergo further training and work in concert with four other masters of the most famous and respected kung fu styles.

 

And Mei Ling…the tales of her exploits had spread far and wide, some so incredible and difficult to swallow that many doubted their veracity despite their not being too different from the heroic feats of other long ago (and male) warriors. If she had not already made a name for herself and proven worthy of a master's title—and if she hadn't been notoriously difficult to track down in her whimsical, seemingly directionless path across China—Oogway had said more than once that he would have heartily welcomed her in the ranks of students at the Jade Palace, and Shifu had been similarly impressed.

 

But now, after all their years apart, she was back. And while she had somehow grown even more beautiful, and he'd had to learn all over again just how talented and amazing she truly was, in all other respects she was still the same. A little harder perhaps, less prone to laugh and more likely to distrust—whether strangers or the unknown—but otherwise the same sweet, charming, lively girl he had known when he was only a janitor.

 

How she had happened to be in Yunxian, seeking the Wu Sisters, and thus had been on hand to help exonerate Tai Lung and testify to what they were truly facing, was something he still could not fathom…other than to believe the gods were with them, and as Oogway had said, there truly were no accidents.

 

Of course…it made sense she would be here, if the three assassins were. Despite their many victims and terrible atrocities, if anyone had the right to hate the Wu Sisters with every fiber of their being, and to seek a personal vengeance against them, it was Mei Ling. And, Crane supposed, himself too—if one as calm and generous as he had any capability for hatred in his heart. Because what they had done to their half-sister had affected him as well…

 

Almost as if she'd read his mind, Tigress suddenly spoke up then—soft, somber, and unthreatening, even though she still sounded rather put out. "So…Mei Ling. Were you planning to tell us just why you hate your sisters so? Not that I blame you, but…what did they do to you?"

 

The mountain cat flinched, both at being spoken to so suddenly and because of the nature of the question. But after smoothing out her fur and clasping her paws in front of her nervously, Mei Ling shot the leader of the Five a pointed stare. "They killed our father."

 

Clearly that wasn't the answer Tigress, or anyone, was expecting; the striped feline, who had looked somewhat bored as well as distracted (surely worrying more about Po, and just making conversation) now stood up abruptly and fixed her golden ruby eyes on Mei Ling in disbelief. Viper and Monkey gasped, Shifu's eyebrows shot up, and even Tai Lung, at the far end of the porch, twisted about, an openly shocked look on his face. Crane of course didn't even blink, although his heart did feel very heavy all of a sudden.

 

"But why?" Viper finally managed to ask. "Did they hate him that much? Or you?"

 

"It's…complicated." Mei Ling managed a wry smirk, as if she knew just how cliché, or at least common, that had sounded. Then she sighed. "As you can tell, we had different mothers…mine was a mountain cat, theirs was a snow leopardess. Father was…a good man, a snow leopard too, but when he was young he liked to dally on the dark side a bit."

 

For a moment all eyes turned to Tai Lung, who rolled his eyes and then crossed his arms again, growling under his breath about always being a target.

 

"The Wu Sisters' mother…Wu Qing. She liked to pretend she was doing it for the good of the oppressed people in Tibet, but that's just a load of bull. As far as I know, Emperor Chen's been nothing but fair to the snow leopards—if anyone's been causing trouble, it's the generals. The truth is," and Mei Ling unobtrusively clenched a fist at her side, "she's an assassin through and through, and always has been. From a long line of them I gather, going back several dynasties."

 

Her voice dropped to a mutter. "Sometimes I think they inbred, to try and make the perfect killer, and it made the whole line crazy…anyway, Father was in his rebellious stage, he liked the idea of living dangerously and trying out things his parents disapproved of—but even then he wouldn't countenance the sort of things Wu Qing was doing. So…he left her. Not long after that, he met my mother Xu Mei, fell in love…and the rest is history. He didn't know at first that his fling with Wu Qing had produced any children, let alone triplets. But she made sure he knew soon enough."

 

Sighing, she turned away and stared out into the gathering dusk, rubbing her paw over the back of her neck. "He and Wu Qing were never married, and he always dutifully sent money for the sisters' upkeep…but apparently that wasn't good enough for them."

 

Monkey made a disgusted face and stared at the floor. "So…they killed their father. Just like that? And for something so stupid?"

 

From the far end of the porch, Tai Lung's harsh voice floated to the rest of them, and as he stepped forward into the light spilling in from the doctor's office, Crane could see his face was surprisingly ashen under the fur. "Stupid is a bit of an understatement, Master Monkey. 'Sick' is what I'd call it."

 

"You one to talk!" Monkey snapped, getting up in the snow leopard's face. "Or did you forget you almost do the same thing?"

 

"The key word there is 'almost', monkey brains!" Tai Lung held a fist in the simian's face. "And I had better reasons than something as stupid as sibling rivalry."

 

"Enough!" Shifu intervened, before it could dissolve into a free-for-all or anyone could take sides and start egging them on. "I know we are all worried about Master Po, but that is no excuse to lose our tempers. If you two cannot be civil to one another, then I want to hear no more words out of either of you."

 

After several long moments, when the two males had lapsed into only barely audible grumbling, and it was clear Mei Ling was either lost in her own thoughts or had no intention of explaining further, Crane took up the tale. "I met them at Li Dai, the same year I first passed the instructor's test and became a member of his next class. It's a good thing I got in first, and had Mei Ling to help me…they were complete naturals at kung fu, and would have beat me out otherwise."

 

He shook his head at the memories…even now, knowing who they were and what they had become, he still couldn't help admiring their skill and grace. "But in the end, they were kicked out of Li Dai, and I was able to nab the number-two spot in my class."

 

"What did they do to earn that?" Tigress rather looked and sounded as if she didn't want to know the answer.

 

Crane pressed his bill shut for a few moments, then finally said, "Did you ever hear about the last Hun invasion? The one when so many of our soldiers started dying mysteriously?"

 

The striped feline looked blank; at the time she would have been a very small cub, if alive at all. But everyone else except Viper, who was even younger than Tigress, looked sharply at the avian. "That was _them_?" Tai Lung exclaimed, his voice rough with ferocity and hatred. "I can't believe—no, now that I think about it, I can. But…damn. If I'd known that, I never would have—" He broke off as he spied the odd look Shifu was giving him.

 

Monkey shook his head too, glowering knowingly, but Viper and Tigress were still looking for answers, so Crane forced himself to continue. "Yes. The Wu Sisters, it turned out, were double agents for the Huns. Like everyone else at Li Dai, they were acting as nurses for the wounded soldiers who were brought from the front lines to be healed. But a surprising number of their patients returned to battle, only to succumb to strange symptoms—stomach poisoning, odd illnesses contracted from unwashed paws, or so everyone thought.

 

"There were others who refused to go back at all, saying they were afraid they'd get hurt again and end up in the sisters' care—and they'd do anything to avoid that fate, even desert the army or betray us. And then patients started dying right there in the academy."

 

Viper looked angrier than Crane ever recalled seeing her. "And then what happened?"

 

"What do you think?" Mei Ling said wearily. "My master, our instructor, did some investigating, finally caught them at it when they were putting apple seeds and deadly nightshade in the soldiers' food and water. And to cover up their crime, they killed him before fleeing Li Dai in the night."

 

Shifu nodded slowly, as if finally having confirmed for himself something he had always suspected but never proven. "So began their lives of crime and immorality."

 

"And now they've come back," Tigress added grimly. "But why?"

 

All eyes turned to Tai Lung, the only one among them who'd had a chance to speak with the assassins, but either he was lost in his own vengeful thoughts or he'd decided, after being so readily blamed for something he didn't do, that he would not confide anything in them without a very good reason. Crane sighed; hopefully, if the Wu Sisters had told him anything incriminating, or which could be used to ferret out their intentions, he'd do so later in private with Shifu, or perhaps Crane himself.

 

"Whatever the reason," Mei Ling said at last with an air of finality, "I won't rest until they're stopped. They killed our father, they betrayed kung fu and everything we were taught when they killed those soldiers and our teacher, and they've done even worse things since. For nothing better than money and profit. To prove they could, or for the sheer thrill of it. Because they enjoy death."

 

Again, a bleakness and flat cruelty entered her eyes, something he had never seen in them before, something that both worried and saddened him even as he understood why it was there. "So death is what I'll bring them.

 

"Of course, I'll help you all out in the process," she hastened to add, her voice and expression turning to their usual caring, even a bright eagerness. "I mean, they tried to kill the _Dragon Warrior_! And I'm sure they'll be after the Five next, maybe even Tai Lung."

 

Monkey and Tigress snorted in unison at that last suggestion, clearly not caring if such a thing were to come to pass, but the snow leopard in question finally uncrossed his arms and stepped close, looming over Mei Ling so that the lamplight cutting through the shadows made him seem even more ominous. But she didn't back away, and he only reached out to take her small paw in his massive one.

 

"Well, they're not going to find me so easy to defeat next time around," he growled softly. "And after what they've done, I'll be happy to help you deal out their punishment, Miss Ling."

 

The mountain cat smiled in genuine appreciation, even if she did look a little nervous still in his presence. "Please, just call me Mei. And with you at our side, how can we possibly lose?" She winked.

 

This time, Crane joined Monkey and Tigress in glaring at the snow leopard—not because he was disgusted with Tai Lung's offer of assistance or the readiness with which the mountain cat was accepting him as a comrade, but because he felt the ex-convict was getting a little too friendly…unacceptably so…with Mei Ling.

 

But before a new round of arguing could begin, the door into the doctor's office opened and the physician himself appeared, wiping his paws with a damp cloth while Mantis perched watchfully on his shoulder.

 

Immediately everyone turned their attention to the wolf, with Tigress in the forefront but followed closely by both Tai Lung and Shifu. "Well?" the striped feline demanded. "How is he?"

 

"It was touch and go there for a while," the canine admitted in his soft, creaky wheeze. "But with Master Mantis helping me, I think your friend will pull through. All that thick fur, and the, er, padding on his neck may well have saved him. Still, if he hadn't had the blood staunched right on the scene, or if you'd taken any longer in getting him here, he probably wouldn't have made it. But with time, bed rest, and the right herbs, he should recover with just a pretty nasty scar."

 

More than one of the kung fu masters let out sighs of relief or murmurs of gratitude, but Tai Lung's was the most explosive of all. As Crane gazed up into the snow leopard's face, he knew then that even if he hadn't already been predisposed to believe Tai Lung thanks to what he'd heard in the marketplace, he would have as soon as he saw that look. Even though it seemed impossible to accept, the snow leopard had clearly come to care for Po…and after seeing that look of genuine, teary-eyed relief on the ex-convict's face, there was no possible way the bird could believe the feline had hurt the Dragon Warrior…

                                                                       

* * *

 

With nothing more to do that evening now that Po was out of the worst danger, the Five, Shifu, and Tai Lung, as well as their new companion, could only retire to the inn for the night and plan for their return to the Valley of Peace the next day. Since no evidence of who had killed the goat could be found, and even Mei Ling had no idea who was behind it—she'd arrived in Yunxian just that morning and had encountered no one suspicious or strange on the road—their only recourse was to head for home, which after all was a better place for Po to recover.

 

While it was unlikely the Wu Sisters had lingered in the area, Shifu did not wish to take any chances—a mindset Crane agreed with effusively—and since it seemed their unknown killer was on a generally direct course for the Valley, the sooner they got back to the Jade Palace, the sooner they could protect the people of the village, as well as hopefully catch the murderer and see him brought to justice. That was really the only option, and it would have to do to placate the village headman.

 

At least, if the killer continued on his same course, he would soon be out of this region…not that that was a very comforting thought to Crane, considering where he was headed next.

 

So it was that the next morning, the group bid farewell to the headman and the throngs of people before setting off once more for the south. This time they carried Po on a specially built litter which both made him easier to transport and would jostle him less vigorously…but his weight was still unwieldy enough that it slowed them down considerably, and the fact his bearers had to stop to rest and rehydrate even as others took their turns supporting him slowed them down even more. It would clearly take more than the three days they had spent coming there.

 

There was certainly plenty to occupy them during the journey, though, and not just rampant speculation over the killer's identity and motives or why the Wu Sisters should be targeting the Dragon Warrior—who, despite being the greatest kung fu fighter in China and a force for unshakable peace, did not exactly seem a direct threat to assassins. A great deal of what drew everyone's attention seemed to center around Mei Ling, unsurprisingly.

 

Completely aside from everyone's curiosity about her capabilities as a warrior and how well she knew Crane, Tai Lung in particular seemed fascinated by her—and not only because she had helped save him from imprisonment or worse at the claws of Tigress. Because during one of the mountain cat's frequent bouts of shy and modest accounts of her kung fu knowledge, Mei Ling mentioned, offhandedly, that she had mastered all one thousand scrolls the same as the snow leopard had—although of course at a much later age, with the last having been mastered about three years ago.

 

Even so, to know that another had performed the same feat—let alone a woman—seemed to stun Tai Lung, but while Crane expected him to react with hatred, resentment, or at least jealousy (and so prepared himself grimly to defend Mei Ling's virtue and life if it came down to it), the ex-convict instead seemed to become even more respectful and honor bound toward Mei Ling—for one thing, while he was apparently incapable of calling her Mei, he now replaced his earlier title for her with 'Master' on a regular basis, and his suggestion that the two of them spar sometime was made with a gleam of mischief and excitement, not arrogance or superiority.

 

No, instead it was Tigress who seemed to be consumed by petty envy, distrust, and a sarcastic attitude that was quite uncalled for. Crane wasn't sure if the striped feline simply resented the fact that a female kung fu warrior had equaled Tai Lung's feat and it hadn't been herself, or if she were angry that Mei Ling, like the bull Zhuang, seemed willing to forgive the snow leopard for his terrible rampage and treat him as a brother-in-arms.

 

The one thing he was fairly certain was _not_ responsible for it was actual jealousy that Mei Ling was catching Tai Lung's eye and not Tigress. Because while the bird hadn't witnessed the entirety of the striped feline's diatribe against the ex-convict, he'd seen enough of it to know there was no possible way Tigress could have any designs on Tai Lung, that kiss during the Truth or Dare game notwithstanding. Which was a good thing…since from what he knew of Tigress, such a spate of romance-inspired jealousy would have resulted in a very deadly conflict between the two women, and no matter who won someone very important to Crane would suffer.

 

Of course if Tai Lung truly did try anything with Mei Ling, Crane would have to make sure he was parted from that beautiful pelt of his. Even if he would otherwise regret it.

 

Still, he could understand, objectively, why Mei Ling would find Tai Lung fascinating—that story of the WuShon fire demons they'd heard in Yunxian had impressed and stunned Crane more than he would have thought possible, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Tigress herself had been amazed by it, though she wouldn't admit it even on her deathbed, or if the snow leopard was on his. What it had made the bird realize, as he pondered the implications of it more and compared it to his own experiences with Tai Lung (in other words, their sole combat at the Thread of Hope), was that despite his reputation as a mindless, feral killer, the spotted feline was actually one of the most intelligent, clever, and sophisticated kung fu fighters he'd ever met. The sort of thing which would draw Mei Ling's attention too.

 

It made him feel guilty all over again for having enjoyed, even briefly, the mocking imitation of Tai Lung that Mantis had compelled of Po. And it reminded him that there was much more to the snow leopard than met the eye…that not only had Crane not personally witnessed the rampage of twenty years ago, but that everything he knew of the ex-convict was rumor, hearsay, secondhand tales not witnessed with his own eyes. None of them knew what Tai Lung had been truly like when young, save Shifu, nor had any of them seen him at his worst. So no matter how predisposed to hate or reject him Tigress and Monkey might be, Crane could not bring himself to do the same—not without better evidence and justification, anyway.

 

Not that he couldn't understand, by the same token, why the leader of the Furious Five would continue to harbor resentful thoughts against Tai Lung. Aside from everything else—the humiliating defeat at the Thread of Hope, his having stolen her birthright from Shifu, his overall arrogance and short temper, and (Crane sometimes suspected) the likelihood that he might be the reason she was an orphan in the first place—it must have rankled her more than anything in recent memory to have to admit she was wrong about him. For finally, two days after departing Yunxian, Tigress had grudgingly, as if having her fangs pulled, apologized to Tai Lung for her unfair accusation.

 

Unsurprisingly—and Crane hadn't blamed him in the slightest—the snow leopard had only glared venomously at her, curled his lip in contempt, and sarcastically noted that he was sorry too: 'sorry you weren't bright enough to notice all the signs of battle without having Mei Ling to rub your muzzle in it!' Which of course had started a new round of arguing and namecalling between Tai Lung, Tigress, and Monkey which Shifu had to put a stop to by forcibly parting the three quarreling masters.

 

It also hadn't helped, Crane sighed to himself, that Tigress, who ever since the discovery at the lakeshore had become far more protective and solicitous of Po than he'd ever seen her, now had to compete with the snow leopard she so clearly despised. Because when he wasn't launching into another volley of insults, or hovering at Mei Ling's side questioning her about her kung fu prowess and her personal knowledge of the Wu Sisters, the spotted feline was continually watching over the panda's unconscious body with a devotion that was both endearing and had to be seen to be believed.

 

In fact any number of times on their way southward, Tai Lung carried the litter all by himself on his broad back, taking over other bearers' shifts without protest and waving away any who tried to assist or insist it was their turn. Whether this was a form of private penance to make up for allowing the sisters to nearly kill him, or if it had a deeper meaning, Crane marveled at it all the same.

 

And again, even if this rubbed Tigress the wrong way (for she was the one who usually disputed whose turn it was to carry Po the loudest and most vociferously), at least when Tai Lung was carrying the Dragon Warrior it gave Crane more time with Mei Ling. Not that there were so many stories of her years of travel which he absolutely had to hear…he just needed to be with her, to get used to her presence at his side again…to simply enjoy how it felt to be near her and listen to her voice and laughter.

 

He hadn't realized, until now, just how much he'd missed her. And her return had also driven in the undeniable point that his caring for her, which had always been a bit more intense than was likely prudent, had now become deeper and more meaningful than he had ever expected. He had an inkling what this meant…and he also knew such a relationship was not wise, and could never be.

 

That didn't stop him from secretly entertaining the notion, though. It was just a fantasy, that was all…but it was certainly a nice one to indulge in, particularly compared to the lonely life at the Jade Palace that was his guaranteed alternative.

 

Five days later, the group finally arrived back at the Valley of Peace—with almost all of the daylight hours of one of those days spent maneuvering Po's litter across the Thread of Hope. Needless to say, while the addition of Mei Ling to their number did draw some attention and amazement, most of the citizens were deeply concerned with the condition of the Dragon Warrior.

 

Shifu thought it best that the Wu Sisters' names be kept out of it for now, and Crane had to agree—though he knew that the lack of information would cause the usual gossips to fill in false rumor in its place. Instead, the local doctor was summoned to the Jade Palace to consult with Mantis on the panda's continued treatment, something which reassured everyone, even Tigress and Tai Lung.

 

As night fell on the valley, something else brought a great sense of relief and joy to the kung fu warriors and their master—for as medicinal herbs were being stewed and mixed on a small brazier in the bunkhouse hallway (so that it could be tended by whichever of the Five happened to be free), the panda, who had stirred fitfully at various points during the journey, finally awoke. When he did, he'd already been arranged on his own bed, and everyone had gathered around him in concern, so that when he cracked open his green eyes, a ring of expectant faces was the first thing he saw.

 

"Whoa, whoa," he rasped, his voice made much rougher and deeper by his injury. "What gives, guys? Did I miss the morning bell again?"

 

Quite a number of the masters laughed at this, although Shifu rolled his eyes and Tai Lung actually managed a genuine, fairly warm smile. But it was Mei Ling who took it upon herself to greet him. "Well hey there, welcome back to the land of the living, Dragon Warrior."

 

Po blinked at the mountain cat in confusion for a few moments, then wiggled his fingers shyly. "Uh…who are you, ma'am? Though I gotta say…if I had someone as pretty as you t' wake up to every morning, I'd be a lot easier t' get up."

 

Mei Ling laughed, low and throaty, then grinned at Crane. "He's a real charmer, this one. Can I keep him?" For a moment the bird felt a brief flare of jealousy, quickly squashed.

 

"Well, _we_ rather like him." Viper smiled fondly.

 

After introductions were made, Po did his best to sit up, aided by Tai Lung and a mound of pillows. Then, as he looked around and blinked blearily in the twilit shadows of his room, he finally asked, "H-how did I get here? Last thing I remember, I was fightin'…"

 

Even though Mei Ling had made it clear in no uncertain terms just who was responsible for Po's brush with death, Tigress leaned forward intently, her voice low and hushed. "We found you with your throat cut, Po. With Tai Lung leaning over you, his paws covered in your blood."

 

For a moment the panda stared at her in shock; then he let out a strangled gasp and tried to sit up the rest of the way, scrambling around in the bedclothes and flailing wildly. "No no no! It wasn't Tai, ya gotta believe me! It was the Wu Sisters, I'd stake my life on it, I'll swear to it in front of th' magistrate—"

 

"Panda!" Shifu cut in warningly. "Focus, focus."

 

"B-but Master Shifu—"

 

"We already know that it was not Tai Lung who did this to you," the master of the Jade Palace said firmly.

 

For a long moment the room was silent, save for Tigress's grumbling, while the Dragon Warrior worked his mouth soundlessly. Then, looking both embarrassed and relieved, Po said, "Oh! Well...well, that's good. Glad we had this talk! 'Cause, otherwise I would've had t' roll some heads, an' pound th' truth into ya, an' other…Dragon Warrior…stuff. Yeah."

 

Someone—Crane thought it was Viper—was trying very hard not to laugh, and Mei Ling was grinning even more openly than before if that was possible. But Tai Lung only shook his head ruefully before gently patting the panda on the shoulder. "Remind me to teach you what a Dragon Warrior can really do, as soon as you're better, panda."

 

For a moment everyone looked at him with blank, startled stares—not only was he being more accepting of and friendly toward Po, the ex-convict was actually offering to teach him kung fu? _Maybe the sisters hit Tai Lung harder than we knew._

 

Coughing discreetly, Crane stepped forward at last. "You might actually want to take him up on that offer, Po. Unless you really think you can take the sisters again, if you meet them."

 

"Wait—what? The Wu Sisters are coming here, to the Valley?" The panda looked mildly panicked.

 

"Probably…more than likely…yes." The good humor had vanished from Tai Lung, leaving his voice and face bleak and severe as ever. Again, Crane had the feeling there was something about the three assassins he wasn't telling them. He had no idea what that might be, other than to know it had nothing to do with Po being injured. Some sort of private shame related to the combat, perhaps? Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn't something that would endanger them all later on.

 

As the Dragon Warrior leaned back heavily against the wall behind his bed and slapped a paw to his forehead, only to shakily run it down his face, Mantis and the doctor, a rather wrinkle-faced dog, proceeded to explain to him exactly what had happened and how they had saved him. For a brief moment the panda's expression cleared, and as he ran his paw down to his throat to feel tentatively at the mass of bandages encircling it, he actually managed a lopsided grin.

 

"So…this is gonna be my first kung fu scar, huh? …Cool!"

 

Tigress grimaced. "No, panda, it is _not_ cool! You nearly died."

 

"Well…it could be." Po twisted his fingers around each other awkwardly, offering a hopeful smile.

 

It wasn't reciprocated. In fact the leader of the Five seemed to become even angrier and more frustrated. "Damnit, Po! Can't you be serious for once in your life? I thought you understood that this wasn't a game. Real people, with real lives, are in danger here. And you're still acting like a cub! When will you _ever_ grow up?"

 

Everyone was staring at Tigress in shock and disbelief; not because they didn't agree with her on some level, but because they never expected such vehemence from the striped feline. Crane glanced askance at her, noticing her heaving chest, clenching paws, and gritted teeth…and adding that to the intensity of her gaze, came to the right conclusion. _Well what do you know…I guess she's thawed after all. Enough to make a friend, anyway._

 

Po, meanwhile, was more stunned than anyone else—stunned, and distressed. First his lower lip, then his whole chin, started to tremble, and tears welled up in his luminous eyes. But before they could trickle down his cheeks, he swallowed hard, hurriedly wiped them away, and then adopted the most serious and brave expression Crane had ever seen on him. "All…all right, Master Tigress. I'm sorry, I'm listenin'. I'll try an' be more like you."

 

Even as Viper and Monkey exchanged a worried look at the prospect of Po modeling himself after their volatile leader, Tigress herself intervened. "No, not like me, panda. You still need to be yourself. It was you who defeated Tai Lung, not me." Amazingly, her voice remained rock-steady as she admitted this.

 

"You just need to find your center, and develop your skills to be a little more by-the-book. Being unpredictable and spontaneous is all well and good…but there comes a time when you have to know how to do it the old-fashioned way, whether through mastering as many of the scrolls as you can, or just knowing the basics. I bet when you fought the sisters, you approached them the same way you did Tai Lung, didn't you?"

 

The Dragon Warrior squirmed and looked away, ashamed, leaving Tai Lung to answer for him, dryly. "His best moves involved hurling apples at the ladies."

 

"Hurling—" Tigress broke off, pressing her mouth shut, most likely before she said something she'd regret. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know what, forget I said anything. You obviously need more training, period. Your 'panda style' may work when your opponent is inflamed with rage or focused only on one goal to the exclusion of all else. But it's not going to work with the sisters."

 

"Well, duh!" Po retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "You think I don't know that? And it ain't like I've been taught how t' use weapons, or t' fight more'n one guy at a time. Master Shifu was gettin' me ready t' face Tai Lung, not a whole army."

 

"He has a point, Tigress," Viper put in.

 

Tigress sighed, apparently calming herself by sheer force of will. "Fair enough. But as soon as you're well enough, Po, you have to get more training right away. Preferably from me, and not…someone else." Even though she didn't look at Tai Lung, the snow leopard glared at her backside. Crane sighed again.

 

"Yes, ma'am," the panda said instantly, contritely, and everyone laughed.

 

After their mirth had died down, though, Po glanced worriedly at Shifu, who had drifted away from the bed toward the window and was gazing outside, into the mists wreathing the mountain as night descended on the land. "So, uh…what about the guy that killed that poor farmer? Did anyone find anythin'?"

 

"No," the red panda replied quietly, and Crane peered at him in concern himself. He had never heard Shifu so out of sorts, not even when it had seemed the Dragon Scroll was a worthless sheet of blank parchment and there would be no one to stop the snow leopard from beginning his rampage right where he left off. Then, at least, their master had had a plan in mind, had known what he had to do even if it had cost him his life. Now, he seemed at a total loss.

 

"Whoever it is," Shifu continued at last, "judging by his pattern in taking victims, he is on his way to the Valley too. Whether this monster has any connection to the Wu Sisters, I cannot begin to imagine. But I do know one thing: if we are not already, we shall soon be under siege. And I don't know yet how we can lift it."

 

His voice trailed off into silence, his sloped back remained turned to them—not in dismissal, but in enforced solitude…and none of them could possibly say anything to refute him, only standing there motionless and quiet as the shadows gathered around the peak.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Under a cold blue mountain sky, one so pale and washed out that it might as well have been a mere reflection of the endless vista of drifting snow stretching below it for leagues in every direction, in a place where the wind whined and moaned constantly like an otherworldly spirit shrieking its defiance and hatred of the living until even the deafest and least sensitive heart could sense it, a place where any who were not naturally designed to withstand the harshest of winters would soon freeze to death…Wu Xiu and her sisters waited.

 

Around them, also extending for countless miles until even their sharp feline eyes could no longer detect more than vague blurs on the horizon, the mountains and cliffs of this desolate region—a frigid desert spanning the boundary between Sha'anxi and Inner Mongolia, right at the edge of the Huangtu Plateau—rose high above them.

 

Warped, eroded, and weirdly twisted by the howling winds as well as, possibly, shaped by the hands of man, the sandstone monoliths loomed with frowning, snarling faces of lions and boars, mouths agape and fangs bared—whether in vicious hatred or mere frowning warning, each more unusual and distressing than the last. Each rose from the shifting, swirling mounds of snow, some rising proud and tall above the stark whiteness like grim sentinels, others nearly buried in the drifts until their features could barely be seen.

 

Yet there was one area which, oddly enough, was scoured clean of snow, as if it were somehow swept regularly by unseen paws—a broad, flat disk in the exact center of the largest ring of rock formations. Carved and etched into the stone, so deeply graven it must have been there for centuries, was a massive, eight-pointed star surrounding the symbol of the Yin-Yang, and beyond that a ring in which worn characters were inscribed—Xiu couldn't identify them offhand, and didn't really care.

 

 

What mattered was, such sacred markings seemed incapable of being concealed or buried by the elements, as if a mystical barrier warded the snow away. Whatever the reason or cause for this, the locale had always seemed to the sisters to be some form of ancient kung fu training ground. It was certainly how they had treated it, and what they had used it for themselves, after they fled the Li Dai Academy to begin their new lives as assassins. Although the sisters remained as fickle and elusive as the wind and rarely settled in one place for long, this lonely desert with its strange peaks and barren flats had always seemed like the closest place they'd had to a true home.

 

 

And it was also here where they had first encountered their…patron of the moment.

 

She remembered it well, even though it was just over fifteen years ago when it had taken place. How could she forget it? It had been on a night even colder and windier than this day, when they had been gathered about their meager campfire counting their most recent ill-gotten gains (for even ones with their thick fur were in need of extra heat in the depths of mountain night). As the coins clinked between her fingers, she had been in the midst of a gloating recitation of the gruesome killing they had just orchestrated when the ominous shadows draping the plateau had suddenly…gathered together to form a physical shape.

 

Even then, it had seemed more spirit than man, a piece of darkness come to vague life, a demonic creature crossing the boundary between worlds to slake an unquenchable thirst for blood, sate a ravenous hunger for souls. It had been more vile and wicked than anything she had ever run across, before or since, something so deplorable, sickening, and simply _wrong_ that it would give Attila nightmares. Jia had been utterly terrified of it, Chun uneasy although otherwise regarding it with her typical unflappable calm.

 

Xiu had loved it.

 

It had given her a delicious thrill the moment she set eyes on it, flooded her with sensations she could not put a name to but wished to experience again and again—sensations she would forever after pursue through increasingly cruel, rapacious killings in a vain attempt to recapture them, bathe in them, soak in their irresistible ecstasy. It had been intense, indescribable, it had drawn her in until she flushed with the insatiable nature of its evil. This was something she could only aspire to…but she would not rest until she had succeeded, until she could channel such darkness…until she was worthy of being its consort.

 

Not that she would literally couple with their benefactor, never mind how undeniably masculine and potent he had always seemed—that sort of thing was more Jia's stock in trade. If she were to entertain the notion as more than a mere passing fancy, it would only be to partake of his essence, to acquire from him the same phenomenal _chi_ he possessed so that she could wield it with as much skill and deftness as he…and even then, she would certainly never consider herself his. Two allies working together for mutual advantage, a fellow dealer in death from whom she could abscond with ultimate power, or perhaps a protégé and student being groomed for still greater things. But never a servant, never one he had claimed and demoted.

 

That very night he had first made them the offers which determined they would not only have a lifelong association, but made the deal ironclad. Of course none of them had taken it at face value, Xiu least of all—she knew his promises were as empty and vaporous as his form, that there was not a shred of proof that he could grant what he dangled before them…or that he would follow through on it even if he could. It would be fitting of his twisted nature to lie about such terrible abilities, even more so to speak the absolute truth but have no intention of passing them on—only using them to procure the sisters' services, leading them on for years before finally hanging them out to dry. It was what she'd do, in his place.

 

But if there was even the _possibility_ his words might be true, or that he would keep his word…she had to take it. Jia could pine for the pathetically wasteful desire for eternal youth, and Chun could yearn for a single kung fu move that would chill the blood of any opponent on the battlefield—even seasoned masters like Shifu. But Xiu _would_ have what she sought, one way or another. Because in the end, it would give her the same power as her sisters, and more— _chi_ manipulation could render her agelessly beautiful should she wish such a thing, and she would be capable of dealing death by the scores without even a twitch of her eyelid. And because she would never rest until she had what she wanted…

 

Her thoughts were interrupted as, as if in re-enactment of the memory she had just recalled, the same black-cloaked figure suddenly appeared on the plain before them, in the exact center of the Yin-Yang. At once she realized that what he had told them at the Bandit Inn, and which had not been readily apparent there in the flickering torchlight, was true.

 

Where before he had always seemed ephemeral and ghostly, nothing more than a dark silhouette, now he was incredibly solid and real. That he had been restrained before, perhaps even held prisoner in some way, was undeniable; that he had since found a way to break his chains was also undeniable. His greater presence, of course, discommoded Chun and upset Jia even more, though both were too professional (and too steeped in blood and darkness) to show it. And it only made Xiu desire what he could give her all the more.

 

"Ever punctual, ever obedient," he observed with a wryness as well as an undertone of pleasure in his voice. "Excellent. Well met again, sisters."

 

Bristling inwardly at his assumption, but concealing it behind her cold expression and the folds of her cloak, Wu Xiu bowed to him, but no more than one would to a village magistrate or an elder of the family—certainly not with the sort of profound obeisance owed the Emperor, surely what he would most believe his due and portion. As she rose upright again—one paw clutching the hilt of her dagger at her waist in a traditional assassin's greeting—she purred, "And to you…Heian Chao."

 

The name seemed to echo off the monoliths with a dark susurration, at once satisfied and pregnant with meaning. She knew what it translated to, of course, and thus suspected it was a name the fellow had chosen for himself, one he felt truly captured his inner self and would earn him the fear and respect he craved; surely no parent would have named their child such a thing, not even if they were trying to fool the evil spirits—or if they had, it had obviously had the opposite effect as intended.

 

For if there was ever one who represented pure darkness and evil, it was Heian Chao; pretentious the name might be, but also apt, and if it pleased him to be known so, she would indulge him with its powerful weight until she received her just reward.

 

For several moments she was sure she had seen a glint of light from something within his hood, and knew she had felt a sardonic smirk directed her way. Then he spoke again, even as he remained perfectly still, like another of the ridged peaks. "How goes the day? What have you to report? Has all gone according to plan?"

 

Xiu hesitated—but she knew he would be able to detect a lie the instant it passed her lips. And somehow, she had the feeling that he already knew what had transpired to the south…and whether this were a test or not, he was not displeased. Not fully. "Yes and no. We encountered the Dragon Warrior, just where you told us he'd be. But he was not alone. Tai Lung was with him."

 

The cloak did not twitch, hanging absolutely still despite the wind which had once again begun to whistle through the crevices and heights of the pinnacles. "I see. Unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected. You followed my instructions—I do not even need to ask, for you would not have dared come here if you had disobeyed."

 

"Yes," Xiu said, her voice clipped and brittle. "We had to fight him, both as a distraction and because he might have killed us otherwise, but he was left unharmed."

 

"Though I doubt he thinks so," Chun added with a smirk. "Let's just say we gave a good accounting of ourselves." She stood straight and tall, refusing to clutch her side or stomach, which were still rather bruised.

 

"As always," Heian Chao allowed. "But your mission was, in the end, ultimately unsuccessful?"

 

Despite her buried fear, Jia managed to stick her chin out brazenly. "Oh, come on! Xiu garroted him, there's no way he could have lived through that!"

 

Wu Xiu narrowed her blue eyes, watching closely as their benefactor raised one hand to brush through the air in front of him, as if testing the currents of the wind. For a moment she thought she caught a glimpse of his hand within the shadows that draped it, thought she saw something other than fingers—and she knew she heard the rustle of feathers. But then it vanished into obscurity again, and she was only left observing as the figure somehow read the soul of the land and air, or perhaps their own memories, with his _chi_.

 

"No, I'm afraid he did," he said, almost regretfully, gravely. "The insect is a versatile and gifted healer, he was able to save the Dragon Warrior before his life's blood had emptied from his veins. You would have known this, had you lingered to be certain of your work—but of course, the Five and their master were fast approaching, and you had orders not to be seen. It is no matter. There will be other chances, other moments when you can finish what you began and truly end his life. What matters is the seeds have been planted."

 

Chun blinked her viridian eyes, then placed one fist on her hip. "What? I don't get it. Not that we wanted you to go all 'you have failed me' on us, but I thought you'd be angry. I thought you wanted him dead."

 

"Indeed I do." Heian Chao sounded inordinately pleased for a client whose premiere order had not been fulfilled. "But I did not expect you to succeed this time, or for many more attempts. Remember, this is the Dragon Warrior you are dealing with here."

 

Xiu snorted. "Well, to coin a phrase, I'm afraid he didn't live up to the hype. None of us were particularly impressed with his skills, were we, sisters?" They shook their heads in agreement, although Jia actually seemed more amused than disgusted with the panda's performance in combat.

 

"That is because you underestimate him," the cloaked _chi_ wizard (for so she thought of him) said. "The same mistake, I might add, that Tai Lung himself made. Do not judge a warrior by his size, appearance, or anything of the physical world. It is in the heart and soul where true power lies—for any fighter, but the Dragon Warrior most of all. Never forget this. You yourselves know that strength alone does not win a battle—it is how you employ it. Cleverness, intellect, wisdom…these are the keys to victory. For you, for me, and for this Po. And the Dragon Scroll allows him to use them to their greatest and most dangerous effect."

 

Green eyes narrowed as her middle sister regarded Heian Chao skeptically. "Are you sure we're talking about the same panda?"

 

But their employer waved her words aside dismissively as if they were clouds of pollen. "He was most likely holding back on you. Even if he was not…that same potential is always there within, and the day he truly realizes it is the day you will be unable to defeat him, and all my plans will utterly fail."

 

Jia's lip curled, matching her uncertain tone. "If you say so. So is that why you want him gone? Or do you want his power for yourself?"

 

Heian Chao scoffed openly, letting out a low, barking laugh enough like Tai Lung's that even Xiu was momentarily thrown for a loop. "I don't _need_ his power. I already have it—the only thing the Dragon Scroll grants is the courage of one's convictions, the ability to draw upon one's _chi_ to the fullest extent possible for a mortal, once one has come to believe in it beyond one's own life—so that no force of arms nor persuasive rhetoric can dislodge it."

 

By the sound of his voice, he was smiling, and a particularly confident example of the breed, too. "And I already have that belief…and mastery of _chi_ beyond what any kung fu master in the last thousand years could hope to achieve."

 

For a moment, Chun seemed shaken out of her complacency enough to be genuinely wary and even awed. "But…how can you know the power of the Dragon Scroll, or what it holds? I thought no one but the Dragon Warrior could—"

 

"Oogway was the one who wrote it," he explained, so softly the words were almost lost to the wind. "And I was there when it was written."

 

Xiu shivered abruptly, and not because of the rising wind and its increasingly bitter cold…for even she had never suspected their mutual 'master' could be quite that old, or that knowledgeable. Perhaps for the first time since they had met, she began to fear him…even as the revelation of his true power only made her keen to claim it all the more.

 

Finally, however, after all three of them had stared at him for so long, and stood with such stillness, that their limbs had become kinked and knotted, Wu Chun managed a lopsided smile as she propped one elbow on her closed fist, the other paw curled thoughtfully at her chin. "So…if all you have to do is believe in yourself to be so powerful, what do you even need us for? Why don't you just 'believe' you can slip into his room at night and slice him a new smile yourself?"

 

This actually produced a giggle from Jia, and Xiu could swear the temperature dropped by a few more degrees; if there was one thing she'd learned about Heian Chao during all their years working for him, he took himself very seriously and hated being mocked. She was certain of it when she heard the tone of annoyance creeping into his voice.

 

"Were you even listening to _anything_ I was saying, woman? The panda has the same power as I in that regard. Even if I could literally weave my own imaginings into reality merely by believing in them—and there _are_ limits to _chi_ —the Dragon Warrior could do so as well. Our abilities, at least in terms of their strength, would be evenly matched. I could conceivably prevail regardless, but the certainty of victory would no longer be mine."

 

He paused, then his voice became harsher still, as well as unusually sarcastic himself. "And lest you missed them, there would still be the Five and their master to contend with. I could be mistaken in this, but I rather doubt they would stand idly by while I defeated and slew their savior, now would they?"

 

"So we're here to whittle down their number and even the odds for you?" Despite the disdain dripping from her tone, Chun seemed much more mollified now, and Xiu had to agree; the fact Heian Chao believed them capable of defeating, even murdering, the Furious Five was quite the ego-boost. And of course, if what he said was true, having the belief they would win was half the battle right there.

 

"That, and much more besides, my dear." Seeming to relax back into his suggestively sly and darkly devious tone now that they were drifting back into safer territory (where he believed he retained superiority, Xiu thought snidely), the shadow mage raised his voice—demanding, insistent. "Now, _if_ I may return to my original point…since you did, if I recall correctly, wish to know more of my plans?"

 

Hearing that, Wu Xiu at once shushed the others, as she was indeed very interested. Once they were quiet, attentive, and respectful, Heian Chao nodded slowly. "The reason I am still pleased is that while the Dragon Warrior still lives, your attack had the intended effect—for a while, at least, the Five and their master will be suspicious of Tai Lung, distrustful, ready to believe the worst of him. And this is precisely what I intend to bring out, through my touch. Yet no matter how I apply my _chi_ to corrupt and ensnare him, it will do no good if he still retains a lifeline to goodness, morality, and hope. So long as he too believes in himself, believes he can have friends, family, love…"

 

The repugnant way those last three words were uttered spoke volumes on how worthless and limiting he found such things to be. "…he will be weak, and beyond my reach. But like the wisdom and ingenuity imbued in the scroll, all such things have their beginning and ending in the panda. Remove him from the equation, and there shall be nothing to tie Tai Lung to the light. He will despair of anyone ever accepting and forgiving him…weep at his doomed plight…give in to the fear that he will never amount to anything so long as he is denied the scroll. Fear will turn to hate, hatred to madness…and then he will be mine, then he shall have the only true, boundless strength.

 

"And with his _chi_ …I shall finally have the power to bring about the new order which all of China sorely needs. Then…then you will experience riches and fame beyond your wildest dreams…the chance to ply your trade as you see fit, without any to gainsay you. And of course, the gifts I have promised you."

 

Several minutes passed as each of the sisters contemplated what they had been told—still precious little compared to the details they would rather have—and decided what to make of it. While she could guess what Chun and Jia thought of it, Xiu at least found the whole plot rather delicious. To deprive Tai Lung of what little he still held dear…to strip him of the pathetic trappings of goodwill, trust, and honor, revealing to him the stark harshness of reality which he had deluded himself into forgetting…and then turning the resentment which would come from this into black-hearted vengeance and insane bloodlust once more.

 

It was not a far cry from what she had tempted him with, twenty years ago, when she had first played upon his insecurities and thus helped to flourish the same hate and rage which had in the end consumed him. It was as joyous a prospect now as it was then…for she knew that with each pillar and support they, and their master, would remove from him, the snow leopard would fall deeper into the darkness until nothing could bring him back from the brink. And that once he had tasted such sweetness, only to have it utterly denied him, he would become more malicious and destructive than ever before.

 

This time, his rampage would succeed in destroying the Valley of Peace. This time, the snow leopard would be hers…and at her side, he would leave such death in his wake, until all would cower in fear of their coming and would give anything to stay their paws.

 

Even as such heartless, grotesque thoughts coursed through her mind, her youngest sister ventured at last to ask a question. "So…where does the other one fit in? The one who's been slaughtering people from here to Xinjiang?"

 

"Him?" Heian Chao sounded amused. "He too has his part to play. And whether he lives or dies, succeeds or fails, it is the same part. Should he lure Tai Lung in for me, I will at last be able to preside over the final breaking of that warrior spirit…what I could not do while he languished in Chorh-Gom, since that accursed device locked his _chi_ and thus held it outside my influence. And should he instead die at Tai Lung's hands…as you know, such vengeance will be but the first step toward his ultimate degradation.

 

"Either way, he will be free of the shackles of his humanity…either way, he will serve me, as I have always known he would. The weak shall be strong, and all will at last bow before my might. And when they see what I have in store for my empire…well, the world will never be the same. It will be _better_."

 

Wu Xiu smiled, slow and sinister, licking her lips suggestively; there seemed to be no end to the number of ways in which she and her sisters could be useful to this new order, or she in particular could relish her newfound power and leave the mark she had always wished. "I like the way you think. Where do we sign up?"

 

The cloaked figure laughed appreciatively, then gestured toward Chun. "You already have. Each task I gave you will draw Tai Lung farther away from salvation, will teach him anew what I imparted to him long ago, in the silence of his soul. His will is strong, he will resist…but you are just as persistent. And I will mold him to be more pliable for you…with what you have brought me."

 

Gliding soundlessly forward across the parched, cracked stone, Heian Chao reached out and took from the inner pocket of Chun's cloak the fur she had yanked from Tai Lung's pelt during their battle. Holding it up to the light, he seemed to be inhaling its fragrance even though it was nowhere near his hood. Nevertheless, as he raised his head Xiu was certain she caught the briefest glimpse of something, of a sharp profile which resembled a beak—then gone within the shadows again.

 

"Perhaps you have heard of sympathetic magic?" Without waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question, he chuckled softly. "With this, I have another hold on his _chi_. I can wriggle beneath his pelt even from a distance…slowly shade his thoughts…darken his heart…tilt the balance toward the instability that made him so strong." Reflectively, he added, "Kung fu means 'excellence of self.' But what happens, I wonder…when your self is taken away…?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now you finally have some hints as to my villain's species, and a name to go with him. For anyone who's wondering, Heian Chao loosely translates to 'the Great Dark One'. A more direct translation would be 'one who is great and dark'. Obviously he has taken a page out of Voldemort's book in choosing a name for himself. Wu Qing, the mother of the Wu Sisters, has a name which means 'pitiless, merciless, ruthless', while Xu Mei, the mother of Mei Ling, is 'gentle' and 'beautiful'. You'll learn more about their shared father later...and about the villain. The training ground, by the way, is another lost place from _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_. It just seemed too fitting for what I had in mind.


	21. Reconciliations

 

 

Silent and still in the friendly darkness of the Hall of Warriors, Tai Lung looked up from the shimmer of golden light given off by the bank of candles which illuminated the altar before him…his paws still clasped in the proper kung fu manner, even though his prayer had ended, while he gazed raptly at the painting of Oogway on the wall and struggled with the decision he knew he had to make.

 

It was now five days since their return to the Valley of Peace. There had not, as yet, been any horrific killings like the one in Yunxian, nor had the Wu Sisters put in an appearance. In fact the time had passed like any other halcyon days of summer, the waking hours filled with gorgeous blue skies dotted with clouds and humid air that made any with thick fur drenched with sweat in record time, the nights balmy, cool, and dotted by both stars and fireflies.

 

But while the people of the village experienced this with genuine enjoyment, blissfully unaware of the looming danger which threatened, everyone in the Jade Palace was so on edge expecting the other shoe to drop that a single pin could have set them off in a frenzy of kung fu. While Shifu had seemed to descend into an ever deeper depression, Tigress had become the most fervent and determined of guardians of the temple. Now that she had at last accepted Mei Ling had spoken the truth, and the snow leopard assassins were the ones who had nearly taken Po's life, the leader of the Furious Five seemed to have taken it upon herself to organize ward posts and night watches lest the sisters come upon them unawares again.

 

And of course, she was the most impassioned and religiously conscientious of the sentries posted—although Tai Lung privately suspected she did this not only to protect the Dragon Warrior, but because she was sorely itching for the chance to take on Wu Xiu herself…whether out of vengeance or to prove she could defeat her when the ex-convict could not.

 

As for Tai Lung himself—he had spent almost the entirety of that time at Po's bedside.

 

It wasn't to further prove that he was innocent of the charges Tigress had laid against him, nor to protect Po from any subsequent danger should the Wu Sisters sneak in his bedroom window at night. It was because the snow leopard felt extremely guilty for allowing the panda to become injured in the first place. He had lost sight of it during his years in Chorh-Gom, and even before that when training with such intensity and obsession to claim the Dragon Scroll—but he had known once that becoming too narrowly focused was dangerous in a combat situation, not to mention unworthy of the kung fu he had been taught.

 

Paying attention to one's surroundings, observing everything so as to be prepared for any attack, being aware of what was available to become a weapon in one's defense—all of these things should have been second nature to him. But he had forgotten, tuned it out, given himself over to rage, arrogance, and pride for far too long. And now this blind spot, this major flaw, had nearly cost him the life of his only friend.

 

Admitting how he was coming to view Po was difficult of course, and he still could not do so aloud to anyone. But at the very least, he had never had the life of a companion, an ally, or a mentor be on the line or come so close to ending—he had not even had anyone that applied to save for Shifu, who had always seemed indestructible and rarely became involved in Tai Lung's battles. This was an entirely new, disconcerting, and unpleasant experience for the feline. He did not want to feel it again, although he had the ugly and worrisome sensation that he would, far too soon and far too often.

 

It was also, he realized to his chagrin, an unavoidable aspect of befriending others, of letting them into his heart and caring about something besides himself. Not that that made him wish to give up, to retreat back behind the armor he had clad himself in for decades and thus insulate himself against the pain. He had sworn he would not be alone again, and he would keep that oath—and he had never been one to back down from any challenge.

 

But it did make this much more problematic, and upsetting, than he had expected it to be.

 

Regardless, no matter how Tigress, Monkey, and most likely Shifu doubted him, Tai Lung was determined to make up for this nearly fatal mistake—to ground himself once more in the kung fu training he had forgotten or discarded, and thereby keep from losing the one person who truly cared for him in the Valley. Never mind it was the same panda who had so humiliated him…even such a fan was better than none at all, and although it rankled him to admit it, the snow leopard was beginning to see, finally, that there was something very special about the panda. Something neither the Valley…nor he…could do without.

 

Besides, even if none of this were true, he'd be damned if the Wu Sisters harmed someone in his charge…or thought they could get away with framing him for one of their crimes, intentionally or not. If he at any point somehow managed to forget why the snow leopardesses deserved his enmity, all he had to do was recall the incredible pain he'd heard in Viper's voice, when she had momentarily believed he had been the one to fatally injure Po...and the echoing pain in his own heart at hearing the sweet-natured serpent doubting him...and all the rage and desire for vengeance came flooding right back.

 

In any event, this had meant that for the last five days the snow leopard had been rigorously following the doctor's and Mantis's instructions to the letter so as to be a proper caregiver for the Dragon Warrior. Some of these had been relatively easy for his quick mind to pick up on—how to change the bandages and dress the wound, the proper dosage of herbs to mix for his medicines, how much water to provide him to help replace the blood he had lost (a process Mantis and the doctor in Yunxian had begun immediately and the rest of them had continued on the way back to the Valley), and so on. Others were secretly rather entertaining in a naughty way, such as the fact the anxious and energetic panda had been proscribed constant bed rest…something Tai Lung was only too happy to enforce rather firmly.

 

Unfortunately, the other major aspect of taking care of Po was preparing and bringing the panda his meals—and while the feline was not completely ignorant of such matters, it would be fair to say cooking was _not_ his strong suit, and his knowledge was still quite limited.

 

While he could make _very_ simple dishes, usually the sort of thing which could be whipped up during a spare moment or when traveling on the road with little in the way of options, anything more than this was quite beyond him. Shifu had, of course, not considered culinary skills, a womanly art, to be of critical importance to the Dragon-Warrior-to-be, something Tai Lung had hitherto heartily agreed with, so he had been taught only the rudiments in case he was caught away from civilization during a campaign and had to scrounge for food on his own. And meals at the Jade Palace had never been very fancy.

 

Now, however…thanks to the blood loss, the overall weakness he suffered from, and some of the ingredients in his daily tonic, Po's stomach was a little sensitive and required special handling. Which had left the snow leopard the unenviable task of trying to decipher carefully written recipes and then make concoctions he hoped would turn out passably well. It didn't help that he'd never known where anything was in the kitchen, and in twenty years the arrangement had likely changed anyway.

 

Finally, when Tai Lung had searched through every single cupboard before finding the eucalyptus leaves for the healing tea, spilled an entire bag of rice on the floor and had to painstakingly clean it up, and nearly burned himself after mistakenly using a metal ladle for the broth, Viper took pity on him and helped guide him through the proper procedure.

 

Shifu, naturally, had only stood back and watched his adopted son turn in place and tear his fur out with far too much amusement, only intervening when he'd noticed the exotic spice, something called chili powder, which the snow leopard had casually snuck into Po's food. (The feline had been prepared to brazen it out until the red panda had told him 'if you put anymore in that dish, I'm going to make you regret it.' 'How?' 'You're eating every last grain of rice, even if it kills you.')

 

The best part, of course, had been watching his guinea pig—er, patient—sample the finished product. Although nothing as ostentatious as flaming red cheeks or steam leaking from his ears took place, Po did cough and choke a little, and he didn't think it was just the injury that made the panda talk with a hoarse rasp for quite a while after that. Yet true to his usual resolute nature, the Dragon Warrior became accustomed to the snow leopard's 'inventive' cooking, and even feigned enjoyment of it—forcing a beaming grin onto his face, rubbing his belly in satisfaction, and praising its…unique combination of flavors.

 

Tai Lung didn't know whether to be disappointed or pleased, especially since he couldn't be sure Po wasn't telling the plain truth and simply had an iron stomach…but either way, he couldn't help feeling a little fonder of the panda for humoring him and weathering his little prank with such wry acceptance. It was yet another way his former enemy had of completely disarming him and showing him a side of life he'd never seen before, what a true friendship was all about.

 

Of course, if he'd had his way, Monkey would have made certain such interaction and learning had never happened. As it was, the simian did his best during those five days to either keep the two warriors from being left alone together for long, or he simply wished to annoy Tai Lung as much as possible—since his favorite activity was heckling the snow leopard for becoming Po's 'nursemaid.'

 

Mei Ling of all people was the one to intervene before the spotted feline could lash out at the langur, however; after declaring she thought the budding friendship to be 'beautiful', the mountain cat had visited Po's room every chance she got, both to get to know the impressionable, kind-hearted Dragon Warrior and to act as a barrier to Monkey's blandishments. After a few surprisingly vigorous attempts to get past Mei Ling, which were met with crossed arms, a seemingly casual blockage of the doorway, and a very pointed, cool look, the primate fled…and Tai Lung could only grin at her admiringly and thank her, with genuine pleasure, for her timely assistance.

 

Unfortunately, Crane seemed almost as determined at times to drag Mei Ling off for sparring practice in the kwoon or to reminisce about their days at Li Dai and the legends she had incited in the years since graduation. But even if she had been able to stay in Po's room around the clock, Tai Lung could not have withstood such a thing. Completely aside from the panda being someone it was best to take in small doses, there was the plain fact that the snow leopard had never liked being cooped up in one place even before being imprisoned and immobilized for twenty years—if he were unable to go elsewhere and have time to himself for his own thoughts, he'd go stir-crazy. And foremost among those thoughts was the reason he now stood before Oogway's shrine in the Hall of Warriors.

 

Because aside from Po's slow but sure recovery making it less critical to watch over him so closely, the time of his healing had been sufficient for the full moon to at last approach once more. This night was the first evening its shimmering white rays would shine down from the heavens…which meant it was time for him to take the severed halves of the old turtle's staff to the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom, to keep his promise. If he could bring himself to do so.

 

He sighed heavily. It wasn't that he didn't want to go, or that he didn't have more than one very good reason to do so. First and foremost in his mind was, of course, the current state of affairs at the Jade Palace, with the Wu Sisters on their way to the Valley and the creature that was indulging in such sadistic murders surely right behind them…or perhaps even rushing ahead of them, if the speed with which it had crossed China was to be believed.

 

In the case of the three assassins, once he finally had been able to speak to Shifu in private, Tai Lung had at last confessed to him what the sisters had said to him just before battle had been joined—at least, the fact that they served someone with an interest in him, and that they wished to turn him once more to evil. He was still not ready to admit that he had met them before, or the circumstances…and as for the intimation that they could possibly lead him to his birth family, he was certainly not going to tell the red panda that.

 

If there were even a chance it might be true, he wanted the freedom to pursue the information unfettered before he decided what to do with it, and how to get it without letting the sisters sink their claws into him. (Though he wouldn't be surprised if they claimed to be related to him themselves, and this 'long-lost family' was actually their own.) If Shifu did in fact know more than he was telling on the subject, Tai Lung did not wish to tip him off…and if he didn't, it would be unfair to reveal a lack of faith in him. After the panda had by contrast shown such faith in the leopard, refusing to believe he had attacked Po in a hot-blooded rage, it was the least he could do to tell his master at least a little of what they were facing.

 

In any event, Shifu had not known what to make of this, and had been just as mystified as to why the sisters would be interested in him or who could possibly have hired them. But the snow leopard would bet almost anything that Oogway did in fact know such things…if for no other reason than Tai Lung was beginning to suspect, with mingled trepidation and hatred, that the one who had hired them was also the one responsible for the death of that farmer—and that this person and the 'one who was coming', whom the sage could 'hold back no longer', were one and the same.

 

The turtle obviously knew much more than he was telling, and he was determined to find out just what it was—so he could protect Po and Tigress from it (and, he supposed, the rest of the Five), and so he would be ready…would know what it was he had to do, and prepare for it.

 

But just as compelling was the fact he didn't know how he could face Oogway now. When they had parted a little over three weeks ago, he had begun to see his old master in a new light…he had understood he'd been mistaken about so many things—the turtle's hatred and rejection of him, the reason he'd denied him the Dragon Scroll, what future possibilities he foresaw for the snow leopard, what choices and decisions he'd made that had been so painfully wrong. It was why he had apologized to Oogway, and why he'd listened to him enough to consider, and then finally accept, Shifu's offer.

 

Since that night, he had learned and encountered things he never would have expected, things which changed his outlook even more…and left him feeling utterly exposed before the Grand Master—and unworthy of speaking with him again. All of the possessions in his room, which revealed so many sides to the turtle which Tai Lung had never known while he lived…the secret cabinet, the contents of which testified to the fact Oogway did, in fact, love him after all…his words to Zhuang, years ago, laying the groundwork for the citizens of the Valley to forgive and accept the one who had ravaged them without remorse.

 

Add this to the memories of growing up at the Jade Palace, traveling China, visiting the Imperial City, and other special moments with the turtle all throughout the years of his training, and it was no wonder he felt absolutely horrid for the way he had treated Oogway. Even as wise and enlightened as the turtle was, how could he ever forgive Tai Lung?

 

Yet he could not put this off any longer. While it was paltry in comparison to his own sins, he could not deny this chance to repair at least one small piece of the damage he had caused, to grant Oogway's wish and thereby make peace between them. And there was so much he needed to ask, so much he had to know. It was now or never.

 

That decided him—and so, before he could lose his nerve again, he reached out and picked up the two halves of the staff which rested on their supports…right where he'd found them when he faced Shifu, when he'd turned about with such smugness, cockiness, and sarcasm to compel his adopted father to assume the role which was now his, and take it upon himself to grant the Dragon Scroll. The shattered wood had been fitted together again, even with some of its splinters missing, and to his shock, the staff still felt faintly warm—despite the fact the Hall of Warriors in general and this corner in particular was always cool and shadowed, not bathed in sunlight during the day.

 

Though he still didn't know how he could repair it, the snow leopard suddenly had real hope it could nevertheless be done. Clutching each segment in a paw, Tai Lung turned and fled from the sacred chamber into the night—out the new doors, down the steps, and across the arena toward the forested hillside outside the compound, where the moon-washed ledge wound upwards toward the peach tree.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Behind him, a lithe figure watched from the shadows, golden-ruby eyes blazing as every muscle stood out beneath her pelt—an ugly, menacing growl echoing with shocking loudness in the utter silence. Just before she would have leaped forward in pursuit of the spotted feline, however, to snatch away the staff that he had dared to desecrate—again!—and then do her level best to batter him senseless for such an act of violation, a small hand grasped the back of her trousers. And despite the seeming gentleness of the action, Shifu's grip was like iron on her leg, easily restraining her from following. "No. Wait."

 

Tigress turned and glared down at him in consternation and disbelief. "What? Master, why? Surely you can see…how can you just let him go, when he's stealing Master Oogway's staff?"

 

"Because I don't think that's what he's doing." Stepping forward from the shadows of the pillar where they had concealed themselves from the snow leopard, the red panda gazed across sadly at his master's portrait. "If he were, he would not have bothered with a prayer, now would he? Call it a hunch."

 

Clasping his paws at the small of his back, Shifu let the snide tone leave his voice, instead lapsing back into pensive introspection. Habitually stroking his goatee, he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the doorway where Tai Lung had vanished. "He'll be back, Tigress. And we'll be waiting for him when he returns…"

                                                                     

* * *

 

Once again, the promontory overlooking the Valley was windswept, peaceful, and still, a perfect place to escape the cares of the world and seek out inner peace. This time, however, it did not seem so desolate and lonely…rather, expectant and contemplative, and there was a welcome friendliness about it too. Some of this may have been projecting on his part, since this time he was of a much more forgiving bent toward Oogway than before, but all things considered, he wouldn't discount the possibility he was sensing a genuine shift in the atmosphere.

 

For one thing, unless his eyesight had dulled in just three weeks, he thought he spied the beginnings of buds forming at the end of each twig, suggesting that the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom was indeed slowly but surely springing to new life. And the fact the mountain top was now flooded with the silvery, blue-white shimmers of luminescent moonlight surely helped make it seem more inviting, wondrous, and alive.

 

Tai Lung didn't spend very long drinking in the aura of the cliffside, though, nor pause to peer down at the sleepy, shadow-draped village. Instead he strode over to plant himself beneath the boughs of the peach tree, still clutching the halves of the staff in his paws as he gazed up, through the withered, spiky branches into a night sky packed with stars. He didn't know what he was looking for, what he thought would happen, but he knew Oogway would come if he waited long enough.

 

He tried to be patient; he really did. And he lasted much longer than might have been predicted, even than he would have three weeks ago. He counted silently to himself, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as if in a meditative trance, clasped his paws and the still warm lengths of wood together, and forced his heart to a slow steady beat, his thoughts to a placid, ordered expanse. But after ten minutes, perhaps fifteen, he couldn't take it anymore.

 

Opening his eyes with a jerk, he peered around the deserted shelf, then up into the sky at the blazing white orb of the moon, before finally speaking. Though he didn't shout or make taunting demands, he couldn't keep the sarcasm completely from his voice. "Any time now, Master. No one else here has anywhere else they have to be, or anything."

 

The familiar raspy chuckle came from behind him, again, and when he turned the lambent spirit of the Grand Master was grinning at him with a naughty, irreverent air he well remembered, for all that it had always seemed quite rare—he still wasn't certain if that was a relief or a regret. "I see you can still be taught, Tai Lung. But there are some aspects of you which will never change…some might consider that a curse, but in this case I call it a blessing."

 

For a moment he gritted his teeth, extremely put out at the condescension he thought he detected in the turtle's tone. But then he sighed and chuckled ruefully, shaking his head. "Yes, well…give me enough time, I may just get it eventually. But I don't think you summoned me here just to entertain you."

 

Oogway quirked a wrinkled brow, an odd effect indeed considering it was produced with the aid of levitating peach blossoms. "Always with you, it is down to business at once."

 

Tai Lung stood up straight and tall, fixing the old reptile with his determined gaze. "That isn't it at all. It's just that I want to do what I came here to do…what I promised you." He held out the broken staff, even as he was privately surprised at the catch in his own voice.

 

The shade smiled…wistfully, sadly, but with a definite gentle fondness. "Indeed…it makes my heart glad that you so desire this. I am simply glad you chose to visit me again at all…even if I know you have many questions you wish answered that also brought you here." Even as Tai Lung grumbled to himself at the turtle's ability to divine his heart's intentions, Oogway turned and gestured to one side of the promontory. "Yes, let us see to fulfilling your promise, and then I will tell you what I can."

 

Following after the sage uncertainly, feeling quite puzzled, the snow leopard stopped when the turtle did, then looked down as Oogway pointed with one stubby-clawed hand. There, several feet away from the base of the tree, a small mound of dirt had been formed, and from the middle of it sprouted a tiny plant. Even though it was such a little thing, something about it made him feel…oddly protective. Perhaps it was the fact that despite growing in such a barren place, it was still a bright, lively green, as if it were bold enough to weather any adversity and still emerge victorious. And though it made absolutely no sense, and he was beginning to doubt his sanity again, he could swear it gave off a feeling of serenity and calm acceptance.

 

"What's this about?" he said at last, unable to fight the sense that Oogway was toying with him again. "Am I supposed to be a gardener now?"

 

"No," the turtle said with clear amusement. "Let us just say this is a result of a little talk I had with Shifu before my time here ended. It has many meanings, and many purposes, but one of them is a renewal of faith. It just may help us renew other things as well."

 

Tai Lung groaned, longing for a wall to bash his head against. Instead he settled for pressing the knobby upper half of the tortoise's stick to his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Master…please, could you _try_ , for once, to use a nice, direct, declarative sentence? Just for novelty's sake?"

 

"Or perhaps you, too, need to think outside of the box, my boy?" His tone wasn't offended or annoyed, however, just mildly chiding. And definitely tinged with humor. "Simply hold the staff together above the plant, Tai Lung. We will let our _chi_ and the power of the moon do the rest."

 

The snow leopard stared at him, dumbfounded, jaw slightly unhinged. _And speaking of unhinged…no more joking, he really has cracked. Lost his mind entirely, even though he doesn't have one anymore._ But he knew he had to go along with it, no matter how insane it seemed; he couldn't think of a better way to soften the old codger up so that he might be willing to give more worthwhile, informative answers than by humoring him. And by now he had come to accept that whether he liked it or not, he would always end up obeying Oogway no matter how gently and liltingly his requests were made.

 

Besides…he'd proven frighteningly accurate about the coming threat to the Valley, and the wisdom he'd expressed when holding forth on Yin and Yang was unquestionable. The turtle knew things…who could say that somehow, some way, this seemingly idiotic ritual wouldn't produce results?

 

Setting his jaw, Tai Lung glanced down at the staff, narrowing his eyes to focus in on the jagged points and splinters in the wood until he could discern exactly how they joined together. Then he took one half in each paw and very carefully fitted them into place, meshing the edges and pressing each tightly against the other. Carefully, being certain not to jostle them apart and further snap the fragile wood, he then extended his arms out in front of him, positioning the broken middle of the staff directly above the sprightly little plant.

 

When nothing happened, he glanced sardonically at Oogway's ghost. "So now what? I contemplate my navel while you spout Confucius and whatever other mystical mumbo-jumbo you can think of?"

 

"Tai Lung." Again the reproving tone. "Now, we talk. That is, I believe, why you returned, is it not?"

 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Really? Just like that, you're going to tell me what I want to know? Now why do I not believe that…"

 

"Why don't you?" Oogway equivocated, although from his tone he wasn't making fun of him, but genuinely confused. "Is it so hard to believe I should wish to help?"

 

The snow leopard lashed his tail slowly, flicked one ear. There had to be more to it than this, some manner of trick. "So…that's why you brought me here? Just to talk to me?"

 

"And why must there be more to it? Why must something have another meaning, or require convoluted thought, before you will believe I am being honest with you? We used to speak many times, my boy, and unless I am mistaken, you miss those times as much as I do. So, here I am, ready and willing…shall we? Or did you enjoy being contrary for its own sake?"

 

Tai Lung frowned thunderously. "I have as good a memory as you, old man, if not clearer. You lived and breathed philosophy, the more cryptic the better. And are you really telling me you just want to chat—there isn't some dire portent to impart, some ominous prophecy to utter? And that the whole thing won't be couched as mysteriously and vaguely as possible?"

 

"Well…I didn't say that." Oogway both looked and sounded apologetic. "When I lived, divining the future was never an exact science. Much was obscured from me, and there was always the danger of my being mistaken, misinterpreting what I saw, missing a vital clue. Crossing to the realm of the gods has not rent the mists and made my foresight any clearer, my boy. And there are certain things I cannot tell you, no matter how I wish it…things it would be counterproductive for you to know. Things which could well interfere with your destiny, or worse render it impossible to come to pass. Just as some prophecies, were they known, would fulfill themselves as we struggle against them, others would never come true precisely because of the telling of them.

 

"However," and he raised a hand to forestall Tai Lung's despairing and resentful objection, "as I said, I _will_ tell you what I can, as clearly as it is possible for me to do. As for there not being a coming danger to be concerned about…you know very well that is patently untrue."

 

Oogway's eyes rested unwaveringly on the snow leopard's, and he experienced a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, along with a deep chill that had nothing to do with the midnight darkness—because he saw something in the turtle's eyes he had never seen there before: worry, and the glimmers of real fear.

 

Tai Lung swallowed, then nodded. "Fine…then if you would, can you tell me…just what is going on here? Who's behind all this? What's he want from me?"

 

"Who he is, is immaterial. It would tell you nothing, and I will not utter his name and so give him power. What is much more useful is knowing _what_ he is. He is, to put it quite simply, the greatest and most perfected master of _chi_ I have ever known. Not only his own, but that of anyone with whom he comes in contact. He can manipulate it, control it, twist it to serve his own ends. It gives him power over life and death, shadow as well as light. He is, in a sense, able to tap into the heart of what drives Yin and Yang, and so shift the balance between them…in a single human soul, as well as that of the land itself. His will is adamantine…and with it, he can do things you cannot possibly imagine. Above all, he can turn others to corruption, debasement, and the darkest of motivations solely by influencing their innermost desires."

 

Whatever he'd expected to hear, that wasn't it. Breath rasping in his throat, the snow leopard stared at Oogway in disbelief. There were many things in this world that could not be explained to any satisfaction…many strange and unusual turns of events that could only be called supernatural or mystical. But Tai Lung had never believed in most of them—a devout skeptic, if one could excuse the oxymoron, he had always been a follower of logic and reason, and thus could not believe in a thing unless he received unequivocal proof of its reality, its existence.

 

He knew _chi_ was real because he had been trained to draw upon his own. He knew there was a spirit world because he had fought shrieking demons from its depths. He knew there was an afterlife because he had the evidence of it right in front of him. And while he quite often doubted there were gods, or had believed for twenty years that if they existed they had turned their faces from him, there had been times, even in the blackest despair into which Chorh-Gom had plunged him, that he had felt…something there, that he was not alone.

 

But to know there could be an entity that could harness the power of such spiritual things to use as his weapons, and that by so doing he could take away free will, pervert the most honorable and noble of intentions, and eventually create such imbalance and chaos both within and without that they could never be banished…it was unbelievable, impossible…and terrifying.

 

Even as he was struggling with this concept, and regarding both it and the Grand Master with cynical doubt— _Magic?_ he scoffed, _Was it opium or lotus leaves you had too much of when you were young, Oogway?_ —the turtle was speaking again.

 

"As to what he wants from you, I can only surmise he believes your _chi_ will allow him to extend his reach across the Valley, if not all of China. Both because, as the greatest kung fu warrior of your or perhaps any generation, you have a veritable sea of it at your disposal, and because you also, I am afraid, are very easily swayed to give in to your own demons. He wants your power and your service…and I do not think he will break free of his obsession with you until you are his, or one of you is dead."

 

A very long pause. Then he managed to say, dryly, "Oh, is that all? Well thanks for the warning, now I feel _so_ much better."

 

Amazingly, Oogway actually chuckled. "You are quite welcome," he said with a twinkle in his eye, as if Tai Lung had been completely serious. "Now, I hope, you will understand why I told you it is so important for you to center yourself and find balance. No person can be free of darkness, Yin and Yang will always be competing within us. But to one who is in touch with all aspects of himself, who can draw strength from each without allowing either to dominate him…one such as this is completely beyond the ability of your adversary to sway."

 

"So…" Tai Lung bit his lip as he worked to wrap his mind around this; on the one paw, it was more simple than anything he'd ever been told by the turtle, on the other paw it was also incredibly complex. "What will he try to do? What must I guard against? And should I tell the others? Master Shifu?"

 

Oogway's face seemed to close, and he lowered his eyes to the stone above which he floated. "I do not know the full extent of his powers, nor what precise strategies he might employ. But in one manner or another, you can expect to be tested. Whatever he sends your way, it will be designed to break you, tear down your defenses, and remake you as his creature. It will distract you or lure you, confuse you or fool you…it will be unexpected, yet also aimed straight at the heart of who you are and what you desire. And in one way or another, I suspect you will have to face, and deal with, your past once and for all. There can be no other manner in which you can triumph…and I fully believe you can, my boy. That strength which has always sustained you, kept others out of your heart, denied the truths they tried to show you…it can now be your greatest defense, if you can only learn to harness it, let Shifu guide it.

 

"As for the Five…you may tell them what you wish. But I think you know they are not likely to trust, or believe. You yourself do not believe me yet, and I do not blame you. None of you will until you stare into the abyss, and it stares back. I only hope then it will not be too late."

 

Shaking his head, the spotted feline growled softly, his paws gripping tighter on the staff until he was certain he heard the wood cracking. "I don't understand, Master. How…how can I fight such a thing? I wouldn't know where to begin."

 

"You cannot defeat him by force of arms," Oogway agreed. "This will be a battle of will, a test of your courage and fortitude, and a tempering of your spirit. It will require cunning and intellect, wisdom and foresight. But it is what you were meant to do, and there is no other who could do it better. It is what I have always believed…and once you do the same, there is nothing you cannot achieve."

 

Tai Lung felt his heart swell in his chest, even as it also throbbed with a buried pain. He had always longed to hear the turtle praise him so highly, to speak of his talents and skills in such glowing terms, to be told that, just as his father believed in his destiny as the Dragon Warrior, so too did Oogway. Now that he had finally received it…he no longer felt worthy of it.

 

Courage? That had deserted him when he lost the scroll, when his insecurities had made him believe he was utterly worthless in the Valley's eyes; only a coward would have abused his kung fu training to slaughter so many innocents, to believe that becoming a bully somehow made him superior. Wisdom? If he'd had that, he would have understood the scroll's meaning when he finally got it away from Po, would have known years ago why he had been denied it, would in fact have struck his balance long before the day of the naming ceremony.

 

No, he didn't have what it took to withstand a foe of this magnitude. Tigress had said it best: all he knew was bloodshed and violence, and while he had the cleverness to be a successful general, he also had the smarts to know, after having it drummed into his stubborn skull, when he was outclassed.

 

"Master, I…I'm afraid I don't deserve your faith in me." He hung his head, squeezed his eyes shut. "You know what I've done. You know how easy it would be for me to do it again. This…this _chi_ wizard, he'd have a field day with me. Wouldn't it be better to send me far away, where I wouldn't be a danger to anyone? If I stay here…I know he'll claim me. I'll hurt…those I care for again. I know it."

 

It hurt to admit this, but he could not allow pride to get in the way now. Po had nearly died because he'd allowed bloodlust and arrogance to get the better of him with the Wu Sisters. How much worse would that be, if this enemy could inflame and control such emotions in him? Tigress could be next…or Crane, or Viper…

 

The warmest, most loving smile he had ever seen on Oogway's face…one which reminded him, suddenly, of long-forgotten cubhood memories…beamed out at him from the twirling peach blossoms. "No," he said—low, insistent, and earnestly sympathetic. "You have it backwards, my child. The very fact you are so determined to absent yourself, so as to protect them…the very fear that you will fall prey to him…these tell me you are right where you belong, that you are learning, that you will be proof against him in ways he cannot even comprehend."

 

"I don't understand."

 

"You will." He was not smug in this, nor mocking the snow leopard…only immensely and confidently satisfied.

 

"But…" Tai Lung looked at him, feeling that old familiar urge to throttle him, to try and shake sense and a straight answer out of him. But more than just the fact he was holding the staff together stopped him. "How can I do what you expect of me, Master? You must know what they think of me in the village. You know they hate and fear me, that they'll never accept me. And now, after what happened to the Dragon Warrior, Tigress is never going to trust me again. She probably isn't the only one. How can I do what needs to be done, if I have all that standing in my way?"

 

He almost admitted the truth…that he didn't believe he could become a true hero if he didn't have someone beside him, showing him he deserved to be loved. That he yearned above everything else to claim Tigress for his own, and if he could not, he feared the bitterness of that rejection would taint him just as much as being denied the Dragon Scroll had twenty years before. That even with Mei Ling's timely assistance, he had the frustrating certainty that whatever had been growing and building between them had been utterly dashed the minute Tigress had seen his bloody paws on the panda's throat, an image she would never be able to ignore.

 

But he knew such a thing was selfish, and that if he truly wanted to be a legend, as well as survive this siege, he had to set such shallow lust aside. For that was what it was, he saw that now. He wanted her only because his body told him to, because she was quite simply the most drop-dead gorgeous female he'd ever laid eyes on, and because if he could possess her he could finally leave a lasting legacy in the form of his children. _Hardly the most noble of aspirations_.

 

No, if he was to make anything of himself now, to be ready to face this test Oogway said lay ahead of him, he had to let Tigress go…if for no other reason than because if the wizard learned how much she mattered to him, he would surely threaten her to compel obedience. And neither that threat, nor his service, could be allowed.

 

Oogway clasped his misty hands in front of him and regarded his former student proudly; for a split second, Tai Lung was certain the turtle knew exactly what he'd been thinking, and actually approved. "Do not be troubled, Tai Lung. Simply continue along the path you have chosen, and you will find the tools you need to overcome. As for what…others…think of you, I can only say, you must let these things proceed at their own pace, and take their natural course."

_Easier said than done_. But could he possibly be implying it was too early to give up…that his suit might still have merit after all? Shelving the matter to ponder later, he pressed onwards. "And the Wu Sisters? What do I do about them, where do they fit into this?"

 

For a full minute, the turtle gazed at him rather blankly. When he finally answered, his tone was completely befuddled. "I don't know." A beat, and then he shrugged apologetically beneath his shell. "They are something I'm afraid I did not foresee. It is possible their presence may upset the balance…but I think in the end, you will know how to deal with them."

 

Tai Lung rolled his eyes, but couldn't exactly object; whatever else the assassins were, they were clearly mortals with no special powers beyond what any kung fu master could attain. Surely they could indeed be dispatched with relative ease compared to this shadowy figure. "And the one doing the killings? Is that our friendly neighborhood _chi_ puppeteer, or does he have someone else working for him you don't know about?"

 

Oogway's expression became flat and stern, yet also closed, revealing nothing about his thoughts. "All I can see is death, in his past, present, and future. I think you must face the possibility that neither the dead, nor the past, will stay buried."

 

Something in his choice of words chilled the snow leopard anew, but he would not let himself follow his train of thoughts to its end. Instead he locked gazes with his old mentor, silent and still while he again squeezed the staff—as much to draw strength from it as to have an outlet for his emotions. He knew there were things Oogway wasn't telling him, but considering what the turtle had chosen to reveal, he had to believe that nothing which had been held back would endanger his life, that it had been withheld for his own good or the time was not right. That being the case…

 

"Fine, I'll take what I can get. If that's all you can tell me…then all I can say is, I'll do my best not to let you down. I'll…I'll try to be what you think I am."

 

The minute those words passed his lips, he felt a flare of warmth in his paws, and then Oogway smiled at him brightly. "Now that is just what I wanted to hear. And I think, if you look down, Tai Lung, you'll find you're better at repair work than you thought."

 

Doing as instructed, he discovered two things that made him inhale sharply and widen his eyes in awe: the tiny green plant was glowing with a buttery, golden light that had risen in sparkling motes to surround his paws…and it had penetrated the staff, thereby rejoining the halves seamlessly and flawlessly. The haft of wood was whole once more…and somehow, as he slid his paws along the length and turned it about to a vertical position, he felt an odd, intimate connection with it. As if, in some strange way, a part of himself—his _chi_ , perhaps—had flowed into it while he held it, aiding in the healing…leaving its own mark.

 

 

"How…?"

 

Oogway gestured again, and as the snow leopard watched, some of the petals which composed his soul substance drifted free to waft across the intervening space between them, riding on a breath of wind to swirl around the staff. "Perhaps I should have been a bit more specific when I identified that plant for you, my boy. It is, in fact, the sprout of a peach tree, taken from this very tree we stand beneath. Peaches, as you know, are imbued with great wisdom, those of this sacred tree more than most.

 

"My staff was fashioned from the wood of this same tree. A budding seed is a focus of new life. The full moon, which holds sway over the cycles of life, shines down upon us. All these together allowed me to make the necessary repairs. That, and the fact you blessed it with your _chi_ as much as I did." He paused, then gazed at Tai Lung significantly. "Our life forces are now joined within that old stick. This makes it stronger than it ever was before—I would not presume to call it unbreakable, but it is certainly hardier than it normally would be. It also gives me the power to grant certain protections to you, so that you are not left defenseless against your enemy. You will not be alone again…not anymore."

 

Lowering the staff until it hung at his waist, the feline stared in wonder and disbelief at the turtle. When he spoke at last, it was in a very soft, uncertain whisper. "I don't believe it…what we found in your room. You really _do_ care about me…don't you?"

 

Withdrawing his hand and the dancing petals, Oogway nodded firmly, his expression both sad and dignified. "Of course I do, Tai Lung. I always did. How could I not? I was not blinded by ambition and pride, the way Shifu was…I had nothing riding on your success, no vested interest beyond seeing you make the best of yourself and your talents that you could. You brought youthful enthusiasm and unquestionable honor to my twilight years, and you were among the bravest and strongest students I have ever trained. I was as hurt by your betrayal, by losing you, as your father was. And even though it had to be done, I regretted having to paralyze and imprison you more than you can possibly know." Now his face was a mass of mournful, drooping lines.

 

He wanted to believe it. It would take away the sting he felt, even this many years after the fact, whenever he thought of how the scroll had been denied him. It would let him know all the time spent training with the turtle had not been in vain, that it had not been a chore Oogway underwent simply to humor Shifu but rather a task he approached with happiness and pleasure. But he could not accept it—not until he received an answer to the question that had been burning inside him ever since he was locked away in Chorh-Gom.

 

"If that is true," he said slowly, doing his level best to restrain the resentment and contempt burning within him, "then tell me this, Oogway: why did you never come to Mongolia and visit me? Why was I left alone in the dark? Why did you never show even one shred of remorse for what you'd done to me…one sign that you believed me capable of redemption…that you would ever let me free, one day?" He gritted his teeth, both to hold back his snarl of outrage and to keep his voice from breaking.

 

Wind whipped and rushed about the mountain top, billowing Tai Lung's clothing and setting the peach blossoms to another gyrating dance, but otherwise all was shockingly silent. Then at last, the tortoise looked up at him with eyes filled with an ancient pain and regret. "You know why I could not bear to look at you, just as Shifu could not. Just as you were his son, you were also my grandson, and it tore me in two to contemplate seeing you sealed away forever. It was to spare myself that sorrow that I stayed away…and I knew, too, that after what you had done, after what you believed about me and why I denied you the scroll, I would be the last person you should wish to see. So it was to spare you pain, too.

 

"That is also why I fought to keep Vachir from being made your warden…I knew that one who had personally suffered the loss of blood kin to your rampage would be the last person who should be in charge of your upkeep. That he would carry an unrelenting hatred and a desire for the cruelest revenge until his dying day. That he had the same capacity for darkness within him as you did…and the imbalance created as each of you fed off the other's Yang would be more terrible than either of you could manage alone. I did not wish to see what that would do to you, what that would make of your prison. It would have been an endless, inhuman torture. Was I mistaken?"

 

Tai Lung said not a word, but he didn't have to; his silence said everything.

 

"I also feared the wizard," Oogway added after an appropriate pause. "I knew he would be seeking you out, to feed off of you…twist you into even further depravity. I felt if I stayed away, he would not be able to find you, or at least would not be drawn to you by my _chi_. I was always a considerable thorn in his side for centuries; it was me he would focus on, I made certain of that."

 

Something surprisingly cold and self-satisfied passed over the turtle's face as he chuckled softly. "But I also never visited for one other reason, the same that you were never released: because, my boy, I kept in close correspondence with various members of the Anvil of Heaven. And they told me that never once did you show you deserved to be released. Never once did you truly repent of your sins."

 

The snow leopard's breath caught in his throat.

 

Oogway gazed at him not without sympathy, but his voice was still rather hard as he continued. "I never intended you to be a prisoner for life, no matter what those in the Valley thought or wished. I fully believed that once you calmed from your rage, once you remembered the lessons Shifu and I taught you, you would realize your error and ask for our forgiveness. If I had seen any sign of this, of the goodness and nobility returning to your heart, I would have released you in an instant and welcomed you back with open arms, Tai Lung. But you never did. Only you know why…but that is why you stayed there for twenty years. I am afraid you built your own prison."

 

Tai Lung, once again, felt like collapsing to his knees, although this time he managed to stay upright with only a slight rocking, even as he almost dropped the staff. He knew why. Obsession. Insanity. A belief that his birthright and destiny had been denied him. Hatred which had dug its poison into his heart, as he only sought revenge against those who had misled him, shaped him, turned his life to just one purpose only to then take it away. They had hurt him, and so he had wished to hurt them back. How could he admit how truly wrong he'd been, when he fully believed they were just as wrong to raise him as they did, to not give him what had been promised? So he had fallen deeper into despair, arrogance, and bloodlust. And by that act, he had sealed his own fate. Oogway was absolutely right.

 

Unbidden, an image rose into his mind, one which had haunted him and tormented him for all of his years in Chorh-Gom, whether dreaming or awake: the moment in which he would have been named the Dragon Warrior. Except this time, for the first time since it had happened, the scene looked different to his memory. Always before, all he had ever seen was the dismissive way the turtle had turned away after refusing him, how he would not even look at Tai Lung as he walked away into the shadows of the hall—it had seemed to him a clear indication the old master held him in contempt, had deliberately kept the scroll from him because he believed him worthless.

 

But now, viewing it again, he saw things he had not noticed before…how when he had ducked down to peer into Shifu's eyes and shaken his head, his expression had not been malicious, hateful, or rejecting…only deeply sad. And when he turned away, he had leaned on his staff more heavily than usual, his shoulders slumping beneath shell and cloak…slumping, he now understood, in disappointment. Oogway had _wanted_ to give him the Dragon Scroll, had wished he could…he had known how deeply Tai Lung had wanted it, and it had hurt him not to be able to fulfill the snow leopard's lifelong dream…

 

Hanging his head, he sighed shudderingly, feeling all the anger leaving him in favor of penitence and regret as quietly, wearily, painfully, he forgave Oogway. "I'm sorry, Master. It's…it's twenty years too late, but I'm sorry."

 

The turtle shook his head and folded his hands in front of him. "Didn't you pay attention, my boy? It is never too late. Not until your life has ended…and often, not even then, as you will always receive the chance to repay your debt and earn your reward in your next incarnation. What matters is you are here now, and you still have a chance to set things right. You cannot change the past, but the past can change you."

 

Nodding mechanically, the snow leopard twisted his paws back and forth around the staff, feeling particularly wretched. "But I wronged you, Master. I thought ill of you for so many years, when I shouldn't have. I…I wish there were some way to undo it. Or at least, do you the proper honor. I didn't even attend your funeral, damnit!"

 

Oogway smiled, in that way which meant he was enjoying a private amusement. "Well…there is one thing I think might help you with that."

 

He didn't move or gesture, but suddenly the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom shook in a nonexistent wind, and something wooden abruptly clattered on the stone behind Tai Lung. Whirling about, he looked down…and felt his throat constrict.

 

Lying at his feet was something he never thought he'd see again, something which had been stored away to gather dust after he reached adolescence and had been consumed only by thoughts of the Dragon Scroll. As far as he'd known, it had been tossed out or burned after his rampage, along with so many of his other possessions. But here it was now, looking just as he remembered it…a peach wood flute, the perfect twin to the one Shifu still owned…the one he had given his father for his birthday when he was what, six or seven? Quite a bit larger, of course, with finger holes sized for a snow leopard, but nevertheless unmistakable.

 

"Did you think I had forgotten?" Oogway's voice had a smile in it. "You might have pretended you had done so, that something as gentle and artistic as music was a thing a great kung fu fighter and Dragon Warrior in training had no time for. But you had a talent for it, my boy, one I always tried to encourage. And that is something you never lose entirely. It just needs to be…re-awoken inside of you. Like so much else."

 

Slowly…very slowly…he knelt down and reached out a trembling, tentative paw to pick up the flute. As soon as he touched it, it felt familiar, as if it were a part of him he had just misplaced, and now that it was back he knew exactly what to do with it. In fact as he lifted it up and idly leaned the staff against a boulder, he found his fingers moving to the holes of their own accord, picking out notes he hadn't played in years. He put the flute to his mouth…blew experimentally. The sound was as rich and pure as he remembered it, although tinged with mournfulness—absolutely fitting, as far as he was concerned.

 

He turned and looked at Oogway. The turtle peered at him beseechingly, eyes bright and hopeful. Somehow, looking at them, he couldn't help but feel a kindling of the same emotions within him. How could he ever have believed the Grand Master had hated him, had been deliberately malicious and cruel in withholding the scroll? Such things were anathema to him. Yet despite the fact he'd harbored such impossible and terrible thoughts about Oogway for so long, the reptile was still willing to forgive him—had in fact already done so long ago, and had just been waiting for the word from him before expressing it. _He really is crazy. But…in a good way._

 

Swallowing against the growing lump in his throat, Tai Lung faced the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom—and then, before he could change his mind, leaped forward and, with claws unsheathed, began scaling the trunk. This was something he had to do. And just perhaps, the fact he could do so meant he might just get to reach his other goals as well…

                                                                       

* * *

 

 

From the direction of the cliff where the sacred peach tree grew, a sound was gradually carried on the wind across the Valley…faint and soft at first, but growing more confident and determined as time passed. The few who were awake to hear it—tavern keepers and their final patrons of the night, village elders praying before their ancestor tablets, patrolling guardsmen and a weary scribe at the Jade Palace…and two others at the doors of the Hall of Warriors—stopped whatever they were doing, as there was something strangely compelling about it.

 

Soon enough, they could discern it was music, a lone flutist whom no one could see, although sharper ears could pinpoint it seemed to be coming from someone perched in the branches of the tree. The tune was an old one, not heard in the Valley in almost forty years…melancholy and somber, a song usually played in honor of the dead, but somehow laced this time with a slight hope, as if yearning for something once thought out of reach. Some who stared up toward the mountain top swore they saw something rose-pink and shimmering hovering beneath the tree, as if some visitant spirit were listening too.

 

Many an eye did not stay dry that night. Many a heart ached with an unspoken longing they could not put words to. And many wondered just who was paying homage to Grand Master Oogway—for who else could it be for, coming from the boughs of his tree?—and why they felt such power from the music…for while it was undeniably masterful work, it was hardly the composition of an Imperial Court musician.

 

But at least one who listened knew who was playing, recognized the quality of the flute and the talent of the player. And as the song continued to float around the Jade Mountain, wrapping it in its exotic sound, Master Shifu's eyes, too, brimmed over with unshed tears.

 

                                                                     

* * *

 

Almost a half hour later, having scaled the steps in utter silence and swiftness, rather feeling like a sneak thief returning to the scene of the crime—and wasn't that what it was, the scene of so many of his crimes?—Tai Lung paused when he saw that the great doors of the Jade Palace stood open a crack. Had he left them ajar? He couldn't remember. Flicking his ears irritably, he listened intently for any sound, any indication at all that anything was amiss and someone had caught him at his secret errand. But no one seemed to be about, with both the mountain and the temple shrouded in the peaceful, quiet darkness of the early morning hours.

 

Sighing, the snow leopard pushed the door open—slowly, gently, so as not to make the hinges creak—the scant amount needed to admit him into the Hall of Warriors. Then he slipped inside and padded over to the same altar he'd prayed at before leaving. Nothing had changed…the candles still burned fitfully in the breeze from the doorway, and the portrait of Oogway was the same on the wall…but inside his heart, everything had changed, all was different.

 

Reverently, treating it like the holy relic it truly was, he placed the repaired staff back on its stand, then took a slight step back so he could once more bring his paws together and give a much deeper kung fu bow.

 

"So that is what you went to do. I thought as much."

 

The voice was so sudden, so unexpected, that even though it spoke in a mild, conversational tone suitable for the time of night, it might as well have been shouted at the top of the speaker's lungs. Letting out a terrified yowl and leaping several feet off the marble floor, Tai Lung whirled around, his paw already clutching his heaving chest. When he landed, leaning slightly against a pillar for support, of course he spied Shifu standing there watching him. The red panda looked slightly quizzical, as well as openly amused, but thankfully he didn't laugh or make any humorous and therefore mortifying comment. He only waited expectantly.

 

After he'd calmed his breathing and felt his pulse slow down back to normal again, the feline briefly glared at his master—while Shifu was naturally a quiet person, the fact he could have announced his presence sooner and less shockingly made it very clear to Tai Lung he'd purposefully given the snow leopard a scare. _Damnit, I may not be as decrepit as you, old man, but I'm not getting any younger either…and I think that just shaved a few more years off!_

 

Forcing the furious look out of his eyes, he drew himself up to his full height, opened his mouth to speak…then thought better of it, and instead picked up the staff again, holding it out mutely to Shifu, resting lightly across both palms.

 

His master took the stick, hefted it experimentally, fingered the middle where it had been snapped in two, then set it against the floor and wrapped both paws around it. There he stood, breathing deeply as if drawing strength from the renewed _chi_ flowing within it…and somehow, in the silence, Tai Lung swore he could hear the echo of that terrible crack which had accompanied its breaking.

 

At last, Shifu opened his eyes and looked at him. "Thank you," he said simply. "You have been communing with his spirit for some time now, haven't you?"

_Can't get one past you, can I?_ "Yes. In fact he's the one who convinced me to accept your offer."

 

"So, I am not the only one helping to teach you," the panda murmured thoughtfully. "That is…good news. Every day, it seems, I have a new reason to hope for the best for you, Tai Lung. With Oogway's assistance, you cannot fail."

_You cannot fail_. He'd said the exact same words, many times through the years when speaking of the Dragon Scroll and the certainty that it would be his. Yet when it had come down to it, and the artifact was not granted to him, the panda had simply stared helplessly from his student to his master…and then hurried away after the turtle, leaving Tai Lung alone. He remembered vividly the conversation—no, the argument—that had taken place afterward…

 

" _What the HELL was that about?" Only by sheer force of will had he kept from beginning his rampage early, smashing apart altar tables and weapons racks, tearing priceless tapestries to shreds, kicking the nearest brazier fifty feet out the doors to hover motionlessly in the air before tumbling down the stairway. As it was, he still punched a pillar so hard he cracked the marble._

 

" _No matter what has happened, Tai Lung, I will not have cursing in the Jade Palace," Shifu snapped peevishly_ — _although on some level, he knew his master was not just incensed over his swearing…he too was furious about this decision._

 

" _I will say whatever I damn well bloody please!" he raged, balling a fist. "This is NOT fair, I have worked my fucking arse off for this for eighteen excruciating years, and this is what I get? Nothing?"_

 

" _You still mastered all one thousand scrolls, Tai Lung," the panda retorted. "I'd hardly call that nothing."_

_Tai Lung laughed derisively. "When was the last time you left your comfy palace and actually went down to the village to see how the other half lives? Must not have been very recently, or you'd know everyone there doesn't give a damn about kung fu. It's been so damn **peaceful** here for so long, they've forgotten why that is. No, all they care about is the Dragon Warrior, you got their hopes up that he'd be chosen, just as much as you did mine, and now that I'm not…they're going to want nothing to do with me!"_

_He balled both fists this time, then turned and kicked over a silkscreen with a noisy clatter. "D'you know what they call me down there? D'you even care? Honorless. Fatherless. The orphan no one wanted. They're just going to love this! Especially that pompous ass Vachir…"_

 

" _Do **not** disrespect the Anvil of Heaven that way again, or I shall confine you to your room!" Shifu emphasized his point with the swinging of his bamboo staff, the sound of it whistling through the air before the lightweight but hard wood landed in a stinging slap across the backs of the snow leopard's thighs, making him yelp and whirl about, clapping his paws to his backside._ " _And of course I care! But this will pass in time, my boy. They will forget, especially if you help them to see past this one thing you lack, to all the things you do possess. Something you cannot do if you throw a fit_ — _what are you, a man or a cub?" Shifu's eyes had blazed angrier than he ever remembered them._

 

" _Neither!" he snarled. "I'm nothing, that's what I am. I'm a has-been now, an ex-hero. Maybe if this hadn't been my goal, if no one had ever expected more of me than mastering the thousand scrolls, it'd be different. But it's too late now, I'm just the Dragon Warrior wannabe!"_

 

" _Son…no." Both the panda's face and voice fell as he stared at him in disbelief. "You are so much more than that, you must believe it! If…if it matters that much to you, I'm certain we can find another role for you, another way you can make a legend of yourself. At least you can be made a master, that I promise you."_

 

" _I must believe you? You promise me?" Tai Lung sneered. "You've been saying that all my life, Master_ — _" He uttered the title with blatant sarcasm. "_ — _and look where it's gotten me! And there isn't anything else I can be, or do! Don't you get it? You've turned me into this, made it so I didn't have anything else but kung fu, told me I would be the Dragon Warrior until every bit of me was convinced of it. Without that…all that work was useless! I can't settle for something else, something lesser. That isn't good enough for me, for them, or for_ — _"_

_He broke off abruptly; he would not admit how badly he wanted to hear Shifu say, at last, that he was proud of him. He in turn had too much pride for that. And he knew now that without the scroll, he would never hear it._

 

" _What has gotten into you, Tai Lung?" Shifu sounded both mystified and appalled. "Maybe…maybe Master Oogway was right about you. Maybe you do have too much darkness in you…"_

 

" _Is that what this is about?" He laughed again, harshly. "I think his brains are going. I may have a temper, but I'm not evil."_

 

" _I don't think that's what he meant…"_

_He didn't let his father finish. Because now he was pleading with Shifu. "Please, Father, you have to tell him that. I promise, I'll do whatever he wants, pass whatever tests he wants to throw at me_ — _drive off the Huns again, go off and face legions of demons, whatever it takes. But I have to have that scroll, it means everything to me! Doesn't he understand that?"_

 

" _Of course he does, but it isn't that simple. In any case, he has made up his mind, and his decision is final."_

 

" _Then overrule him!"_

 

" _I don't have that power, and even if I did, I couldn't use it that way."_

 

" _Couldn't, or wouldn't?"_

 

" _What is that supposed to mean?"_

 

" _Just what it sounds like." Tai Lung glared at him, even as, again, he felt as if his heart were breaking into jagged fragments, each one slicing deeply into his flesh. "I'm starting to wonder who's more important to you: your master, or your son."_

_Shifu inhaled sharply, a stricken look on his face. "Why, you impertinent…how dare you? That is grossly unfair, you know I cannot choose between you."_

 

" _The truth hurts, doesn't it? And I thought I meant everything to you." Despite the stilted tone in his voice, he couldn't keep the real anguish from bleeding through._

 

" _You do! It's just that…"_

 

" _Just what? It's a simple question, Master: who's more important? Are you going to let that stupid old man rule your life, or are you going to give me what you know I should have had?"_

_Shifu had stood there, stunned into silence, his eyes flicking from Tai Lung's face, to the Moon Pool, to the hall which led to Oogway's chamber. The fact he hesitated at all only made the snow leopard more upset, but at the same time he thought, for a single shining moment, that the panda would do as he asked, would fetch the scroll for him. But then at last his tiny shoulders slumped and he muttered, "I…no, I can't. Master Oogway always does things for a reason, there must be something we're not seeing. Somehow, I was mistaken…you are not the Dragon Warrior. But you can still be a hero, I know it!"_

_The words flowed in one ear and out the other, ignored and unheard. His heart wasn't in pain anymore…now he just felt cold. He felt nothing. "I see. I guess that answers that question." Turning away contemptuously, he stalked toward the doors and the steps down to the village._

 

" _This isn't over, Tai Lung. We will find a way out…I won't rest till you're purged of this darkness! I'll **make** a place for you, better than the Dragon Warrior's!" The panda sounded desperate now._

 

" _There is nothing better," he growled over his shoulder. "But you're right…it isn't over…" And with those ominous words, he stormed out, ignoring his father's_ — _no, his master's_ — _cries to go to his room and stay there, to meditate on what he could do to balance himself. He would go down to the village, and this once break the vow he'd made in Hunan. Because if anything justified poisoning himself with a drink…no, a barrel of alcohol…it was this…_

 

"Tai Lung?"

 

Snapping out of his reverie, the snow leopard stared down at Shifu—for a moment, still recalling the terrible rage, pain, and betrayal he had felt that day twenty years ago. But as soon as he saw the look of concern on the panda's features, he shook himself free and reminded himself, forcibly, that as Oogway had said, the past could not be changed. And if instead it were to change him, he would wish it to be by providing him examples of what never to do again, not causing him to backslide into the same bitter, repetitive beliefs.

 

Yet he also could not deny that the Hall of Warriors held many memories for him, bad as well as good, memories which kept reminding him of what he had suffered…and what he in turn had inflicted on others. Especially Shifu. Even though he had worked with Zhuang to erect a new set of doors, it took no more than a moment to recall how it had felt to smash through the old ones…to watch the aged wood splinter and disintegrate under his incredible onslaught, leaving only a jagged hole for him to burst through, roaring and snarling like a wild beast let loose from its cage.

 

And so he was; so overwhelmed by his fearsome temper had he been, he hadn't even been thinking clearly, if at all. Instead of coming back to confront Oogway, argue with him, and convince him to change his mind and hand over the scroll as had been his original intention after drowning his sorrows—or else secretively sneaking into the palace and simply stealing his heart's desire—like the hunting predator he was, Tai Lung had had only one thing in mind, to sink his claws into the Dragon Scroll and make it his. All else had been but obstacles in his way—he'd barely even been aware it was his father leaping at him until the last possible second, when he had already lashed out with his paw and it was too late to spare him. Of course, once he was paralyzed by Oogway, and the mixture of adrenaline rush and berserker blood rage had begun to fade as he lay on the floor, it was a different story entirely…

 

Similarly, one glance at the Moon Pool behind Shifu served to remind him of how he had nearly killed him a second time, just three weeks ago. How he'd hurled him backwards again and again with each successive blow of his flame-wreathed paws, sent him smashing and battered into the cracked steps…and then, when the panda had dared apologize to him and tell him he was proud of him, as if that made everything better, as if he could even trust it was real, how he had literally shaken him by his robe, then slammed him down again.

 

Even as he looked down morosely at Shifu, the snow leopard could recall how it felt to have the panda's pulse flutter under his fingers, how the tendons and bones in his neck had slowly been giving way under the pressure…if Po had arrived just a few minutes later…

 

"Forgive me, Master…" He licked dry lips, swallowed to moisten his throat as well. "I'm…there's a lot to think about, and I'm not sure where to go from here." Quite the understatement! And it didn't even refer to the information Oogway had given him about this _chi_ wizard, which he still didn't know how much to reveal to Shifu. The red panda, after all, was no more a person to take such superstitious matters on faith than Tai Lung was, and even if he believed him, somehow the snow leopard didn't think he was meant to tell all. Not yet, not until it threatened others more directly. This challenge, this test, was one he had to weather alone. And in any case, he still wasn't certain he could bring himself to trust Shifu…or whether Shifu should trust him.

 

On the one paw, he had loved the panda so very much that at times it had hurt, an ache he could almost feel. So when his father had apparently turned on him, refused to stand up for him…and the thing he had always dreamed of, that which would have guaranteed Shifu's love, had been denied him…it had been as if a halberd had swapped ends, his love turning to pure hatred. On the other paw, he'd then been willing to kill the very one he had once loved, and all over a roll of parchment which in the end had turned out to be meaningless.

 

Of course he hadn't known that at the time, nor had he intended to kill Shifu at the start. A small part of him, that which he would once call naïve and now seemed more like clinging to that last shred of hope and decency, had actually thought that if he could convince Shifu to step aside and let him take the scroll willingly, then everything would have been all right. There would have been no need to fight, in all honesty he hadn't wanted to—and once the scroll was his, he would have used its power to prove himself a true hero, and everyone from Shifu on down to the lowliest villager would realize they were wrong about him. His crimes would be forgotten, with only his assured future as a legendary protector forefront in all their minds.

 

Tai Lung shook his head sadly. He must still have been unstable as a mudslide, to believe that could ever have happened.

 

When that avenue had failed, then, to have the panda instead try and appeal to his better nature had felt like a slap in the face. He'd resented the implication that he needed an apology or forgiveness, when all he'd wanted was the Dragon Scroll. Only with its mystical abilities could he be victorious—on some level he'd even convinced himself that it could cure him of his darkness and rage, and so retroactively make him worthy of it after all. Shifu would surely love him then…

 

But even more importantly, he'd had absolutely no reason at the time to believe in his father's sincerity. This was the man who had told him, when he returned to the Valley, that it was no longer his home and he was no longer his master. This was the man who had fought him practically to the death, when there'd have been no need for it if he had simply handed the scroll over. It was only after Tai Lung had utterly beaten him that Shifu began spouting out his apologies.

 

So it had been so easy, when the lure of the scroll still hung before him, when he still thought he was being denied his rightful possession and that only by obtaining it could he make everything the way it should be, to think that Shifu had simply been telling him what he wanted to hear, a desperate, last-ditch effort to spare his own life. He knew now, of course, after that day in the kwoon if nothing else, that the panda had been honest, albeit ineffectual, in his apologies. Yet after forty years—twenty of those spent breaking his back, the other twenty spent rotting in a hellhole prison—to hear that from his own father, coming back to find that the one who supposedly loved and was proud of him had replaced him with other students, had even chosen another Dragon Warrior in his place, and then having him only apologize when there was a very good chance it might save him...

 

But now that he knew the scroll would never be his, suddenly the panda's words to him that day weren't so worthless or insincere anymore. Suddenly, if he could not be the Dragon Warrior, instead being master of the thousand scrolls—being a kung fu master at all—seemed a fairly attractive and honorable prospect. Suddenly, if there was nothing left for him to attain, knowing he did have Shifu's love and the panda had always been proud of him was more precious to him than all the jade in the Imperial City. And if at the time he'd been trying to reach out to his father and the love he thought might still be there, only to have the panda coldly dismiss him as having any place at the Jade Palace, to angrily deny he ever had a chance to be the Dragon Warrior and should just have accepted Oogway's decision gracefully…well, that didn't change the fact that he had received his love and pride after all, if only too little, too late.

 

And yet, he'd still come that close to killing Shifu. That, too, was something that could never be forgiven. Not even by himself. As he had told Tigress, it was the worst thing he could ever have done, and every time he thought of it now, it filled him with horror. All his prior reasoning could explain his actions...but it could never justify them...

 

Around and around his thoughts chased each other in his beleaguered mind, harrying and pursuing each other like leaves caught in a dust devil, until finally he couldn't take it anymore. He had to find some way to lay these demons to rest… Clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, he spoke forcefully, yet also imploringly.

 

"Master Shifu…please…I have to know. I've made my peace with Master Oogway, I've honored him and done what little I could to make it up to him for all the misery I caused him. But…I can't do the same with you until you answer me one question."

 

Unsurprisingly, Shifu blinked several times, and now he seemed to be the one a little unsteady on his feet. But he recovered quickly and only nodded, slow and patient. "Very well. Ask."

 

Tai Lung closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and nerved himself. "Why didn't you stand up for me, that day Oogway turned me down for the scroll?"

 

Apparently on some level the panda must have expected this question eventually, because he didn't seem to need to take long to gather his thoughts before he spoke. "There were…several reasons, my student. Most of them, if you can believe it, involved fear. Quite obviously, I was afraid of the darkness Oogway said existed in you…afraid of what it could do, what you would become if I did not stop you. But I was also afraid to defend you, because I had lost all confidence in myself."

 

"You?" Tai Lung snorted, half-disdainfully, half in amusement. "I find that hard to believe, you're as damned proud as I am."

 

"Indeed, which as I told you when we fought was exactly the problem. But yes, you see I had convinced myself I knew better than my master. That if I was not to be the Dragon Warrior myself, I was destined to raise and train him. That I couldn't possibly have made any mistakes, either in reading your aptitude or in my parenting. But when Master Oogway made it quite clear this was not the case, my pride was shattered. I had made too many assumptions, about you and about myself, and now I knew it. I couldn't take the chance of defending you, because I no longer trusted my own judgment. I had been fooled by my own arrogance and swayed by my love for you. How could I be trusted to be objective anymore? How could I know I wasn't appealing on your behalf to save face for myself, or to spare you pain, rather than because it was the right thing to do or I was destined to do so?"

 

He sighed, glanced away in shame, even as Tai Lung stared at him wonderingly; he had never heard Shifu be this candid about himself, admitting to such glaringly ugly yet very human faults. "It was selfish of me, I know, but I couldn't take the chance of being controlled by my emotions…so in the end, I pushed you into that same trap instead."

 

Before Tai Lung could do more than raise a paw questioningly—uncertain himself whether he meant to offer it in a comforting shoulder pat or turn it into a fist to smash the panda's face in—his master stood up straight and true, locking his blue eyes onto the snow leopard's golden ones. "However, I am afraid I also had one other compelling reason…one which would have led to the exact same decision, even if I still trusted myself completely and your darkness were not a factor. I did not defend you to Master Oogway because I knew he was right: you could never be the Dragon Warrior, at least not at that time…either I had failed in your training, or you did not heed my lessons, because you seemed to have forgotten what it means to be a true hero."

 

Silence again descended over the Hall of Warriors, almost as if the sacred artifacts and the masters who had once owned them were all watching, sitting in judgment, waiting with bated breath to see whether the breach between master and son would now be healed, or would widen to an impassable distance. Into that quiet, Tai Lung said coldly, putting every ounce of his offended dignity into it, "What are you talking about?"

 

The red panda did not flinch, only continued gazing into the face looming above him. "It is quite simple, really. A true hero, especially one such as the Dragon Warrior, does not only require a pure heart…he must be completely selfless. He must choose to aid the needy, the injured, the oppressed, and those whose lives are in danger, because it is the right thing to do. Not because he expects any reward for it, monetary or otherwise."

 

"Yes, yes," Tai Lung snapped. "I _know_ that, Shifu. Since when did I _ever_ ask for, or assume, any reward for anything I did growing up, in or outside the Valley?"

 

"You did not," the panda agreed. "In that respect, you were a consummate warrior, noble, good-hearted, and truly heroic. But you have neglected one thing…the most important thing of all. What was your reason for seeking the Dragon Scroll, that which you have continually drummed into my head and anyone else's who will listen to you?"

 

"To make a name for myself, to prove myself worthy even though I didn't have a family or ancestors," he responded automatically. "And to earn your—" He broke off…his throat actually locked up as the truth finally dawned on him—so shockingly painful but also so incredibly obvious he felt like slamming his head repeatedly into a pillar. _Idiot! **Idiot!**_

 

Shifu, thankfully, did not lord it over him, nor do anything as petty as gloating or patronizing him. Instead he only kept that same unblinking gaze on him, eyes sadder and more sympathetic than Tai Lung had ever believed they could be. "Yes. You sought the Dragon Scroll in order to achieve a place for yourself in the world, to receive honor instead of the mistreatment and rejection given to orphans. And above all, you wanted it because you thought it would give you my love, make me proud of you. But those were still rewards, Tai Lung. They were admirable, even beautiful goals…but they were selfish all the same."

 

Now, finally, the snow leopard let himself fall to his knees in front of Shifu. Fighting the urge to tear at his fur, he instead buried his face in his paws and shook his head—slowly at first, then more violently, trying to dispel what had penetrated his understanding. But he couldn't…because even now, he recalled a snatch of barely remembered words, once spoken by Oogway, floating back to him out of the past: _"Love is a gift, my boy, not a reward, and one that is granted freely, never earned. Do not focus on the ripeness of the summer peach, and forget to notice the spring blossoms. What you seek is often right before your eyes, if you but have the wisdom to see it."_

 

The panda was speaking again, however. "There is nothing wrong with these desires, Tai Lung. They are normal, they are things all children wish of their parents, all people wish from one another. If you did not want them, there would be something wrong with you. It simply means that you could not be the Dragon Warrior, not until you sought it so as to aid others, not for its own sake and what it could bring you.

 

" _That_ is why I did not speak up on your behalf. Because I knew the only way you could ever prove yourself worthy and change Oogway's mind was if you removed all selfish desires from your heart. And that would never be, because you would always love me and so seek my love and approval in turn. You could not be the Dragon Warrior, Tai Lung, because _you loved me too much_ , and so could not let me go and place the welfare of others above me."

 

Lifting his head from his paws, the spotted feline stared at Shifu, wondering if his expression looked as ravaged as he felt…it was as if he'd been kicked in the abdomen and had the wind knocked out of him. At long last, he understood. How could he have been so blind, so misguided, so stupid? He had indeed lost sight of what it meant to be a hero…and everything, everything that had happened was his own damn fault. Guilt, shame, and anguish washed over him.

 

Yet Shifu didn't look angry, scornful, or contemptuous. In fact his expression was so tender and caring Tai Lung had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Very gently, he reached out and laid his tiny hand against the snow leopard's furry cheek. "Don't blame yourself, Tai Lung. It is my fault too. I'm the one who spoiled you, after all. And sent you very mixed signals, about our relationship as well as the scroll.

 

"But it's all right. You don't have to hate yourself anymore. Because you can still be a hero, and a great warrior, all while still loving me. Don't think about what you've lost, but what you've gained. You may not have a pure enough heart to be the Dragon Warrior, but I don't care about that. All I care about is that it was pure enough to still love an old fool like me."

 

Something seemed to seize up inside him—he realized it was his heart pressing against his chest—and then the feline lurched forward, giving in to instinct and impulse…his brawny arms encircling the aged panda with deceptive gentleness, even as he pressed him tightly to his chest, hugging him as close as he dared. As he did so, he could feel the sobs beginning, the tears welling up…and for the first time in his life, he didn't try to stop them, to sustain his masculine image.

 

He had a flash of himself as a cub in the training hall, the first time he had punched one of the Wooden Crocodiles too hard and at the wrong angle—breaking all of his knuckles and spraining his wrist in the bargain. He'd sat on the floor of the kwoon, nursing his injuries and on the verge of tears, when Shifu had appeared to reprimand him. It had not been harsh, but it had been firm as he told his son two fateful words: "Don't cry." Because men, especially those training to be kung fu fighters and Dragon Warriors, did not cry.

 

He had taken that imposition to heart—as he had told Po and Mantis during the acupuncture session, never once showing his emotions no matter how much pain and abuse he heaped upon himself during training.

 

But this time, just this once, he thought: _To hell with what he taught me_.

 

And as his body shook with the wracking spasms and the tears he wept poured unchecked down his cheeks, he whispered in Shifu's ear: "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry, Father…for everything…"

 

"I know," the panda whispered back, leaning against his heaving chest. "I know you are. That's why I forgive you, son."

 

The two of them didn't end that embrace, or move apart, for a very long time.

 

                                                                       

* * *

 

In the passageway which led from the Hall of Warriors toward the western wing of the palace, and from there to the bunkhouse of the Furious Five, a single figure stood in the shadows watching the tender reconciliation. From the way her shoulders heaved, her paws clenched, and her chest rose and fell, it would not have been possible to guess how she felt about what she saw—jealous or deeply moved, angry or awed.

 

Whatever her thoughts and emotions, Tigress only watched for a few moments more…and then, whether to give father and son their privacy or because she couldn't stand to witness it any longer, she fled for her dormitory room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tai Lung's musical talent was a brainstorm I had after reading Luna's "Present"—I liked the idea of him having some artistic side but she'd already used drawing. And it gave me a perfect way to explain where Shifu got his flute, which in turn makes the fact he still has it and plays it after Tai Lung went to prison both meaningful and poignant. If anyone wonders, the tune he's playing is what I call 'Tai Lung's Theme', the tune which plays almost every time we see him in the movie, one of the most memorable being when he first appeared before Shifu for the final battle. It just seemed too fitting... The picture I've included of this scene, BTW, is also the art I commissioned to be this fic's cover art.
> 
> I also included an insight about Tai Lung and why he didn't accept Shifu's apology, one which I freely acknowledge as being the brain child of a Wild Mass Guessing over at TV Tropes. The reason for this, aside from it being so clearly true to Tai Lung's character, is that it makes the whole story even more sad and tragic. That Tai Lung had become so cynical and jaded by what he'd been through, he couldn't even believe that the thing he'd wanted all his life was real when it was finally offered to him...it really fits the drama quotient of my story, as well as Tai Lung's characterization and, IMO anyway, his actual canon characterization too. The same as the bit about his declaration of "It's nothing!" when he looked into the Dragon Scroll applying also to himself. Just me acknowledging the wisdom of other viewers, as well as weaving it all together to make Tai Lung's choices and character arc make more sense.


	22. A Talk with the Dragon Warrior

 

 

"Tai Lung, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for the things I said. It wasn't right of me to accuse you of hurting the Dragon Warrior, especially after how you were actually the one to save his life. I only hope you can forgive me." Tigress's paws were together as she bowed, rather jerkily.

 

"Quite all right, Master Tigress. I know it must have looked rather bad from where you stood, which is just what the Wu Sisters wanted. Let's let bygones be bygones, shall we? Fighting and holding grudges—that's what got me into trouble in the first place, and it's what our enemies would love us all to keep doing." Similarly, the snow leopard bowed in return, even bending down awkwardly on one knee. His voice seemed artificially deeper.

 

From the side, Crane and Viper suddenly thrust themselves into the scene. "He's right," the avian intoned sagely. "Our best defense is to form a united front against the villains behind all this. We need to lay aside our differences and join all our strength as one." His head bobbed unevenly, until his hat almost fell off. Po absently straightened it.

 

"Yes!" the serpent breathed fervently. "Love and friendship, that's always the key, focus on that, and there's no way we can lose! Our _chi_ will be strong enough to blast those Wu Sisters all the way back to the Himalayas, or wherever they came from." Oddly, her voice was less dulcet and gentle, more…squeaky, almost a falsetto.

 

"What they said," Mantis chimed in, stabbing back and forth with his…thingies…to emphasize his point.

 

"Besides," Monkey added, his accent much thicker than usual, "you really are awesome, Tai Lung. We should hang out."

 

"Yeah!" Po himself finally burst out in his own voice, his chubby, black-furred fingers pushing his own figure into a mass group hug with those of Tai Lung and the Furious Five. "This is the way it should be, we're gonna kick their butts and all be the greatest heroes in China, ever!"

 

There was a long pause, as the panda gazed down at the wooden action figures gathered together on the bedside table between his paws. Then he groaned and slumped forward, his forehead landing with a soft _thunk_. "Who am I kiddin'? It's never gonna happen that way. Give it up already!"

 

It was now two weeks since he had nearly lost his life to the Wu Sisters, nine days since they'd made it back to the Jade Palace, and four days since Tai Lung's clandestine visit to the peach tree on the night of the full moon. During that time, everything had changed—and at the same time, nothing at all.

 

On the one paw, between Mantis's tending, the doctor's tonic, and Tai Lung's strict enforcement of bed rest and recovery time, Po's throat had finally healed, at least to the point his bandages didn't need to be replaced anymore—though he would retain a rasp in his voice for quite some time, perhaps even for the rest of his life. And ever since Oogway's staff had been repaired, the news that Tai Lung had been communing with the Grand Master's spirit and had reconciled with Shifu had spread among all the residents of the palace, courtesy of the still slightly dazed red panda and a resentful Tigress.

 

Reactions had been varied, from Crane and Viper's awe, to Mantis's almost complete lack of surprise, to Monkey's startlingly infuriated offense—somehow the langur seemed to view the snow leopard daring to even approach the turtle's spirit, let alone speak with him, as sacrilegious. As far as Po was concerned, though, it was one of the most encouraging and heartwarming things he had yet learned about his friend, for while the panda had hardly been close to the Grand Master, he would never forget the compassion and kindness he had shown to the bear that night under the peach tree. And of course he had nothing but respect for the creator of kung fu, even if he had like everyone else doubted the tortoise's wisdom in choosing him as the Dragon Warrior.

 

So to know that Tai Lung had been meeting with him, had helped repair the staff he had broken, and had also mended the broken bond with Shifu was, quite simply, almost unbelievable and, well, _awesome_. Considering the denial of the Dragon Scroll, and how long Tai Lung had been blaming Oogway for ruining his life, the whole thing made Po tear up a little to contemplate—finally the snow leopard could have the relationship with his adopted grandfather he should have had and was meant to have!—not to mention want to offer one of those hugs he loved to give, felt the ex-convict badly needed no matter how much he refused to admit it, and unfortunately was rarely allowed to do…

 

But in any event, now at last neither Monkey nor Tigress could deny this endorsement prevented any further suspicions about the feline's character or trustworthiness. If the one who had prophesied his fall from grace had now accepted him back with open arms, who were they to gainsay his insight?

 

Yet Po was fairly certain that despite all this, despite the very strong, cogent, legitimate reasons why they should not, both the leader of the Five and the simian secretly still harbored an unyielding hatred for Tai Lung whatever their outward actions—and he despaired at ever getting this fact to change. Not for the first time, he wished the real Furious Five were as easy to make get along with the snow leopard as their action figures were.

 

The fact Tigress at least had seemed on the verge of accepting and trusting Tai Lung before Yunxian…and that now, thanks to the Wu Sisters, her walls were higher than ever and the spotted feline was back to square one with her, made the panda want to tear his fur out in his frustration.

 

Of course, it wasn't as if Tai Lung himself were a paragon of perfection (whatever he thought to the contrary) and only Tigress had to change her ways. For one thing, just because the snow leopard and Shifu had buried their tragic past and resolved to be a true father and son again didn't mean all friction between them had vanished. Like any parent and child, especially adult ones, there continued to be points of contention, old arguments resurrected periodically, the sarcasm and caustic wit which could only stem from two who had known each other for so very long.

 

At times it was amusing, even endearing, such as when Tai Lung and Shifu would get into it over such apparently well-gnawed bones as there being too much silver-gray fur being shed all over the temple or the snow leopard disputing just when it was his turn at kitchen duty. Other times, such as when Shifu tried to pry more information about the Wu Sisters out of his son, or when, after a rainstorm had caused Tai Lung to track mud into the Sacred Hall of Warriors, the red panda had insisted the snow leopard had to mop the marble so clean it could reflect as well as the Moon Pool, were much more volatile and upsetting.

 

And speaking of the assassin trio, no sign of them had yet turned up in the village or anywhere at all in the Valley—and for that matter, the horrendous killer from Yunxian had thankfully not arrived either. Considering the Five and their master had been slowed in their return by having to hoist Po's unconscious body, it begged the question that the unburdened and surely swift snow leopardesses could not have arrived here ahead of them, let alone the unknown killer who was rumored to move with the speed of thought. Which suggested either some other errand had called them away…or more likely, they were already in the Valley, nearby, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

 

Just thinking about the Wu Sisters, and how they were possibly spying on the palace, poised to cut down innocent villagers whenever the whim struck them, made Po's blood boil. The assassins were responsible for nearly killing him, and pinning the blame on Tai Lung so that all his hard work had been undone. _Damn, do I ever want a rematch!_

 

But that would never happen until he had made some major improvements in his kung fu skills. Now that he was finally well enough to do so, however, he was rather torn about who would teach him—both Tigress and Tai Lung had offered to train him, though the latter might have been a joke. Both could teach him incredible things. Tigress had practically forbidden him to study with the snow leopard—and while he wasn't foolhardy enough to deliberately do so precisely because he'd been told not to (that was more Tai Lung's sort of thing), Po was willing to risk her wrath if it would make him a stronger warrior.

 

Not that he doubted Tigress's ability to prepare him, but he had the feeling she might be more interested in outdoing Tai Lung than actually training him. And for all the striped feline's bullheadedness, stern demeanor, and unwavering commitment to kung fu, the panda felt his former enemy might actually be better for the job.

 

Not only was he likely to be even harsher and stricter than Tigress, but Tai Lung simply knew more of the thousand scrolls than Tigress did. He had more knowledge which could conceivably help Po progress as a warrior, he wouldn't be afraid to use it, he would be even less likely to hold back in his training methods…yet the fact they were becoming friends meant the snow leopard would know when to pull back, would not go too far.

 

And of course, if Tai Lung spent time as a teacher rather than just a student or a guardian warrior, it might change his outlook…show him something else he could do with his life, something that didn't require him to spend almost all his time fighting in actual combat.

 

Po sighed. The only problem with that scenario was, what if passing over Tigress to train with Tai Lung put their friendship on the rocks again? Not to mention it practically guaranteed the striped feline's hatred would be solidified. Then there'd be no way she and Tai Lung would ever end up together…something which, while it seemed manifestly impossible now, the panda still thought would fix so much and be so good for both the cats' lives.

 

Looking down at the action figures again, he took the one of Tai Lung (which he had secretly sent Mei Ling to 'borrow' for him from the snow leopard's room) in one paw, the one of Tigress in the other. Then, screwing his brow up in thought, he placed both of them very close together on the table.

 

 

"Tigress, I know you believe I'm just murderous scum, but believe me when I say I can't live without you. You give me something to fight for, a reason to stay on the right path, a chance at a good life. I love you. You're my moon, my sun, my starlit sky. Without you, I dwell in darkness."

 

"You've dwelled in darkness too long," he said in his best imitation of Tigress's voice, moving the figures even closer together. "It's my duty as a kung fu warrior to bring you out, so you can never harm the Valley or threaten the peace again. But…I don't know if I can. I want you too much, there must be something wrong with me."

 

"Why do you say that?" He was rather proud of himself at getting just the right tone of slyness and faint arrogance.

 

"Because…because you're evil. This isn't right, I must resist you!" He pulled Tigress away.

 

Yet Tai Lung 'pursued' her. "No, don't fight it, we were simply meant to be! And evil can't be resisted…er, I mean, you will save me from my evil! Yes, Tigress, I know you can feel it in your heart. You must love me, be my bride!"

 

"No, no I won't!" She leaned away, her wooden arms flung up to ward him away. Po grinned to himself, starting to get just a little too into his 'hypothetical' situation.

 

"Yes!"

 

"No!" she cried desperately.

 

"Yes!"

 

"No!"

 

"No!" he sneakily slipped in.

 

"Yes!"

 

"No!"

 

" _Yes!_ "

 

The action figures were by now in each other's arms, awkwardly doing their best imitation of a kiss. After a few long moments of silence, Po frowned and coughed discreetly, feeling far too flushed for his own good. A quick adjustment, and he made Tai Lung's wooden paw rest against Tigress's cheek. "Oh, Tigress…you're the most beautiful woman in the whole Valley of Peace."

 

He nudged her to return the gesture. "And your fur is… _so_ soft…"

 

A very long pause. And then a voice suddenly spoke behind him.

 

"Panda, what are you doing?"

 

"Ahhhhh!" Shrieking in surprise, Po clutched at the action figures in both paws, hurriedly concealing them in the tightly wrapped curve of his arms as he glanced furtively over his shoulder.

 

It was, of course, Tai Lung standing there in the doorway of his dormitory room, and while he leaned casually against the jamb with his arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow quirked oddly, something in his expression told the panda he'd seen more than he bargained for…more than Po wanted him to see.

 

"Don't… _do_ that, Tai!" Panting and shuddering as he felt his heart thud wildly in his chest, the panda took several long moments to calm down, and only when he felt confident his voice wouldn't squeak or crack did he speak again. "Ya gotta knock before ya come bargin' in like that, ya know…anyway, what's up?"

 

The snow leopard's face didn't lose its strange look, even as he pushed off the jamb and stepped into the room. "Well, I simply came to tell you I couldn't sleep, and I was hungry, so I wondered if you'd come down to the kitchen and help me out with a little cooking. Viper has some recipe or other she insists I try out, and you are the resident expert on that sort of thing."

 

Extremely relieved it was something so simple and safe, Po smiled and nodded firmly, rapidly. "Sure thing, Tai, sounds like a good idea to me." As he struggled to lift himself up off the floor, he managed to get the drawer of the bedside table open, unobtrusively swipe all the action figures into it, then close it again—all while blocking the ex-convict's view with his body, a feat which pleased him more than it really should have. Turning back, he met Tai Lung's golden eyes, saw the knowing look and slight smirk about his lips, and clasped his paws together nervously. "Uh…you didn't see anythin', right?"

 

"No, panda," the snow leopard reassured him with a carefully modulated tone. "I didn't see you playing with your dolls." He seemed uncertain whether to sneer or burst out laughing.

 

Wincing mid-step as he moved toward the door to join his fellow master, Po closed his eyes for a few moments, then screwed open first one and then the other to accusingly meet Tai Lung's gaze. "…They're _action figures_ ," he muttered, very insistent on that point.

 

Stepping aside to grant the panda passage into the bunkhouse hallway, the spotted feline said nothing, but the soft snicker which became a low, dark laugh said everything for him. Po wondered futilely if there was any place on the Jade Mountain, or in the whole Valley, large enough for him to hide in…and preferably not come out again for decades.

 

When they arrived at the kitchen, the panda saw from the thick shadows cloaking the room, and the silvery light of the waning full moon rippling on the steps and terraces of the mountain, that it was near midnight. Much later than he would normally be awake, but thanks to all the rest he'd had to endure while healing, his sleeping schedule had become rather out of whack. Tai Lung, of course, was nocturnal by nature, though if he was having trouble sleeping there must be something on his mind. _Duh, there's a lotta stuff goin' on. It'd be enough t' make anyone toss an' turn._

 

They had the room all to themselves. While Po built a fire in the flue to add cheerful warmth to the rather chill chamber, the snow leopard started gathering ingredients from the cupboards. As he did so, he gestured over his shoulder at a roll of parchment he'd laid on the table. "That's Viper's recipe right there, see what you make of it."

 

Po scanned the lines quickly. "Rice custard? But that's, like, the simplest thing! It's so easy, a cub could make it!"

 

He turned, only to find himself met by a flat, level gaze and a rather severe crossing of spotted arms over that creamy white chest. For a moment he thought Tai Lung was going to snarl at him; as it was, he certainly sounded rather peeved. "Pardon me, panda. Broth can't run in _everyone's_ veins. And anything's difficult the first time you do it."

 

The feline had a point. "All right, I get ya," he said soothingly, holding both paws up. "Say no more, buddy. I'll show ya how it's done. First, you get those eggs cracked and start beatin' 'em. I'll get the rice an' sugar."

 

Po had thought that, after everything he'd been through and the streak of pride as wide as the Valley that he'd nurtured, Tai Lung would refuse instruction from him, no matter how much twenty years of kung fu training might have made it habitual to obey. But other than a disgruntled clenching of his jaw and a soft snort, the snow leopard did exactly as he was told to do, and soon enough the eggs were becoming a lovely, frothy liquid in the mixing bowl. For a worrisome moment, he'd been afraid Tai Lung's legendary strength would break the pottery or separate the eggs, but he'd forgotten the precision the feline needed to perform his nerve strike—once he was shown how, he knew just how much force and speed to put into his whisking motions.

 

The panda, meanwhile, fetched a rickety stepladder to get the sugar and rice, which were kept high up atop the cupboards to be out of reach of vermin. Unfortunately, between his ungainly weight throwing him off-balance and the slight unsteadiness he still suffered from on occasion, Po soon found himself in a very precarious position. And just as he got his paws on the two sacks he sought, he could already feel himself starting to fall. "Wh-whoa!"

 

Hurriedly he clutched at the cupboard—but although he succeeded in catching himself, that left him without one paw free. End result: while he clutched the bag of rice under one arm, he wasn't able to stop the sugar from toppling toward the floor. "Aw, nuts!"

 

Suddenly, Tai Lung was there, without Po even seeing him move. What was truly impressive, though, wasn't the speed with which he came to the rescue, but the fact that he had the wrong paw free—a problem he solved by abruptly switching the whisk from his right paw to the left…without even breaking the rhythm of his beating.

 

Blinking, the Dragon Warrior carefully descended the ladder to safety again, absently taking the bag of sugar from the ex-convict's proffered grip. "Tai…I didn't know ya knew how t' do things two-handed! I thought you were a lefty, but you're ambi—ambi—"

 

"Ambidextrous. That's right, panda. It's a fairly useful skill to have in combat, you know. A lot of weapons require different moves and angles depending on which hand you hold them in, so if you can master all of them that gives you a lot more options to work with." He grinned—not smugly, but with a knowing confidence. "Not to mention, it's a damned good way to fool your enemy, if you can switch hands in the middle of a fight."

 

Po set the rice down on the counter, rubbed at the back of his neck, and shook his head. "Wow. Just when I thought you couldn't get any cooler…the more I learn about you, Tai, the more awesome you get."

 

"Damn straight." But when the snow leopard glanced over his shoulder, he was smirking lopsidedly and gave a very exaggerated wink—that had actually been a joke, not true arrogance. "Seriously, panda, it's nothing to write home to Mother about. A lot of people can train themselves to be good with both paws. It's fortunate I did though; it let me keep active even while my right paw was healing after our…"

 

He trailed off, feigning an intense interest in the stirring eggs, but Po knew at once what he was referring to and couldn't fight the twinge of guilt he felt. Tai Lung wouldn't appreciate him bringing it out in the open again, though, so instead he busied himself with getting the pan and the rest of the ingredients.

 

Neither of them said another word after that, except for a few brief exchanges regarding when it was the right time to add the milk and sugar, or how much rice was enough. Only after the creamy white mixture was baking and the dishes and utensils had been washed beneath the pump did Po feel ready to disturb the silence with more conversation. But as he sat down at the table to wait for the dessert to cook, interlacing his fingers and trying to think of what to say, it was Tai Lung who spoke first.

 

"Well, perhaps that wasn't so bad after all." The corner of the snow leopard's mouth twitched. "Though perhaps I should wait to make sure the oven doesn't explode first before I relax."

 

Po laughed ruefully. "Naw, don't worry about it. Everything'll be fine. That's the nice thing about cookin', ya know? As long as ya just follow the instructions, it always turns out just right in the end. Kinda comfortin', really."

 

Tai Lung snorted, although there wasn't much force behind it for once. "Too bad the same can't be said for people."

 

"Um. Yeah." _Okaaay. Scratch 'try to cheer Tai up' off my list of things to do. Guess he's a glass half-empty guy, huh?_ He didn't know if the snow leopard had been referring to himself, his former enemy, or even Tigress when he hinted at people who didn't do as they were told, but he decided to shoulder the burden—since he had something he had to get off his chest. "Anyway…look, Tai. I need to know…were you serious before, when ya offered to teach me?"

 

For a moment the snow leopard blinked and looked at him oddly, but then he nodded and shrugged, crossing his arms on the table in front of him. "Of course. I never say things I don't mean." When Po eyed him dubiously, he chuckled apologetically. "All right, sometimes I do. But I wasn't being sarcastic then. If you're going to survive another brush with the Wu Sisters, let alone any other kung fu battles, then you've got to put your nose to the grindstone and learn as much as you can from the scrolls, as fast as you can. And no one knows them better than I do."

 

To the panda's surprise, and distinct pleasure, Tai Lung's tone as he said this was simply a statement of fact, not bragging. Still, his muzzle did twist in a smirk as he added, "Let's just say I don't intend to be saving your arse every time I turn around, panda."

 

He was adopting his usual disparaging and contemptuous attitude, but Po wasn't fooled for an instant. Even aside from the fact he heard wry humor rather than true venom in his voice, as if Tai Lung had resigned himself to his new lot in life whatever he said to the contrary, he'd watched the feline very carefully ever since first awaking back at the Jade Palace—especially when he was feigning sleep and the snow leopard didn't know he was looking.

 

And after seeing his former enemy performing mundane, monotonous tasks to take care of him; sitting by his bedside for hours on end, regaling him with tales of his heroic exploits or even hilarious anecdotes from Shifu's youth that Oogway had told him once upon a time; changing his dressing and preparing his food; and overall hovering protectively over him night and day…there was no way Po could deny the truth. For whatever reason, whether out of guilt and conscience compelling him, loneliness at having been solitary for so long, or a sense of responsibility he wished to absolve so he could move on and be free, Tai Lung was coming to care for him and view him as a friend.

 

The thought brought a lump to his throat—not only because he was positive he was the first real friend the snow leopard had had in his life, but because Tai Lung was also _his_ first real friend, aside from Viper and later the rest of the Five. There'd been plenty of cubs for him to play with growing up, but at the same time he'd always been subtly and carefully encouraged not to spend much time fraternizing.

 

He was different; there were no other giant pandas in the Valley of Peace, his appearance there had been almost as much of a mystery as Tai Lung's twenty years before that. He was not dangerous, but the timid, shy sheep, goats, and rabbits of the village had seemed unwilling to take chances with one who swiftly became much larger than they.

 

In the end, he'd really only had his father…and by the time the village did accept him, it was only as Ping's apprentice chef and server at the noodle shop—in other words, just the guy who brought them their food and could be chewed out when he spilled their order, got it wrong, or wasn't fast enough to suit them. And his pig friends had never really socialized with him outside the noodle shop...not to mention the way they—like everyone else—had turned on Po, when the Dragon Scroll was blank and he seemed powerless to stop Tai Lung, rather showed the true lack of depth in their fair-weather relationship. In a way, he'd been alone too. 

 

Not for the first time, Po reflected—a trifle uneasily—on just how eerily similar that made him and Tai Lung. As he had said in the snow leopard's cell almost a month ago, if either of them had made slightly different choices, they could have had each other's lives…though somehow he doubted he'd have been able to master the thousand scrolls or Tai Lung would have settled for such a lowly job as a noodle chef. Still…only the gods and Oogway knew for sure why there were so many similarities between them and what it all meant.

 

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, as the feline was clearly struggling not to drum his fingers impatiently on the table top and Po struggled just as hard not to drool at the delicious aromas of the baking dessert wafting from the oven, at last the panda sighed.

 

"Well…I really don't want ya t' have t' save my butt either. I am supposed t' be the Dragon Warrior, after all. And you're absolutely right…I'm one of those guys who ain't been followin' instructions, or hasn't gotten anywhere even when I did. So…what I'm sayin' is, I wanna follow yours. I want you t' be my Master, an' teach me as much as you can."

 

Once more, nothing was said for a few moments, and then Tai Lung propped his chin up on one paw and regarded him candidly with that familiar smirk. "Now, if I felt like being cruel, panda, there are _so_ many things I could say to that. But I will say this: you're damn right you need instruction. You may have beaten me, panda, but your skills are still so limited there's no way in hell you'll be able to survive another serious combat like that, let alone become a real master."

 

The look on the feline's face changed to one of intensity, determination, and genuine worry. "Tigress is right—the things you did against the sisters? They're not going to work. You may have been able to fumble your way through our fight and end up making me look like a fool, but this time the only one who looked clownish was you. And it almost got you killed. Next time you meet them, you have to be properly ready."

 

Crestfallen, Po couldn't meet the snow leopard's gaze as he stared at the old wooden table and wrung his paws together. He knew Tai Lung was right. Any time he might be tempted to brush his failure aside, all he had to do was recall just how painful his defeat by Xiu had been: she'd caught the apples he'd thrown at her on the point of a deadly-looking dagger, or else sliced them in two with her fire wheel with only a flick of her wrist; turned the weapon about to pummel his ribs mercilessly from both sides; kicked him so hard in the stomach he'd doubled over, barely able to breathe; and smashed him in the face with the iron weight of her own meteor hammer.

 

Yes, there was no way he could defeat her with only the rudimentary knowledge and laughable 'instincts' he possessed. And it mattered to him more than anything to defeat her—not out of revenge, although the fact her attempt to kill him had also almost cost Tai Lung everything the snow leopard had been working so hard for was rather infuriating, but because it was the right thing to do…and it was the only way to prove to everyone, most of all himself, that his victory over the ex-convict had not just been a fluke.

 

At that moment, the panda's thoughts were interrupted as he sniffed the air and detected the faint aroma of milk starting to burn. Hurriedly he went to the oven and fetched his thickly padded mitts, taking the custard out of the heat before it could scald any further. Steam wafted up, and he swiftly flapped it away with one mitt as he leaned over to smell the dish. "Got it just in time…mmm, smells good, Tai. Looks like Viper's got a great family recipe. So why'd you wanna make this, anyway?"

 

The snow leopard grumbled inaudibly from behind him. "What was that? Didn't hear ya, bud."

 

Tai Lung sighed. "I said, desserts have always been my favorites, my one vice. Didn't get many luxuries here at the palace growing up, and sweets were rather expensive. One of the few ways Shifu didn't spoil me, I suppose. But…I missed them. Viper found out, and the rest is history."

 

Po chuckled and shook his head as he brought the pan over to the table to cool, then fetched plates and spoons. "Ahhhh, so _that's_ who's been breakin' into my stash."

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," the snow leopard sniffed, affecting disdain.

 

"Lemme see, I've been missin' a lotta molasses bars, an' these cookies my dad bought from a trader who came across the ocean—what were they called, cocoa? They're to die for, I'll give ya that. But ya didn't have to steal 'em, bud, you could've just asked."

 

A few moments more Tai Lung tried to take the moral high road, but then at last he deflated and sighed. "Fine, I did take them, what's it to you? So it's one more crime to add to my account. Somehow I don't think it'll shock Shifu, and even Tigress can't hate me anymore than she already does." The snow leopard looked rather distressed and despondent at this admission.

 

Po reached out and set his paw on Tai Lung's. "Hey. I said it was okay, don't ya believe me? I was just teasin'…you can have anythin' ya want from my treats, panda's honor. It's the least I can do for you after you saved my life. I only wish I had a better way t' repay ya for trainin' me."

 

"Just don't lose any more blood for my sake, and show those _lovely_ ladies what for the next time you face them, and we can call it even."

 

For an instant, the panda was tempted to ask Tai Lung just what the connection was between him and the Wu Sisters—however much the ex-convict denied it, he knew there was more to it than simply having met before. There was far too much venom in the words they'd exchanged, as well as discomfort and evasiveness in their interactions, for there not to be a very personal element to it all. But he knew better than to press the snow leopard on it, at least right now. Instead, after blowing on the custard to cool it, he busied himself with spooning it up onto their plates and handing the dessert out, then settled back down in his chair to sample his own creation.

 

Time passed slowly as the two of them shared the custard, with both of them silently marveling at how delicious the dish had turned out to be—or at least, Po knew he'd done a good job with the recipe and was quite pleased with himself; he could only guess Tai Lung's opinion based on the fact he didn't spit it out in disgust. In fact he devoured the dessert so rapidly the panda had to blink in disbelief. When the feline saw the Dragon Warrior looking at him oddly, he actually looked sheepish. "Er…it's good?"

 

"Yeah, I kinda got that impression."

 

Tai Lung shot him a sullen look. "Well, it's better than prison food, anyway. _Much_ better. Miles better." He sighed. "Who am I kidding…yours is the best I've ever had. Is there anything you _can't_ cook, panda?"

 

Po squirmed in his chair at this high praise, both because he wasn't used to such treatment from anyone let alone the snow leopard, and because he still didn't feel he deserved it. But he chuckled uncertainly. "Uh…sea urchin? My dad could never afford it, and anyway…there's enough people with prickly personalities around here already, if ya know what I mean."

 

Startled, the snow leopard gazed at him blankly for a few moments, then burst out laughing. "Now _that_ was a good one, Dragon Warrior…fine, fine, I'm working on it, all right? Though I hope you know I'm never going to be polite and well-mannered." He made a face. "I know how to play the role if I have to, you wouldn't believe the intricate little dance of formality they make you perform in the Imperial City. But it's just not my thing."

 

The panda grinned openly at him, privately relieved his former enemy hadn't taken his words as an insult again. "Never said it was. And just because you need to turn your life around doesn't mean ya have t' change everything about yourself. I kinda hope you don't. You really are too cool."

 

"Stop it, panda, you're embarrassing me." And indeed, Tai Lung was blushing—unless that was a flush of shame, as he almost immediately averted his gaze and clasped his paws tightly on the tabletop. "It…it means a lot to me that somebody still remembers when I was a hero…and believes I can be again. But I certainly don't deserve all this praise, panda."

 

Deciding not to dispute that point, particularly since as long as Tai Lung believed that, he wasn't in danger of backsliding, Po instead took another tack. "Well there is one thing I know ya deserve. My apology."

 

Tai Lung was the one to blink now, which frankly surprised Po. True, everything that had happened since they found the murdered goat near Yunxian would have likely driven it from his mind, and he had indeed grown and changed so much since their battle, but the panda had been certain this was something the snow leopard would never forget, or forgive. "And that would be for…?"

 

Po sighed. "For what happened during the Truth or Dare game. It was bad enough that I humiliated ya during the real fight…to bring it up again, and make fun of ya too…that was uncalled for, unfair, an' just plain mean-spirited, even if it wasn't my idea. So, I wanted t' apologize for that."

 

That was what had been on his mind the entire time, and only weighing on it more and more as their conversation continued—the more Tai Lung earnestly suggested that the Dragon Warrior needed more training, and that he was the only one who could give it; the more he accepted the panda as a friend and companion; and the more amazing things the ex-convict proved capable of, the worse Po felt for how he had inadvertently treated the snow leopard.

 

"I also wanted to thank you," he added after a few more uncomfortable moments. "I mean, you looked so upset with me, but you just made me do that dare of touching my toes, and it really wasn't so bad. Really, it was pretty cool of ya to take it that well."

 

To his surprise, Tai Lung spread his paws in a magnanimous gesture. "You're welcome. What's past is past, after all."

 

"Totally!" Inwardly, he began to relax, grinning in what he knew was a goofy fashion—if the snow leopard was going to accept his apology and forgive him so easily, then maybe the worst was past. Maybe now, they could get to the important work of repairing the damage the Wu Sisters had done, so he could be accepted at the Jade Palace again. There was no way even Tigress could twist the way Tai Lung was acting into some clever pose to mislead them.

 

However, he hadn't counted on the fact that just because Tai Lung wasn't lying to him didn't mean he was giving away all his true motivations either. Because, even as he leaned forward on one arm, scooping up more custard and suckling it from the spoon with a murmur of appreciation, he added, thoughtfully, "But you're not off the hook yet."

 

Po went still, swallowing hard. "Not...off the hook?" He couldn't keep the apprehension from his voice.

 

Tai Lung raised an eyebrow knowingly. "Just because I took it better than I normally would doesn't mean I've forgotten about it. After such a humiliation? Oh no, you still owe me, panda."

 

Closing his eyes, the panda fought the urge to bury his face in his paws. He should have known, really. And truth be told, it wasn't just that he should have expected this…it was actually fitting, even deserving. Humiliating Tai Lung had been the only way to win their combat; that didn't make it right, or keep the snow leopard from being absolutely justified in retaining a certain resentment. And the fact the ex-convict had forgiven him for what happened during the Truth or Dare, and admitted his own response had also gone too far, didn't keep the mockery from hurting. _There's a reason someone thought up 'forgiven, not forgotten'._

 

It was only fair…and as long as Tai Lung wasn't too malicious about it, it would probably even be acceptable. As long as it didn't involve more cracks about his weight. Pandas were supposed to be this big, after all, and it had certainly come in handy and caused the feline to underestimate him during their battle…

 

Still, Po rather thought he could be excused for suddenly losing his appetite so that he couldn't finish his own custard. Wringing his paws as unobtrusively as possible, he rocked a little in his chair. "So, um...what kind of...payback...do ya have in mind?"

 

Tai Lung smirked, confident and suggestive. "Let's keep that a surprise, shall we?"

 

Po watched with a sinking sensation as the snow leopard rose and carried their dishes to the sink to be washed later, a definite bounce in his step and jutting thrust to his chest. When he turned around again and winked, his golden eyes burning molten and intense beneath his brows, the panda knew his number was up.

 

"Anyway…it's late, so we won't be able to do much, but there's no time like the present, eh? Let's find somewhere to train." He rubbed his paws together almost gleefully, chuckling darkly. "I can't wait to get started."

 

Po's heart sank all the way down past his stomach and settled somewhere in his feet. _Not again. Like father, like son…hoo boy. Well, you did ask for it…_ Girding himself for what was to come, he smiled weakly. "Heh-heh…no hurty?"

                                                                       

* * *

 

This late at night, it hardly seemed advisable to slip into the training hall—not only was what Tai Lung had in mind something which required more open space, had nothing to do with honing skills using deadly devices, and in fact would benefit from being approached in a more natural setting, but the quickest way to get to the kwoon would have required them to either go through or past the bunkhouse. The last thing either of them wanted was to wake the Five, especially Tigress or Monkey.

 

So instead, the snow leopard chose to lead the panda out into the garden courtyard behind the Jade Palace: plenty of privacy and quiet, the splendor of the outdoors to commune with, a great deal of land in which to train, and best of all…far enough away from the dormitories that no one would be able to hear the panda scream.

 

Not that he truly had any intention of harming Po, far from it. But as he'd said in the kitchen, it was about time he finally achieved some small measure of revenge against the 'big fat panda'. He was the real Dragon Warrior; he was a good man, a better friend—in fact, better than Tai Lung deserved. But the sort of humiliation he'd dealt out to the snow leopard was something he could never be allowed to get away with.

 

Besides, it would be a hell of a lot of fun dishing it out. And everyone around here, including Po, kept insisting he needed to have more fun in his life…

 

The panda was standing beside a trellis, looking decidedly nervous and worried. "So, um…what did you have in mind, Tai? Like you said, it's pretty late to do anythin' major…"

 

Tai Lung clapped his paws together authoritatively and pierced Po with an unwavering, determined stare that had the bear looking even more unsettled. "Well, seeing as you need a surefire way to defend yourself, something so easy even a cub could do it—" Here he paused with a pointed look until Po had the grace to flush and avert his gaze. "—then I think you need to be trained in weapons."

 

The panda blinked, then his face lit up with the biggest grin he'd yet seen from the bear. "Really? Oh, oh—do I get to use the Sword of Heroes? Or, or, the Invisible Trident of Destiny? Wow—I'd just be _oozin'_ bodacity then! I'd be blindin' everyone with my awesomeness for sure, same as you, Tai!"

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tai Lung groaned. _'Bodacity'? Ugh. How did Shifu do this? How did he train the Dragon Warrior without bloody killing him first?_ "No, no, panda—Po, settle down!" This last was barked out much louder than he'd intended, and even as the bear was cringing back a bit, lip quivering in fear, the snow leopard looked around hurriedly to make sure he'd awoken no one with his outburst.

 

When he was certain they were still alone and undisturbed in the peaceful night, he modulated his voice to a more soothing softness. "Panda, first things first: it's not possible to blind anyone with awesomeness. If it were, everyone I ever fought, including you, wouldn't be seeing anything right about now." As Po's face fell, the snow leopard had to rub the back of his neck as he admitted the truth. "And, er, neither would I, since I've watched both Shifu and Oogway in action…

 

"Anyway, I didn't mean I'm going to start swiping artifacts from the Hall of Warriors for you to spar with." His voice dropped to a mutter. "For one thing, Fath—I mean, Shifu would tan my hide if I even suggested it…" He shook his head and stood up straight as his thoughts organized themselves, as disciplined and orderly as he had always striven for. This was something _he_ was an expert in.

 

But the panda, who had recovered gamely enough from having his fantasy bubble pricked, was still fixated on his own notion of training. "So, out of all of those weapons Master Shifu taught you about, which one's your favorite?"

 

"None of them," he answered immediately. When his friend looked at him skeptically, he had to revise his stance slightly. "Oh very well, if you must know I was always fond of all the various polearms out there. It's one of the reasons I took the Sword of Heroes to WuShon. But that isn't the point, panda. Because really, my body is my deadliest weapon."

 

Po was stunned into a surprised silence, and then he shook his head. "Wow. Your own body is your deadliest weapon? That sounds totally cool, Tai!"

 

"Thank you. And it's true in your case, too. You defeated me, after all." The snow leopard smirked, then flipped a paw dismissively in the direction of the dormitories. "Anyway, if I may continue: I'll leave that sort of weapons training to Tigress and the others." Conscious of the hammer he carried thrust through his belt, as he had ever since returning from Yunxian and reconciling with his father, he remembered, sourly but with reluctant admiration, how Shifu had misled him as to the nature of his new training. He was _not_ going to pull something like that on Po. Well...not entirely.

 

"We're doing something fundamental, a bit more basic—but it's also something that will never fail you, if you're good enough and clever enough. Weapons are all well and good—you've seen what the Wu Sisters can do with them. But after I'm through with you, you won't need weapons. Because you, and everything around you, will be your weapon."

 

Po gave him a very strange look. "Uh…are you sure we're talkin' about the same guy, bud? 'Cause I'm about as dangerous as a bowlful of noodles."

 

Tai Lung chuckled. "Some noodles can be rather deadly, as you showed me during our fight. And that's just the point I was making. One of the biggest reasons I lost against you, panda, is because you weren't fighting the way I was trained. You took advantage of everything around you to bring me down, because you knew the village better than I did, and I was so focused on gaining the scroll I couldn't be bothered to notice anything else. It's the same reason a warrior has the best chance of winning on his home turf, and that an intelligent warrior scouts out an area where he might enter combat well in advance, if at all possible, so he can become familiar with the territory.

 

"It's the sort of thinking that gives you a lot of potential as a fighter, Po," he said seriously, deliberately using the panda's name to grab his attention so the importance of this lesson would sink in. At the same time, he sighed deeply as he prepared to admit one of his deepest flaws. "I may have mastered all one thousand scrolls, and I've invented my own moves and combat styles in my day, but I still applied them in a very straightforward, traditional manner. I was, and still am, rather predictable. It's the sort of thing that happens when you believe you're the best—you tend to assume you don't need to change, or to practice, because no one can possibly outmatch you." _And being locked up for twenty years, brooding on what you lost and running over the same plots and schemes again and again, does not an innovative thinker make._

 

"It's something I need to work on, and remind myself, if I'm going to be of any use in helping protect the Valley. The fact I know the Wu Sisters, how they think and fight, doesn't do a damn bit of good if they know me just as well. Just look at Mei Ling—she has just as much knowledge as I do, and I'll bet you anything she's much more versatile and insightful than me and the Wu Sisters put together. At the very least, she knows better than to always use the same methods and moves from one battle to the next—especially not against her own sisters. You'd do well to watch her in action when you get the chance…"

 

For that matter, he'd be watching the mountain cat himself—in a rare moment of humility and generosity, he could admit that Mei Ling might well be his equal in kung fu, and that she certainly surpassed him in her ability to think outside the box. He allowed his opinion might be influenced by the fact she had saved him from imprisonment or death at the paws of Tigress, but even so…he rather hoped she could be brought in on these lessons too—if for no other reason than so he could find out what she was truly made of, and let her do the same with him.

 

"But you're not like that, panda. You're unorthodox. Right now you're suffering because you don't know enough of the art of kung fu to truly make a difference. But once you do, if you then apply that knowledge to your…unusual way of fighting, then you may well live up to your title and show those killers what for."

 

He didn't allow Po more than a few moments to turn bright red and shuffle his paws on the gravel pathway, though, before he resumed pressing his point. "You've already proven you know how to use things around you, to confuse your opponent by using objects which aren't meant to be weapons." _Like woks, and bamboo, and fireworks…_ "So what I want to show you is how to take advantage of _everything_ around you, not just what you know how to use, how to make anything your weapon—including you. Observe."

 

Wheeling about on one foot, he immediately launched into a series of strikes, kicks, and leaps, as if he were dueling with an invisible opponent. There was of course nothing to hit, but for the purposes of the demonstration, he acted as if there were—and with each leap after his 'adversary', he brought a new feature of the garden landscape into play as his ally. He pressed his opponent back toward a stone bench almost hidden in the bushes, so that if there had truly been a person there, they would have stumbled over it and flipped backwards to land in a heap on the ground.

 

He swiped a vase from a nearby pedestal and pretended to smash it across their face. He backed the other fighter underneath a moon bridge, where the confining space made it difficult to spar and, if the person were tall enough and unobservant enough, they'd be likely to bark their crown on the low-hanging arch. He pushed them on relentlessly, until they were trapped in a corner made by two walls of the compound and could not escape. He even channeled his _chi_ into a blast of wind, setting the fronds of a nearby weeping willow tree to dancing so that each struck out like a whip.

 

By the time he had finished and turned back to the panda again, Po was outright gaping, his eyes the widest and brightest Tai Lung had ever seen them, and he looked as if he didn't know whether to faint, applaud enthusiastically, or cheer at the top of his lungs. He apparently settled for slapping one paw to his forehead while he sat down on another bench. "That…was… _amazing_! You're so right, Tai, I never would've thought of some of that!"

 

In spite of himself, the snow leopard grinned a bit smugly, even as he felt his cheeks burn with a rather bashful blush. It might not be good for his ego to hear all this praise…but then again, when had he ever heard such a thing before? Both Shifu and Oogway had never acted like this; his father was not the effusive sort, never had been, limiting himself only to simple declarations of 'excellent work' or 'well done, Tai Lung', and the turtle's observations had usually been of a more introspective nature, commenting in that lilting, languid tone of his how the feline was improving dramatically but that a wise man knew he would always be learning, always changing as he went through life.

 

Po's unadulterated, uninhibited excitement over what the snow leopard could do…it made Tai Lung all the more determined to prove himself. Not to be superior to others, not to earn their accolades, but because he simply wanted to see that smile again, to be the panda's hero. It might technically still be a selfish desire, but what did that matter? As his father had said, he wasn't meant to be the Dragon Warrior, so he didn't need to kill himself trying to attain a virtuous state that was quite frankly beyond him.

 

But there also wasn't anything wrong with wanting to please others, as long as he didn't let them dictate his actions. Po was an ardent fan, not just of kung fu, but of what it stood for. The least he could do was show the panda more of what it was meant to do—and maybe, just maybe, he could show _himself_ as well…could take these lessons to heart, and remember what he had forgotten. It was the only way he could be proud of himself now, could possibly withstand whatever this _chi_ wizard would throw at him—centering himself on his training, and hewing to the philosophy Oogway had taught him as a cub and adolescent: defend. Protect. Aid those who could not help themselves. Destroy the wicked. Answer hate with fortitude, cruelty with kindness, murder with justice, pain with sympathy and understanding.

 

Well, perhaps some lessons would be harder than others. But…he had to try. For Shifu, for Tigress…and for Po.

 

"I'm sure you would have eventually," he finally answered the panda, crossing his arms loosely over his chest as he regarded him with a new eye. "After all, some of those tricks I learned from watching you. Taking advantage of your surroundings is the most unexpected thing you can do in combat, the best way you can lower your enemy's defenses and win the day. It's not all just kicks and punches, or mastering a particular style. It's knowing how to _use_ what you've learned in ways that no one would predict. It's winning by out- _thinking_ your enemy, not just out-fighting them. The rest is just fancy footwork, window dressing."

 

"But…" The Dragon Warrior looked very confused. "Master Shifu taught me knowin' all the forms is important, and that ya gotta master as many weapons as you can, so you'll never be left defenseless if ya don't have th' right one with you."

 

Tai Lung nodded. "That's very true. Weapons _are_ very important in kung fu, and as you must already know, Tigress and the others swear by weapons. But Shifu can take down anyone with only his fists and his feet…so can I, and for that matter so can you, if you really try. Any weapon is useless if one can't wield it. And always remember, panda, the best weapon you can have, the one weapon you can always count on and must always have complete faith in, is your own body. That's what you should always rely on, what will never fail you."

 

Po glanced down at himself sadly, morosely, taking hold of his paunch in both paws and trying to hoist it up into some semblance of a warrior's broad-chested build. It didn't work, and he soon let it sag again with an audible slosh. "I dunno, Tai. I think mine ain't as dependable as, y'know, yours. Or the rest of the Five's."

 

"Oh really?" The snow leopard smirked sardonically. "I seem to recall a certain belly of iron that hurled me about fifty feet above the village. Not to mention your immunity to my nerve strike. Your body's more effective than you give it credit, panda."

 

He paused, then grinned even more openly, if a bit maliciously, as a thought occurred to him: it would prove to Po he had what it took to be a true kung fu warrior, it would teach him about using one's own body to win, and it would allow him that small measure of revenge he craved all at once.

 

"Here, let me show you. I bet you wondered just how I became stronger while in Chorh-Gom."

 

"Yeah…" Po ventured uncertainly.

 

"Anyone can do a nerve strike," the snow leopard lectured knowledgeably. "It's codified in the thousand scrolls, in fact it was the last one I mastered. But the way I made it, and myself, stronger was through Oogway's restraining device. I don't know how to describe it, except to say it…compressed my _chi_. Gathered it together, built it up, tightly contained it. That's what I drew on to keep myself going all those years…it was dark, probably made me even more unstable, but at the same time it grounded me. It helped me become more focused on the essence of my self…so I could turn it to new ends."

 

Looking up from the point on the ground where he'd let his eyes fall as he soberly contemplated what he'd done to himself, he forced a suggestive smile. "Like redirecting my _chi_ into my nerve strike. And that, panda, is what I'm going to teach you."

 

Quiet, pervasive and still, settled over the post-midnight darkness of the Jade Mountain, and then Po at last breathed, "You will? Really and truly? Oh man, Tai, that is like the best thing you could ever do! Please, ya gotta show me—"

 

The snow leopard struck without any warning. Even as the panda was still babbling and giggling excitedly about the prospect of learning the nerve strike, Tai Lung formed his paw into the proper position, palm out and fingers curled, then struck with the single upraised digit—right into Po's elbow. The bear gasped, his endless litany suddenly cut off as his arm suddenly went limp, dangling paralyzed and useless from his shoulder. "What the—how…?"

 

Tai Lung didn't let him ponder the implications of this any longer, whipping about with Viper-like speed to strike again. Po instinctively threw his other arm up to block him—only to have that limb, too, collapse, swaying and flopping, at his side. The panda staggered back, a look of betrayal and consternation on his broad face, even as he struggled to get one leg up beneath his top-heavy weight to counter him with. Surprisingly, he did—Shifu must have really worked with him on his flexibility!

 

But the snow leopard hit his knee too, leaving one leg unable to support him, so that the panda was soon comically hopping about on his single remaining leg. After only a few moments of this, during which Tai Lung watched him while leaning idly against a gingko tree, the ex-convict burst out laughing. As it had been that day in the kwoon, it was not sadistic or nasty laughter, but genuinely amused and heartfelt—because this was easily one of the funniest sights he'd ever seen. And to get this sort of result after the humiliation he'd suffered the last time they fought seriously was…satisfying.

 

Finally, after several more agonizing moments, the panda collapsed in a heap on the ground, panting and sweating, and Tai Lung crossed over to Po's side and nonchalantly sat down atop his heaving, bulging belly. "So what now, big guy? Now _I'm_ sitting on _you_."

 

Groaning under his breath, apparently having a difficult time with the spotted feline's solid weight, the bear spoke between gritted teeth. "Aww, _c'mon_. This ain't…fair. What'd I ever…do to…you…" He trailed off as the truth sank in.

 

"Well well. I do believe I just defeated the Dragon Warrior," Tai Lung drawled. Oh yes, revenge was sweet, and so worth the wait.

 

"But…how? And why? I…I thought ya were my bud." The look on Po's face—crestfallen, pitiful, and hurt—was enough to make the snow leopard stop laughing and grinning, instead letting out a soft sigh and slumping his shoulders.

 

"I am your friend, Po. Gods help me, I don't know why or how I am, but I am. Doesn't mean I can't have a little fun with you, now does it? I'm only teasing, panda; suck it up and take it like a man, hmm?" Lifting a paw, he started counting off points on his fingers. "How did I do it? Simple. When we fought before, I was enraged, out of my mind with anger. I'd been denied everything I thought would make me happy, by you I thought, and I just wanted to make you hurt.

 

"But I wasn't thinking…I just kept attacking the same places again and again, even though it was clear I could never paralyze you through all that fat. Now…now with hindsight, calm, and intelligence, I could work out just where to strike you successfully. The joints…the underarms…the face. No pudge there, panda." He chuckled and tapped Po artfully on the nose.

 

"As for why…to prove a point. Now that I know how, I could have defeated you at any time. But I didn't. Because it wouldn't make any difference, I realize that now. I could take the Dragon Scroll from you—but what would that achieve? It's not going to give me some mystical power to defeat the sisters. I don't need it to earn Shifu's love, already got that one. I've got your friendship, whether I want it or not.

 

"The only thing I can do now is keep using my skills the way they were meant to be, to defend this Valley, and hope eventually everyone will understand and accept me for who I am. I can't gain the scroll unless I'm a true hero…and if I become one, I don't even need it anymore. How's that for irony?" He laughed, bitterly but also ruefully.

 

"But I don't think anyone can blame me," he added cheekily, "if I take far too much pleasure out of trumping you. So don't you take all the fun out of it for me by pouting too much, panda." As it was, he would dearly love to keep the panda paralyzed for the foreseeable future, or at least a joint or two. But if he did, the others would never forgive him (though he somehow suspected Shifu would only mildly disapprove).

 

And while Tai Lung was tempted to only strike Po's paws, so his fingers would be stiff enough to be unable to grip anything, the snow leopard thought better of it. For this would prevent the panda from being able to cook, and that would be an utter travesty—he was becoming fonder of the panda's cooking with every meal he ate, and didn't want to be deprived of all that rich, delicious food if he could help it.

 

Po grumbled under his breath, and would likely have crossed his arms sullenly if he could move them. "Fine, fine, I get it. But could ya let me up now? We still got trainin' t' do. Unless that was all a line you were feedin' me so ya could get me alone like this."

 

Tai Lung smirked and nodded, getting up from his surprisingly comfy, padded perch. "Oh no, I really will teach it to you—it's something the Dragon Warrior ought to know, after all. Keep your britches on, just a moment…" And with a deep breath and another focus of his _chi_ , he stabbed with unerring accuracy into each limb in succession, unlocking Po's own energies so he could move and sit up again. As the panda groaned, rubbed at his sore joints, and tried to sit up, he offered him a helping paw.

 

"Now," he said conversationally after Po was sitting attentively on the bench, "the way it works is like this. I'm going to put you through some tai chi stances, so you can get your chakras open and your _chi_ flowing. Then you have to gather yourself, everything that makes you who you are—all your determination, all your strength, all your emotions, whatever you have to—and _push_ it into your paw, narrow it down to the circumference of your finger. Let me show you how it feels."

 

The snow leopard held up his right paw, palm out in the proper striking position again…cleared his mind of all distractions, of all his worries, pains, and especially his current cocky amusement at the plight he'd put Po in. Then he nudged his energy up into his limb, felt it burn, seethe, and churn within him, ready to be sent surging down to block the _chi_ of whomever it came in contact with.

 

"There," he hissed between his teeth; it was much harder to hold the energy back, to keep it in check, then to gather it or use it in a powerful burst—but he had more than enough will to restrain it. "Touch my paw, Po…can you feel it?"

 

Reaching out to set his paw against the former felon's, the Dragon Warrior paused—and Tai Lung could see the moment when his spiritual energy brushed the feline's own, how his green eyes widened in shock, wonder, and excitement. He could even feel Po's _chi_ in the same moment, and for an instant he was certain his face had the same expression as the panda's—because for whatever reason, the power he felt beneath the surface of Po's paw was easily as phenomenal as his own.

 

The bear _was_ destined for kung fu—no one with that amount of _chi_ could be meant for anything else, or else it would surely be a colossal waste. At the very least, he had to be one of the most centered, stable, and steady presences he'd ever encountered. And as Tai Lung imagined, then, just what kinds of feats and moves could be managed if he trained Po properly in how to use this natural ocean of _chi_ …if it were then released in concert with the snow leopard's own energies…suddenly, he understood why Oogway's faith was so unshakable. Suddenly, he believed they really did have a chance.

 

"Yeah!" Po burst out, interrupting his stunned thoughts. "Yeah, I do, Tai. It's…it's like a living thing, ain't it? It's almost…got a heartbeat."

 

Tai Lung swiftly released both his lungful of air and his control over his _chi_ , allowing the energy to dissipate back down into his body. He shuddered, for more reasons than one. "That's…that's right, panda. Very good. Now, when you can feel that same feeling inside you, when you can draw that heat and power up into your paw the same way I do, you'll be able to perform my nerve strike as well. Let's get you prepared, shall we?"

 

For the next hour or so, he put him through the forms and taolus. Part of him wished he still had Oogway's staff to use as a correcting device, the same as Shifu had done to him growing up, but all things considered it probably wasn't a good idea to subject the newly-healed wood to such physical abuse again so soon. Instead he made do with a switch fashioned from a cypress branch, using it to swat an offending limb or tap Po's backside to make him stiffen up straight, poking and prodding him into the proper position. Only when he was certain the panda had not only limbered up but also 'loosened' his _chi_ did he agree to move on to the next step.

 

"All right then, that should be enough to get the energies freely flowing," he commented, watching with a critical eye as Po balanced on one foot, his other leg extended behind him as he bent into a horizontal T-pose, both arms spread wide like a bird in flight. "Now, this is only a beginner's course, you'll need to study anatomy charts to locate all the nerve points—Mantis should have them, I believe. And it requires great precision—a centimeter off and you could lock up a joint forever, or stop the heart."

 

With those caveats, the snow leopard took up a defensive stance which nevertheless left him wide open since it presented his left arm as a perfect target. "Do it just as I taught you—find your center…draw up all the energy from your stomach…that's it. Think of something or someone to focus your passion—dumplings, Tigress, I don't care. Just, something powerful and intense. Use it to fuel your _chi_. D'you feel it?"

 

"Y-yeah…hoo…it's strong, all right. I had no idea…I had all this in me." Indeed, Po's round face was flushed and sweating, and Tai Lung could faintly detect, with his excellent eyesight and spiritual attunement, a shimmering aura of the same golden energy that had washed across the village square when he'd used the Wuxi Finger Hold. "Don't know…if I can hold it though, Tai…"

 

"That's all right, panda. It's only your first time, frankly I'm surprised you even succeeded in gathering it at all, let alone that much…" Eyeing the panda's arm as he brought his paw up in an open-palm strike, he braced himself. "When you feel you're ready, strike me, pour all that energy into your finger, try and hit one of my nerve clusters…now, don't be surprised if you don't succeed—"

 

A set and determined look crossed Po's face, and with unerring precision he struck out at Tai Lung's elbow. Instantly, his whole limb went limp with a golden ripple of light that lit up the garden. The feline's words died in his throat, and he stared in shock and disbelief at his dangling arm, which might as well have been made of newly-rolled dough.

 

It had taken him weeks, months, to master the thousandth scroll. It had taken him twenty years to perfect the application of _chi_ to the pressure point strike so as to create the Leopard Claw. And Po had, if not mastered it, at least showed a stunning ability to learn it in a mere fraction of the time. _I don't believe it. Oogway and Shifu were right. He…he's a natural. He can be shown a move once or twice, and know it. And he doesn't even realize what he's done._

 

"Uh…er, yes. That's more than adequate, panda. Now, if you could strike again, to unblock it…" He could strike himself, of course, but since it was Po's _chi_ blocking his, only the one who had landed the blow could undo it—he had heard and read of great masters from the distant past who had enough willpower and mental energy to break through the binding _chi_ and shrug off the effects of a nerve strike on their own, but he wasn't to that level yet. And somehow, with Po being the Dragon Warrior, he wasn't sure if he could succeed regardless.

 

"Sure!" Just like that, the panda struck again, in the same spot, and feeling and motion instantly returned to the snow leopard's arm. Rubbing the sore joint and flexing his muscles absently to restore full feeling to it, Tai Lung stared down at his limb in confusion and wonder, then looked up as Po lapsed back into his previous stance. "So now what? Legs? Temple? Chest?"

 

"No! No…that won't be necessary." If this was just beginner's luck, he didn't want to risk the panda hitting his heart by mistake…and if it wasn't, he'd rather not be humiliated all over again by collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut. "I…I think we've done enough for tonight. Just keep practicing your exercises, and we'll take up again tomorrow night, same time and place. But now I hope you can see just what your body can do for you, panda. That power to cut off another warrior from their own body…it came from within you, from your own energies. With that at your disposal, what d'you need a sword or a staff for?"

 

Po nodded, his expression at once awed, contemplative, and extraordinarily pleased with himself—as well he should be. As he turned toward the gravel walkway that led back toward the western wing and the bunkhouse, the Dragon Warrior gave him a grateful and proud look. "Y'know, you're right, buddy. If I can master this, the Wu Sisters ain't gonna know what hit 'em, let alone anythin' else ya got t' teach me. Thanks, Tai—I owe ya big-time for this."

 

"Think nothing of it," he waved it aside. "As I said, it'll only benefit everyone here at the Palace. I'm sure if you keep applying yourself, you'll do fine…"

 

But as he followed the panda toward the dormitories, feeling a sudden wave of weariness and lassitude wash over him that had nothing to do with sleep or lethargy, Tai Lung could only watch the black-furred back on the path ahead of him and shake his head in utter stupefaction. Po wasn't the screw-up he'd assumed him to be; while he was still ignorant of many things, and there were so many scrolls ahead of him to study and master, the panda had proven to him this night that he was meant to learn kung fu. That it really was his destiny to be the Dragon Warrior.

 

And if the snow leopard could pass on to him all he knew, complete what Master Shifu had started…then nothing could stop the panda. Next time, he would not fare so badly in battle—he could help Tai Lung get rid of the Wu Sisters once and for all, as well as this unseen villain who haunted the Valley with his murderous darkness.

 

With that being the case…he had a whole new reason to look forward to this training. Instructing Po would not be merely a chore, a fulfillment of a bargain, a repayment of a debt. It would be like nothing else he had ever set out to do…it might well be the most important thing he ever did.

 

And he was going to thoroughly enjoy every moment of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening of this chapter was, of course, my homage to Mel Brooks. Hoo-ray for _Spaceballs_! Considering Po's action figures are part of the KFP-verse, I don't think it seemed too inappropriate to include. Also, see if you can find the _Willow_ reference embedded within the same scene... In the meantime, if you look very closely, you'll see this scene is actually a parody of a great deal of the common features of Taigress fics and Tai Lung redemption fics in general, as well as a parody of some of the very statements I make _in my own fic_. Just because I love Tai Lung, and the idea of him and Tigress getting together, doesn't mean I can't see the humor value in the things a lot of the Tai fanboys/fangirls take for granted. It's good if you can laugh at yourself after all. 
> 
> The bit about Tai learning the nerve strike from Oogway's restraining device is canon, a point described in _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ , but the way he applied his own chi to make it block chi and paralyze his opponent is my own invention. I also thought it fairly obvious that while Tai was too enraged during the battle to figure out how to properly strike Po, with time and his many years of kung fu training behind him he would eventually figure out how it could be done. Good thing he only did so after he'd already started to change, eh? In the meantime, you should now have an inkling of the snow leopard's destiny and just what role lies ahead of him.


	23. Confrontations

 

 

The door to his dormitory room rattled softly in the darkness, the rice-paper rippling and crinkling as the wooden frame creaked open, and as he looked up and peered through the shadows, he spied a silhouette visible in the faintly streaming moonlight. A slender, shapely silhouette. Feline. And female. He couldn't identify anything further—not face, eye color, not even scent, not until she drew closer. But aside from Mei Ling, there was only one female feline in the Jade Palace…and even if his bedroom was the last place she'd be caught dead, it had to be her. She'd come to him at last. She couldn't stay away.

 

Tai Lung watched her pull the door closed behind her. He heard a faint click in the silence, as the lock was tripped. He kept himself quiet and still on his mattress, his breathing even and rhythmic, as if he were still asleep, as he listened to her approach…the floorboards creaking beneath her weight…the sound of her own breathing, ragged and faintly rasping. Was she that aroused at the thought of being so near him? Or…could she have come to kill him, and those grating sounds were her preparing to growl and snarl as she gutted him?

 

At the last possible second, he rolled over and sat up in the same motion, paw darting out to latch onto her wrist and drag her down onto the bed with him. It only took him seconds to discover her claws were sheathed…seconds more to see her fangs in the moonlight, revealed by a suggestive, seductive smile rather than a vicious sneer.

 

Her fiery eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, rather like his own, and as she settled on the bed next to him and allowed his arm to wrap around her side, Tigress purred under her breath. "I've put this off for far too long now. I've just been fooling myself, no one else. Anyone with half a brain can see we need each other; that we're meant to be together. It's so powerful…I can't resist it anymore. Or you. And I don't want to anymore."

 

Licking his suddenly dry lips, the snow leopard gazed up at her—hungrily, eagerly, yet also in disbelief. This couldn't be real; it had to be a dream. _But if it is, it's the best damn dream I've ever had. Why fight it?_

 

Tigress chuckled as she leaned down over him, taking control and pushing him onto his back as she straddled his waist. "What's the matter, stud? Cat got your tongue? Aren't you going to say anything?"

 

"It's about time?" he ventured, smirking.

 

To this she only laughed aloud—soft, mocking, but also appreciative and amused. He became even more certain this was all in his mind, the real Tigress would never have allowed such an arrogant and chauvinistic comment to pass her by without remark. But he didn't let that bother him…this was the closest he would likely ever come to this wondrous fantasy becoming a reality, what with the pure hatred and disgust she treated him to in the waking world. So he might as well enjoy himself while he could.

 

Arm coming up around her striped shoulders, he brought her down atop him with relative ease, and somehow he knew exactly what to do, as if they had rehearsed this long before—perhaps in another life. Soft lips met his, pliable and moist, warm with an exotic taste he couldn't describe, and he couldn't help letting out a lurid groan as his rough tongue delved inside her mouth…questing, seeking, exploring every inch of her, sampling her like a fine wine.

 

It was just like he remembered, only better. In Yunxian, she'd been reluctant, repulsed—or so she had claimed, the kiss itself had told a different story. It had been so short, albeit intense—he'd barely gotten a chance to truly bask in it before it was over and she had fled his presence. Now…now, he could savor it, and it was glorious.

 

He felt as if their muzzles were melding together. Her torso pressed down against his bare, white-furred chest, and as the heat between them intensified until he was sweating in the closeness of the room, Tai Lung ran his paw down her back, tracing out the shape of her shoulder blades, the arch of her spine, the base of her lashing tail. He cupped her firm derriere, was treated to a light, squealing growl, and in response he ground himself up against her.

 

She could feel him responding as well as he could…he wanted her so badly, so much he was surprised he didn't explode right then and there, and he knew she wanted him too. He could feel her whole body quivering in time with him, like strings on a well-tuned konghou, and he knew that he could stroke her in any direction and she would let him. She was his at last.

 

Swallowing hard, panting heavily as he felt his body temperature rise several more degrees, the snow leopard adjusted himself…thrust a little closer, took her muzzle in both paws and kissed her even more ardently, losing himself in the euphoria…

 

Then, as he stirred in his sleep and his eyes opened again, he realized two things almost simultaneously: he was still kissing a woman—and it wasn't Tigress.

 

Letting out a startled shout and a nasty curse, Tai Lung took hold of her slim figure and forcefully shoved her away from him, off the bed, until she tumbled onto the floor with a dainty, even cute, ladylike cry. And at the same time he recognized her voice, he spied the shape of her enormous ears in the shadows…and saw the violet eyes flashing in disgruntled annoyance as she flipped her black cloak back into place.

 

It was Wu Jia.

 

"What—how did you get in here?" As his eyes adjusted swiftly to the night, he flicked his gaze over her shoulder, spied the open window where the bamboo curtains danced and clattered in the breeze, and had his question answered for him. Many other questions occupied his racing thoughts—where were her sisters, what were they up to, how could they have gotten so close to the Jade Palace without any of the guards catching them, how could this new danger be dealt with—but only one managed to escape from his mouth between clenched teeth. "And what the _hell_ d'you think you're doing?"

 

The snow leopardess grinned at him lopsidedly. "What do you think, hot stuff? It's been twenty years, do you really think after finding you again I was going to pass up a chance to finally get you all to myself?" She reached out with both slim paws to rest them on his shoulders, kneading gently at his deltoids as she crawled back onto the bed. "Mmm…so solid. Warm. Strong. Just like I imagined you would be. Tai Tai, you are a god in fur and flesh, you know that?"

 

Again, he tried to shove her away, but this time she was too quick for him and dodged his fists. He flushed, in embarrassment as well as arousal, since he could tell from the condition of his pants that whether he wanted to or not, he was responding to the Wu Sister. "Get your paws _off_ me," he growled.

 

But of course she acted as if he'd insisted she stay, in fact the way she shivered suggested his growl had actually been a turn-on for her. "Now now, big guy. You should be glad it was me that slipped into your room, and not Xiu. She'd have tied you up, or manacled you to your bed, so she could have her way with you. And then probably cut your throat afterward."

 

Tai Lung glared at her, even as he felt his stomach writhe queasily. But before he could splutter a reply to this perverted notion, Jia's face became surprisingly intense, her tone flat, hard, and threatening. "If we're going to have a future together, though, handsome, no more of this 'Tigress' business. I'll forgive you this once, but from now on, you're dreaming about me. Got it?"

 

He blinked, torn between open denial and a proud declaration that it was indeed Tigress he loved, and no other. He hadn't realized he'd been groaning her name in his sleep, though he must have been. What to do? _This girl's as crazy as Xiu is! If I don't get her off the scent, she might well go after Tigress next…_ And if she didn't, the _chi_ wizard certainly would once he learned of this bond from her! He opened his mouth to try and deflect that line of inquiry—and then he paused.

 

There were answers he still needed, information of a great personal nature to him as well as the truth about just who had hired the assassins. Perhaps by herself, without Xiu's cold cruelty and Chun's dispassionate boredom, Jia could be persuaded to part with these little tidbits. If he was more attentive and accepting. Besides, what would it hurt? Tigress had washed her paws of him, it seemed, and he couldn't deny on some level that the spotted feline was attractive…

 

No longer fighting her, he allowed Jia to clamber atop him again, just as the striped cat had in his dream, and he did not resist as she brought her narrow muzzle up to his for another surprisingly soft, tender kiss. Her scent, though very unlike Tigress's, was pleasant and enticing nonetheless—sweet and flowery, rather than the more alluring, seductive sandalwood of the striped feline. "Now that's more like it. You really should be with your own species anyway, you know. It's only right."

 

He shifted in the bed sheets, making sure to press his groin up against her leg, so she would be well aware of just what sort of effect she had on his body—he was still tired, but the longer she touched him, the more he was waking up…every part of him. She made a soft coo, ridiculous but also endearing.

 

"You may be right," he observed off-handedly. "But if you expect me to even entertain the notion of us becoming an item, there's something you'll have to do for me, Jia."

 

"What's that?" the hired killer murmured as she plastered herself to his chest, kissing him repeatedly while she ground her hips ever downward toward his loins. Their faces were now only inches apart, and his breath was as hot on her face as hers was on his.

 

"Tell me where my family is," he whispered softly in her ear, as if it were a lover's honeyed request—even as his claws dug abruptly into her back, pinning her in place.

 

Jia froze, for more than one reason, her expression stricken, pained…and sorrowfully sympathetic. She paused…licked her lips…opened her mouth to speak…

 

And then a strange, rumbling, vicious yowl came from the doorway, and Tai Lung jerked his head to the side to look. The minute he did, he groaned and squeezed his eyes shut—if he could have, he would have buried his face in his paws, or else smacked his forehead. _Why does this keep happening to me? Can you tell me that, please? Is she spying on me? If she is, it's her own damn fault she keeps jumping to the wrong conclusions…_

 

Of course, this time, what she thought was not that far off from the truth. And that fact, as well as the volcanic fury building in those scorching eyes, made Tai Lung slump back against the headboard in despair. For it was, of course, Tigress who had caught him—and the only consolation he could take was that while she had given him her typical withering glare, the striped feline seemed to have even more hatred and wrath directed at Wu Jia…

                                                                       

* * *

 

She knew she shouldn't be there; completely aside from the dangers of spending too much time in Tai Lung's presence and allowing his rugged handsomeness, alluring body, and suave, sophisticated manner of speaking to sway her beliefs and encourage the intense needs of her body, what she really should be doing was either standing guard over Po's room or patrolling the Jade Mountain to ensure the Wu Sisters couldn't get within an inch of him.

 

But so much had been running through Tigress's head, keeping her awake no matter how long she lay in bed…her own terrible, poisonous words of two weeks ago, accusing the snow leopard of what had seemed so irrefutable, but instead turned out to be absolutely wrong. Monkey's equally venomous suspicions which she could somehow not purge from her mind. Her burgeoning feelings for the spotted feline, which once he'd been exonerated had gone from a simmer to a full boil until she could barely glance at Tai Lung without immediately imagining their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. The reconciliation between father and son which had once again relegated her to an outsider, an orphan, forgotten and brushed aside as the healing rift shut her away from what she'd always wanted. How badly she had treated him when she'd assumed he attacked Po, contrasted with her desperate belief that he was still hiding his true self and motivations from them.

 

All of this had made it possible for her to hear the voices coming from Tai Lung's room, voices which should not have been there in the middle of the night. The snow leopard's cultured rumble was one of them, the other was feminine but otherwise unidentifiable. She had no idea who could possibly be in there, other than Viper—whose voice she knew very well, and this wasn't it.

 

But it gave her the perfect excuse to check up on the snow leopard. To make sure he wasn't plotting something nefarious, meeting with one of the sisters to bring about the palace's downfall. To remind him she was still watching him lest he slip up for real. Or just to get a possible glimpse of him in bed…did he sleep in the nude, she wondered?

_Stop it!_

 

When she came to the doorway, however, and peered inside, she was startled and infuriated to discover the last thing she had expected—that he was actually in the middle of what looked to be a fairly serious seduction. Of course he was an adult and could do whatever he pleased in that regard; in that respect, she was hardly his chaperone.

 

What bothered her was at first glance, it appeared to be Mei Ling clasped in Tai Lung's muscular embrace, a state of affairs that instantly made her hackles bristle. _I knew it, I knew she was defending him for a reason_ — _she was in on it with him! She's just like her sisters. Well, no matter what she thinks, she can't have him…_

 

Even as she reeled back mentally at this snarling possessiveness which was completely inappropriate and utterly wrong—because she did _not_ want Tai Lung, had no business caring whom he chose to take to bed, and knew that no future lay with him except one of ruin, hurt, and suffering—Tigress was snapped out of her jealous rage by two things.

 

The figure perched on the snow leopard's stomach turned to look at her, breaking the frozen tableau, and as soon as she spied the violet eyes she knew it wasn't Mei Ling. Which, considering family resemblance, could only leave… And then the snow leopardess spoke, her voice winsome and coy even as it was biting and arrogant. "Sorry, sweetie, I got him first, and it's finders keepers. Take care of him for me 'til I come back for him?"

 

Winking, the assassin leaped off of her perch, darting across the room in a twinkling, and before Tigress could even blink, she was gone out the window and into the night.

 

Despite the fact the intruder was gone, the tiger's growl continued to rumble deep in her throat as she turned to look at Tai Lung. The ex-convict threw up his paws, even as he seemed to realize how futile and pointless it was to continue giving the same tired old excuse. "It wasn't what it…I was just trying to get information out of—"

 

"Save it." She flicked her eyes toward the window again. "Which one was she? Was she the one who attacked Po?"

 

"No, that was Wu Jia, she—"

 

It didn't matter to her. She was still one of the Wu Sisters. And she could lead her to the others, as long as she didn't allow the lithe feline to gain too significant a head start. Without another word, Tigress sprang across the room, ignoring Tai Lung's upraised paws and desperate, frantic cries for her to wait. Claws brandished, the leader of the Furious Five burst soundlessly through the window and raced across the verdant, lushly forested slopes of the Jade Mountain, pursuing the fleet figure toward the east.

 

Silent as the stars, as swift as the surging rivers of the Valley, and as light as the wind which whipped across the heights, Tigress leapt and bounded—across the compound, out the wooden rear gate, past lanterns suspended on bamboo poles, moon bridges over crystalline streams and waterfalls, and garden arrangements of glittering, flecked stones. Down the mountainside, between the slender trunks of ancient cherry-blossom trees, even springing and twisting from dangling vines to change her direction or keep herself from plummeting into crevasses and off precipices, the striped feline raced.

 

And the entire time, as she kept her golden ruby eyes fixed unerringly on the darting shape ahead of her in the shadows, as she launched herself out into open space and somersaulted her way from the roof of one outbuilding to another with barely a shifting of slate tiles, Tigress's thoughts pounded with one undeniable thought: she was going to win, and she was going to make the Wu Sisters pay.

 

There were so many reasons why. Because they were wicked, cruel, and evil, and had to be stopped. Because, by setting it up to look like Tai Lung had committed their dirty deed, they had manipulated her into accusing the snow leopard and so made her look a fool. Because they had almost killed Po. Because, as Mei Ling had said, they had defied and defiled kung fu through their repugnant acts. And because Tai Lung had been unable to defeat them, not completely.

 

The great and mighty snow leopard, master of the thousand scrolls, had failed. So if she, Tigress, could manage what he had not, what Mei Ling hadn't either, when she had not matched either of their accomplishments…then finally, she could be unreservedly proud of herself, could know that whether or not Shifu ever acknowledged it, she was truly the best and could defend the Valley, and China, without the aid of larger, stronger males, without all that vaunted knowledge and special abilities. Though of course, the red panda would have to admit it, would have to, at long last, give her his praise…she would no longer have to feel outclassed by the snow leopard, or for that matter the Dragon Warrior…and Po would certainly give her his undivided attention again…

 

The fact that part of what she was seeking was the same goal Tai Lung had always yearned for was something she refused to think about. Just as she would not contemplate how much her jealousy of Jia, and her need to keep the snow leopard to herself even if she had no intention of ever truly romancing him, might also factor into her fiery hatred. Because that would suggest she had let him into her heart, had allowed those impregnable walls to come down even for an instant—and to admit that was to admit weakness, something she would never do…

 

Yet it also didn't stop the truth from slamming within her skull relentlessly, refusing to leave her alone—for in counterpoint to her vengeful, bloodthirsty hatred for the Wu Sisters, there rose as well the twin sensations of rage and a fierce, aching longing for the man she wanted to be with, but knew she could not have.

 

For even as she performed similar acrobatics as she had the night she'd raced off for the Thread of Hope—flipping from an ornamental dragon to gnarled tree branches, then springing out off the mountain altogether to plummet at incredible speeds for hundreds of feet, the wind whipping her cheek fur and buffeting her lean, solidly muscled body until she used a last set of springy, evergreen boughs to break her fall—even as all this occurred, her thoughts continued to race, all of them centered around Tai Lung.

 

First and foremost, she recalled how he had looked at the lakeshore, when she had accused him of not only harming but nearly murdering his first and only friend—the reason she'd wavered, been on the edge of backing down and accepting his story, was because of the look in his eyes. It had been so anguished, distressed, and genuinely hurt—not just because no one would believe him, but because _she_ wouldn't. The more she had dismissed his words as lies, and the more she had insulted and rejected him, the more the pain hidden beneath his anger had grown.

 

At the same time, there'd been something so fragile in those golden orbs…tender, even (paradoxically) innocent. She recalled the stories Shifu had told them over the years of the snow leopard, of how he had been found abandoned, how he'd taken to kung fu when barely able to walk and had thrown himself into his training with an iron will from then on. Was that why she could still see innocence and softness in his eyes—because he had never truly had a cubhood, because he had thrown it all away in pursuit of the Dragon Scroll? Was it only now returning to him? She knew what that was like, she'd given herself over to discipline and endurance at a young age too—

 

She wrenched her thoughts away. But then, as she landed on the soft forest loam and continued sprinting after Wu Jia's now barely visible silhouette in the distance, she remembered instead that night in the forest a day south of Yunxian when he had confessed his love for her. How the previously confident, majestic figure of a snow leopard had been reduced to a tongue-tied, blushing adolescent as he tried to put his feelings into words, how his usually suave and debonair voice had been uncertain, tentative, yet oddly affecting as he told her he wanted her, needed her.

 

It had been such a shock, as well as so flattering and arousing, that it had taken all her willpower to give him a sardonic look in reply instead of either slapping him or leaping into his arms with a fervent 'Take me, I'm yours!' Everything she'd said that night was true, of course—he could not really love her, and before she could believe he did she needed to test him, prove his resolve and the depth of his emotions. But that didn't stop her from wanting him. She'd been so close to grabbing him by his shirt right then, catching him in a lip-lock, sliding her paw down his—

 

Again, she careened her mind in another direction. But he haunted her. She could hear his voice as he swore he would win her—despite the possessive, warrior jargon, there had been real devotion and longing in him. She remembered his words when he'd finally achieved a measure of eloquence: _'if wanting you with everything I have, and loving you with everything I am, makes me out of my mind, just call me Oogway. Because I'm proud of it, if it means I can be close to someone like you.'_

 

If she'd allowed herself, such a beautiful sentiment would have made her heart catch in her throat—it still did even now. It was like something out of an old ballad…who knew Tai Lung had the soul of a poet as well as a fighter?

 

Snarling in frustration, Tigress lashed out at an inoffensive tree as she leaped past into the deeper darkness of the uninhabited, wildest portion of the forest. This was wrong! She was insistent on that, dug her claws in so deeply there would be blood drawn if it were a living thing they'd embedded in. But a war raged inside of her, one that could not be won, one which was such an even contest she felt on the verge of collapsing and pounding at her head to make it stop.

_Forget about him! I won't have anything to do with him!_

****

**_But you love him._ **

_No, I don't, I hate him!_

****

**_Do you? Do you really?_ **

 

… _Fine, no. But I should!_

****

**_Why?_ **

_Because he's evil!_

****

**_Name one evil thing he's done since Po defeated him_ ** _._

 

… _He's hidden something. He knows more than he's telling about the Wu Sisters! And whenever they're brought up, even Po looks uncomfortable. He knows something too but he's waiting for Tai Lung to confess to it himself. They have a history, and it can't be any good._

****

**_Is that the best you can come up with?_ **

_All right, maybe he isn't a demon given flesh and fur. But he's got a horrible temper that's going to consume us all, I know it!_

****

**_So do you. And he's been learning control. The only times he's lost it was when he defended Po…when you pushed him too far with your accusations…and when he was defending you from that elephant._ **

_But he's so damned arrogant!_

****

**_He has a right to be proud of all he's learned._ **

_And that sarcasm!_

****

**_Admit it, you actually enjoy that about him._ **

_All he's ever done is hurt people._

****

**_And yet he loves children and is so good with them._ **

_He's always struggling with being good, though…he's too dangerous to be trusted._

****

**_You could try actually helping him, instead of making it harder for him._ **

_He's killed so many people!_

****

**_And he's trying to make amends for that. In case you'd forgotten, by the way, you almost killed someone too_** — ** _a child, at Bao Gu. At least he didn't do that._**

_Besides, he can't really be in love with me! He just wants to get into my pants, and once he's sated he'll leave me without a second's thought. That's all it is, and I'm not going to put myself through that kind of hurt._

****

**_Like you don't want to get into his pants. And right now you've hurt him worse than he's ever hurt you. Stop fighting it, stop denying it. There's nothing wrong with what you want._ **

_No! I won't…I can't…_

****

**_What are you afraid of?_ **

_I'm not afraid of anything!_

****

**_Liar_** _. **You're afraid of truly living.**_

 

As her own thoughts betrayed her, and unbidden the image of Tai Lung's handsome face rose in her mind—not sneering or smirking, but only expectant, hopeful, and earnest—Tigress let out an inarticulate roar of outrage and fury…and immediately wished she hadn't. The sound echoed and reverberated across the valley, disappearing within and deadened by the endless march of tree trunks, but it was nevertheless deafening, distinctive, and far too noticeable in the pre-dawn quiet.

 

Clapping her paws over her mouth in a futilely belated gesture, the striped feline slid to a halt and stiffened, gazing about her warily and worriedly. Part of her wanted to blame Tai Lung for this, but she knew at once it was a lie—she was responsible for this mistake, no one else.

 

At first she thought nothing had come of it, thankfully, as the forest around her remained tranquil and still, undisturbed by any other sounds. Nevertheless, the narrow angled lines of the trees—birches, here at the northeastern end of the Valley where it began to rise into the colder slopes—seemed far too eerie and sinister in the darkness, receding into the distance like endless lines of sentinels observing her…and finding her wanting.

 

There were no birds…no sounds of scavengers and rodents in the underbrush…no life at all it seemed. And beneath the misshapen bulge of the gibbous moon, which had nearly sunk below the horizon so that it appeared to nestle amidst the uppermost branches of the canopy, the pale white bark of the birches took on an unearthly, weird cast—as if they were leprous, or covered with a disgusting fungus. It made her fur stand on end.

 

Or maybe that was because, even though she had lost sight of Jia during her headlong flight and tortured, agonized thoughts, Tigress knew she was not alone. She was being watched.

 

Very slowly, each movement so gradual and cautious that she could be mistaken for a sapling bending in the wind, the leader of the Furious Five turned first her head, then her whole body, to peer behind her. At first she saw nothing, only the trees with their distinctive and unsettling glow in the moonlight, as if lit by a mystical spirit-light from within. Then, suddenly, she become aware of three shapes that were not plant life, though they were so still, slender, and unmoving she could be forgiven for briefly mistaking them for trunks.

 

Barely discernible in the gloom, as they were wrapped tightly in those concealing black cloaks, she would not have seen them at all if not for how the argent rays spilled down across the broad brims of the oversized rain hats they wore— _li_ s, they were called—each strangely shaped peak catching the shimmering luminescence until it seemed the straw headgear were baskets which had been filled by silvery pools of water. That, and the very faint twitching of a single spotted tail where it lay along the mist-covered ground. But once she knew they were there, she could easily detect three pairs of eyes watching her from between hats and cloaks…blue, green, violet, all but one set fixed on her with cruelty, coldness, and malice.

 

 

Tigress swallowed hard. She'd thought to catch Jia alone, before she could rejoin her sisters. She hadn't counted on the assassins being so quick to regroup in a united front…she hadn't expected to have to face them all. But her pride and warrior spirit—Tai Lung or Mantis would say her stubbornness—insisted she not back down, but brazen this out. Perhaps they would not expect that, and if she stood up to them rather than fleeing in terror, then…

 

"See?" Jia broke the pregnant silence between them with a slightly petulant, but also annoyingly cheerful tone. "I _told_ you she was following me."

 

"It's not that we didn't believe you, sister," the one with the flat, empty eyes of jade commented matter-of-factly. "We just had to see the great Master Tigress for ourselves."

 

The eldest—Xiu, Tigress reminded herself, the one who nearly killed Po—leaned forward marginally, her cloak slipping free enough to expose gleaming fangs in a sinister, satisfied smile. "Hmmm. I'm afraid she just doesn't meet expectations, though. No sense of subtlety or stealth, a trail of broken twigs a mile long, didn't even try to circle around and flank us…and of course, we heard you _breathing_ as soon as you entered the forest. So disappointing."

 

Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, paws flexing as she struggled to rein in her legendary temper— _Calm. Disciplined. Controlled. They're just trying to enrage you, don't give them that opening_ —she remained poised on the balls of her feet, arms drawn back into the classic defensive posture…one forming the 'L' across her chest and stomach, the other turned palm out to block any blows headed toward her face. Her style was known more for attacking than retreating into a protective stance, but she couldn't afford to ignore defense where the Wu Sisters were concerned.

 

"Why bother hiding my approach," she remarked, injecting equal parts boredom and acidity into her tone, "when those pursued aren't clever enough to find a wolf in a village full of sheep? Besides, you were embarrassingly easy to find, too. The smell of a bitch in heat gave you away in two seconds flat."

 

Jia let out a yowl of outrage, but she was cut off by a laugh from Xiu that was equal parts mockery and appreciation. "Delightful. So you can play with the big girls after all." The spotted feline applauded slowly, rhythmically before turning to her sisters. "And did you see how she made it so we aren't even worthy of her true skills? That we're beneath her? I just _love_ it." A fierce, fiendish grin twisted her muzzle.

 

"Hmm, yes, I did notice that," the middle one—Chun, was it?—deadpanned. "I hope her blows strike as well as her words do, or this is going to be a very short, and very dull, encounter."

 

"Would you like to find out personally?" Tigress took a step toward the snow leopardess, unable to keep the vicious growl from her voice.

 

"Now now, sisters," Xiu admonished with blatantly false sweetness. "There's no need to be so, ah, catty. Can't we all be friends here?" She chuckled, cruelly and heartlessly.

 

"Speak for yourself," Jia interjected with a snarl, glaring at Tigress with an unsurprising amount of resentment and even open loathing. "I'm not having anything to do with the one trying to take my Tai Tai away from me!"

 

This statement was so nonsensical, and unexpected, the striped feline actually backed down from her kung fu stance to stare at the youngest sister in open confusion. _I am **not** trying to_— _and since when did she…?_ "I knew you three were evil," she finally murmured in disbelief, "but I didn't know you'd gone completely around the bend."

 

Even as Jia bristled furiously, and would likely have leaped upon her hissing and scratching if Chun had not held her back, Tigress continued. "Where in the _hell_ did you get an insane idea like that? I want nothing to do with Tai Lung, certainly not that."

 

Jia sniffed and glared at her. "That's not what I heard. It's all over the Valley, everyone in the village is gossiping about you two! They've seen you together, seen the way you two look at each other. Half of them think you're as bad as Tai Tai is to even consider shacking up with him, and the other half think you two are some gods'-sent blessing!"

 

The bitterness in her voice was as shocking to hear as it was painful. For a moment, Tigress almost felt sorry for her—there was a vulnerability and a deep loneliness in her violet eyes that hadn't been there before. But then she looked up again, and with such nastiness and hatred the striped feline immediately lifted her paws to shield herself once more. "And before you showed up in his room, you were _all_ he could talk about!"

 

"Really?" In spite of herself, and though part of her observed this with rising fury and ridicule, Tigress couldn't help feeling a little flattered. She refused to consider becoming his mate, to even think about him as anything but a fellow kung fu warrior if even that, but it was still quite heartening to know someone so handsome believed her worth admiring… _No! Repeat after me: 'I am **not** going to fantasize about Tai Lung.' Especially not now, this is not a good time! Nor is it a good thing to be his sex object…_

 

Meanwhile, the Wu Sister was sneering as she crossed her arms severely—though on her pixie-like face it came across as more cute than truly contemptuous. "Don't act like you don't know! You've gotta know he undresses you with his eyes every time he sees you—that's what I do whenever I see him…" Her voice, which had dropped to a mutter for that last statement, picked up again. "And okay maybe I was exaggerating a bit. But he sure was dreaming about you when I found him. And you don't moan like that about someone you're just a _little_ fond of."

 

Even as Tigress was spluttering and growling in denial, Xiu once more intervened, this time smirking crookedly. "Oh, but this is _perfect_! We're all hunting _the same man_. And a good thing too, he's far too strong for any of us to prevail against him alone. But maybe, if we work together…hold him down, have our way with him…" She licked her lips decadently, suggestively. "You're welcome to join in too, dear."

 

Only by sheer force of will did Tigress keep from leaping in a roaring rampage upon the snow leopardess (and likely playing right into her paws). As it was, she didn't know which was stronger within her—the urge to disembowel Xiu for daring to suggest such a thing at all, let alone flippantly deigning to offer it as a 'gift' after they'd taken care of Tai Lung for her; a disgust so overpowering at the thought of being involved in anything so vile with the three assassins that she thought she was literally in danger of losing her last meal; or a secretly buried, darkly kinky notion that if only she and the snow leopard were a party to this theoretical entrapment, she might indeed very much enjoy so humbling and dominating him…

 

As if completely unaware of the effect her words had had, the Wu Sister continued in a thoughtful, almost bemused tone. "What I don't understand, though, is why you'd be interested in Tai Lung in the first place. I mean, I know we _all_ have a thing for the bad boys, don't we, and he's a prime target for any girl looking for a man. But correct me if I'm wrong, shouldn't you hate him right about now? Not only did he commit that awful rampage on the Valley all those years ago, he tried to kill your precious Dragon Warrior…"

 

It burst from her muzzle before she could stop herself—the accusation she now knew to be false, coming from the very one who had actually done the deed, so infuriated her that she stalked forward until she was only a few inches away from Xiu. "He did no such thing, that was your doing through and through. And we damn well know it, Mei Ling told us all about it. So don't try and lie to me."

 

The minute the words were spoken, she knew she'd made a terrible mistake and began cursing herself inwardly. Wu Xiu became very still, mouth slightly open and blue eyes narrowed contemplatively. Tigress could almost see the gears turning behind those frighteningly intelligent orbs, and then just as slowly, she smiled…a smile that made her lips stretch back to expose her fangs in a disturbing and deeply upsetting display. "Mei Ling? She's here at the Palace, is she? Well…that _does_ change things, doesn't it? Life's about to become a great deal more complicated—and fun."

 

"Yes," Chun murmured just as thoughtfully, no emotion at all betrayed by her piercing green eyes. "It explains a great deal. We definitely need to…pay her a visit."

 

Oddly, for the first time since she'd come upon the trio, Jia's expression changed to something friendly, even caring, and when she spoke her voice was bubbly and sweet. "Of course we do! It's been so long since we've seen Mei Ling, I really do miss her…"

 

Snapping to attention, Tigress stepped back a pace, dropping into an extended leg-crouch so as to completely block the path back through the forest, toward the Jade Mountain, as she brought her paws up in mirrored Tiger Fists. "Well, you won't be seeing her again anytime soon, or bringing her any harm. I'll see to that!"

 

"Really?" Xiu smirked, her perpetual expression it seemed—but this time with such open disdain it made the striped feline's blood boil. "That's funny, since from where I'm standing, _we_ can't let you go back and warn anyone in the village that we're here in the Valley. So it seems we're at an impasse." Nevertheless, the way she reached beneath her cloak for an unseen weapon suggested she already had a plan for how to break it.

 

"Not quite." Tigress peered up beneath the brim of the straw _li_ shading Xiu's frigid eyes, tuning out the gleaming moonlight on the birch bark that might distract or blind her at a crucial moment. "The way I see it, you're the one who almost killed Po, the one who tried to frame Tai Lung. You're the reason there've been more atrocities in China for the last few decades than there have been for entire dynasties before that. And _you_ are the one threatening Mei Ling now, and the rest of the Valley. So this battle should be between you and me."

 

Wu Xiu blinked, stared at her—and then laughed, in what seemed to be true merriment. The sound was still cruel and harsh enough, though, to chill her blood. "Well, I do have to give you points for audacity, kitty. But what makes you think we'd _ever_ agree to something like that? Particularly when we have the upper hand and, unless I miss my guess, we have you outnumbered. And we have weapons, while you do not."

 

She shook her head, tsking softly under her breath as if she truly regretted Tigress's errors. But when she spoke, her words bored in relentlessly, slamming against the striped feline's heart like a series of drop-kicks to her breastbone. "It's sad, isn't it? You try, and you try, and you try…but no matter how famous you get, no matter how many enemies you defeat, you never get what you _really_ want, do you, Master Tigress? Your own master wouldn't even tell you he was proud of you, or that he loved you—Tai Lung told me all about it, you know.

 

"Your friends, Viper, Mantis, and Monkey? They all come from distinguished lines and families—even that stupid janitor Mei Ling always carried a torch for at least went to Li Dai with us. But you're just an orphan no one wanted till Shifu took pity on you. You didn't get the Dragon Scroll. You couldn't defeat Tai Lung. And even Mei Ling mastered the thousand scrolls when you didn't. Yet now you expect to stop us, all by yourself? And that we'd choose to lower ourselves to your level, just to give you a fighting chance? What would possibly make us do that?"

 

Inside, Tigress was so furious, so hateful, so on the verge of exploding in unfathomable rage, that she swore she saw a red haze descend over her vision. She didn't know how Xiu knew so much about her—whether Tai Lung really had related her life history as she claimed (unlikely, since there'd hardly been time before or during their battle), or she'd learned it the same way so many others in China had, from the oft-told tales of the Furious Five. With some clever guesswork and insightful understanding thrown in for good measure.

 

It didn't matter; what mattered was that so much of what the snow leopardess said was spot on, a perfect match to her own secret thoughts, that she would never rest until Xiu paid for every single word she'd spoken—if not this night, then very soon.

 

Yet she didn't allow herself to give in to her wrath, not yet; not until she knew it would only be one wicked feline she'd have to deal with. Instead she gritted her teeth, clenched her fists, and then forced a teeth-baring smile of her own. "One simple thing," she answered tightly. "The fact that, unless you face me alone, without your sisters helping you, you'll never know if you're good enough to take me on by yourself and win."

 

There was a long, meaningful pause, and then the snow leopardess smiled again. "Bravo, Master Tigress. Score one for your side. I really shouldn't let such an argument sway me, of course—but I'd be lying if I said the idea didn't appeal to me. Very well…out of good sportsmanship, I'll agree to this. Just you and me. Agreed?" She glanced aside at Chun and Jia, who nodded—the former absently, the latter reluctantly.

 

As Xiu took her position across from Tigress, lifting her head so that she could skewer the leader of the Five from beneath the shadowing brim of her hat, she also brandished in one hand the war fan which, according to Po and Tai Lung, was normally wielded by the middle sister. The striped feline frowned, but she supposed it couldn't be helped; she hadn't insisted they fight bare-pawed before the agreement was made, after all, and it wasn't as if she'd never fought opponents before when they had weapons and she had none.

 

Before she could carefully choose her best strategy to employ against the Wu Sister, however, or otherwise prepare and coordinate herself for what was to come, Xiu flicked her wrist, making the fan twitch visibly in an unmistakable 'come-and-get-it' gesture. And she added off-handedly, "Anyway, I'm all yours. Come and take what you want out of my pelt, if you can, for what I did to the panda. I had no idea he meant so much to you, dear. Maybe you wanted a little _ménage à_ _trois_ with him and Tai Tai?" And she winked bawdily.

 

That was the last straw. Adding that to the already sick, depraved intimations she'd made earlier about the snow leopard, this was enough to set her off completely. With a blood-curling roar, Tigress immediately launched herself forward at the assassin with both paws darting out in a flurry of motion.

 

Unfortunately, the cloud of aggression and her almost feral mindset were at this point liabilities, not assets, as she soon discovered to her painful detriment. The fight was as short as Wu Chun had predicted, as well as brutally humiliating even as it remained deft, fluid, and graceful, like one of the sisters' namesakes.

 

Even as she lurched forward to slam the ball of her palm into Xiu's midsection, the snow leopardess stepped aside and back, flinging her black cloak up to intervene and catch her fist in its swirling tangles—and as Tigress cursed and hurriedly pulled free of the cloth, a small but powerful paw lashed out to slug her instead, catching her right in the diaphragm and knocking the wind out of her.

 

While she was still doubled over, the eldest Wu Sister twisted about to bring her fan-bearing paw up and across in a slashing crescent. At the last second Tigress managed to lean away out of range, although the blades still tore into the fabric of her vest right along her ribcage. Snarling, she rose up only to duck down again so as to deliver the fastest and most forceful roundhouse she'd ever used—only to completely miss, as Xiu ducked straight downward, almost disappearing in the pool formed by her crumpling cloak on the ground.

 

Evasive and agile as ever, the assassin slithered backwards like a serpent even as she struck out with one foot, sweeping Tigress's legs out from under her. Rising up with an even more furious growl, the striped feline pushed off with one foot and leaped in mid-air, this time succeeding in landing a stunning blow right to Xiu's breastbone, sending her flying back at least ten feet across the clearing. Flashing her fangs in a gleaming grin, she quickly pursued and pressed her advantage.

 

Back and forth across the narrow glade they fought, with the tide of battle switching from one combatant to the other with a suddenness and rapidity that any observer would have found astonishing. Xiu cut Tigress again, this time in the upper arm and deeply enough to slice right down to the bone, but the leader of the Furious Five retaliated with a Tiger Fist that knocked the assassin's head back. The snow leopardess deflected her next strike with an upraised forearm, but Tigress latched onto her cloak and yanked her to a halt, so quickly and forcefully that Xiu's hands flew at once to her neck, struggling to undo the clasp as gagging and retching sounds filled the night air.

 

A surgical kick to Tigress's kneecap made her leg give out under her so that she lost her hold on the black cloth, and then while she was still kneeling, a stinging pain accompanied the blow of Xiu's closed fan across the back of her neck. Again she snatched for the cloak, but this time as she caught it and jerked, the spotted feline adroitly and sinuously wriggled free, leaving her with only an empty robe and hat dangling limply from her paws—and then a wicked laugh echoed around her as the killer leaped behind her, her foot striking unerringly in the small of Tigress's back, right over the kidneys, and she fell flat on her face with a roar of agony.

 

Of course, while she was still down, Xiu came at her again, leaving her no chance for respite or recovery—the fan open again to slash and slice repeatedly at Tigress's downed form, cutting into her face, her arms, her sides. Shoving the snow leopardess away with a snarl and a punch to the gut, she staggered upright, bleeding and stinging, even as she curled her fingers and struck one narrow shoulder with bruising force, twisting Xiu back at an angle.

 

Forcing herself to tune out the pain, to make it recede into a dull ache and then nothing at all as she lost herself in the humming void of combat, Tigress came body-to-body with her adversary, refusing to allow her the room for properly employing her fan, limiting it to close-quarters fighting only.

 

But the wily Tibetan cat was still too damn skilled for her own good, managing to bring the spread wedge upward to consistently block her again and again—punches, an elbow to the solar plexus, a fist to the face, even a kick meant to crack the assassin's hipbone were all diverted, shunted aside, or outright halted by that hated fan. If she didn't loathe Xiu with every bone in her body, and secretly fear what she could do if she were not stopped, she'd be privately admiring the skill and talent she evinced. She could believe what Mei Ling had told them all: this Wu Sister, at least, _had_ been the best of her class at Li Dai.

 

Any more thought vanished as her anger continued to consume her, only growing more wild and frantic as all of her assaults and attacks were deflected and left little to no mark on Xiu. Balling her fists, Tigress threw away almost all pretense at planning and precision, simply hurling herself at the snow leopardess with all her paws and feet lashing out to pummel her into submission.

 

Step by step, she forced Xiu to retreat toward the tree line, although the flickering fan still blocked and batted aside her blows with such ease it was as if she were knocking falling leaves out of the air. With each one that failed to land, she felt her blood boil all the hotter, making her launch two or three more, and so the cycle of fury spiraled inside her.

 

She was losing control; she knew it. As she had told Tai Lung at Bao Gu, a berserker rage she'd only felt during particularly intense and violent battles was taking her over, and with it all she could think, all she could feel, was a need to hurt, to batter, to rip the snow leopardess's treacherous, lying throat out. But she seemed unable to do so, and it only made her more wild and undisciplined in her attacks.

 

The tree was right behind Xiu; she had nowhere else to retreat. Tigress kicked her in the spleen, making her stagger; brought an arm up to slam her elbow into her chest; managed to slip a punch in that nearly snapped her head all the way back and sent a few teeth flying in a bloody spray. But then, just as she felt a surge of victory in her heart, the assassin retaliated, so quickly she couldn't even track the movements. The fan was again upraised, sending her incoming paw flinging off to the side, almost slamming her knuckles into the solid trunk—and then it closed with a _snap_ , only to swiftly invert, flipped so that the bone and teakwood handle struck Tigress right in the trachea.

 

Choking and gasping with a horrible gurgling sound, as the pain was excruciating and she felt as if her windpipe had been crushed, the striped feline stumbled back. Breathlessly clutching at her throat with both paws, she was left almost completely defenseless when Xiu attacked again. She felt something give way in her side as a foot slammed into her with stunning force, heard something crack—and in seconds a flurry of return blows was being rained upon her.

 

Finally getting her arms up to block the snow leopardess, Tigress kicked once, twice, three times, finally slamming her opponent back into the tree so that a shower of pale, moonlit birch bark fell down around her in fragments and strips. But when she came in for a follow-up drop-kick, Xiu reacted with blinding speed, catching her foot in mid-air…and with a vicious yank and a smug grin, twisted it sharply to the side and up. _No!_

 

Agony exploded in her ankle, and she cried out in a strangled roar as tears sprang to her eyes. Falling back with an embarrassing whimper, Tigress staggered and fell, clutching her side and favoring her leg—but with one final supreme act of will, she ignored the flaming pain in her joint and stood on the bad limb so as to bring the other foot up in a well-aimed roundhouse.

 

This time, she struck her target—knocking the war fan from Xiu's paw and sending it flying across the clearing to disappear in the underbrush. Grinning fiercely through her gritted teeth as she bit back further cries, Tigress slammed her opponent back into the tree once more, pinning her in place with her free arm and the knee of her injured leg. "I think…" she panted, "I've proven which of us is the better fighter, Xiu."

 

Somehow, despite the pain and constriction she had to be feeling as a muscular arm crushed her own ribcage into her lungs, the assassin was smirking as she narrowed her blue eyes in the shadows. "Hmmm. Or maybe just which one of us is too stubborn to know when to give up. You may have the upper hand…but you're also hurt far worse than me, Master Tigress. Do you really think you can keep this pace up for long?"

 

" _Try_ me." She pressed harder still, until she could feel the other woman's heart thudding beneath her paw. "I only need a little more time…just a little more…"

 

Xiu sighed dramatically. "This is getting tiresome." Her eyes flicked to something over Tigress's shoulder. The tiniest of nods…she started to turn, to look back at the clearing behind her…

 

Something slammed into the back of her head—something incredibly heavy and solid, something made of metal, and she screamed as she felt her skull partly give way with a crunch of bone. Her paw flew to her scalp…she felt thick fluid coursing down over her fingers, liquid that looked disturbingly black in the moonlight…she was stumbling backwards, releasing Xiu from her numb grip without truly being aware of it…stepped on her bad ankle and collapsed on the ground in a heap.

 

She felt an odd sense of doubling—both completely in the moment, suffering from the pounding, head-splitting anguish, and also somehow detached, hovering and observing her plight with bemusement. How could this have happened to her? How could she have let herself so badly miscalculate? How could she have trusted…?

 

As she lay sprawled on the leaf-strewn earth, her eyes starting to glaze over as they stared up at the canopy with the moon and stars faintly spilling through, she saw Wu Chun standing over her, green eyes cold and faintly amused as she casually coiled her meteor hammer back up, one of its weighted balls dripping with congealing blood. Her blood. There was so much of it…

 

"But…" Her tongue was thickly swollen in her mouth, her voice raspy and harsh after the blow to her trachea, and her thoughts fuzzy and becoming ever more disjointed with the growing dizziness, but she still forced out the words. "You promised. You…said it would just be…you and me." Not that that mattered; why did it surprise her that the Wu Sisters were conniving cheats?

 

Wu Jia stood nearby, arms crossed over her narrow chest as she smirked down in vindication, but it was Wu Xiu, returning with her hat, cloak, and fan, who answered as she came to stand on Tigress's other side, a knife removed from its sheath to glint sharply in the light. "I never said how _long_ it would only be you and me," she observed with sardonic cruelty. "You _really_ should learn to read the fine print before you agree to anything, dear." The dagger lifted above her, poised to descend toward her exposed chest…

 

Somewhere in the distance, dimly, she heard a voice—male, deep, authoritative but also concerned. She thought she knew it, she knew she should recognize it, but somehow she couldn't. The loamy ground beneath her face shook and shivered with resonant thuds as someone came running toward her, but she couldn't lift her head to see who it was. _No. Whoever it is, they've got to get out of here, or they'll be killed too, like me…_

 

Xiu vanished, followed almost immediately by her sisters. There was a swirl of cloaks, a flash of moonlight off of straw _li_ s, muttered curses and snarls of outrage as they were forced to flee and yet again leave their work undone. And then they were gone, and she was alone save for her rescuer.

 

Warm arms—strong arms, muscular arms—slid gently underneath her prone form, and she felt herself falling limply against an equally powerful chest. She couldn't tell who it was who had found her…but a part of her, an increasingly large part, hoped it was Tai Lung, even wanted it to be him. She felt as much as heard his voice rumbling against her face… "It'll be all right, I'll get you back to the Palace, don't you worry…"

 

Her last thought, as she faded into blissful darkness that she knew, with her head injury, she really should be trying to stave off, was: _At least I can finally get some decent sleep…_

                                                                       

* * *

 

With a low, painful groan, Tigress slowly opened her eyes—and immediately had to shield them with one paw as the sudden wash of bright light set off a stabbing pain in her head. Only when her eyes had adjusted did she feel safe enough to stop squinting and peer about. She was back in her room in the Jade Palace bunkhouse, and a large form, clearly male with broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms, loomed over her.

 

It had to be Tai Lung, there was no other that size in the Valley who had a reason to be here. And unlike when she'd been on the verge of unconsciousness and barely aware of what she was doing, now her hatred and resentment reasserted themselves with alacrity. She didn't want or need cuddling, pampering, or assistance from anyone, least of all him!

 

Openly snarling, she struggled to sit up, swiping at him with one paw, claws brandished—but two things stopped her: the unexpected wave of dizziness that surged through her aching head until she almost passed out again, and the figure putting up both hands in a placating gesture as he spoke…in a warm, genial voice that definitely did not belong to the snow leopard.

 

"Hey, hey, it's all right, Master Tigress. You're safe now, no enemies here. Don't you remember me? I worked on the palace, and we met at the festival?"

 

It was Shen Zhuang.

 

Even as the striped feline was trying to wrap her mind around the fact the bull had turned out to be her rescuer, the rice-paper door of her room suddenly banged open, and the spotted kung fu warrior she least wanted to see stood framed in the entrance, moonlight spilling across his upper torso so that his white chest fur gleamed brightly in the shadows. On his face was an expression she had never seen before and never believed possible: stark fear, and frantic worry.

 

As soon as he laid eyes on her, something seemed to let go inside him, and every muscle went slack and limp as he let out a huge, explosive sigh. "Oh, thank the gods! When you ran out like that, I was so certain you—I was just about to rouse the whole—" He seemed unable to complete a coherent thought, until finally he blurted out, "Don't you _ever_ do that again!"

 

Tigress was still staring at him in confusion, swiftly turning to fury, indignation, and (though she refused to admit it) an increasingly tender wonder, when Zhuang suddenly intervened with a cautionary hand on Tai Lung's shoulder. "Whoa, easy there, big guy. Might wanna scale it back a little there. I really don't think a lecture and giving orders is the best way to talk to Tigress, you know?"

 

The snow leopard glared at him briefly, then sighed and nodded, unclenching his paws and loosening the extremely taut knots she could see under his silvery-gray pelt. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm calm." Pausing to quickly throw an apologetic glance at the striped feline, who couldn't help staring at him in suspicion and puzzlement, he turned back to the builder. "How…how did you find her? I didn't think anyone else was around who could possibly help."

 

Zhuang nodded to an axe which was leaning conspicuously against the nearby bedside table. "I was out there in the forest, chopping wood…"

 

"In the middle of the night?" Tigress finally managed to exclaim skeptically. "A little late for getting logs for the fire, isn't it?"

 

The bull shrugged. "What? I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd get an early start on my orders for tomorrow. Birch wood's getting pretty in demand, and that's about the only birch forest in the Valley." He paused, then smirked lopsidedly. "And don't you think you're looking at this the wrong way? I know you probably don't want anyone to catch you helpless and in trouble like that, but if I hadn't been out there, who knows when anyone would've found you?"

 

For a moment, Tigress exchanged a distressed look with Tai Lung, but then the snow leopard was leaning forward, his expression intent. "D'you know what happened out there? Did you see anyone?"

 

The foreman paused, giving the ex-convict an odd look, but then he shook his head. "I heard voices—women, I think. And what sounded like a battle going on. But when I got there, I only found Master Tigress. I guess I scared them off, whoever they were."

 

Tai Lung looked extraordinarily grateful, and Tigress suddenly realized why with a chill: the Wu Sisters had made it a point to flee the scene in Yunxian, the better to confuse the Five and leave Tai Lung with the blame for their crime, but clearly they'd also simply not wished to be seen. An assassin's job would be much easier if no one knew they were present, if they remained an elusive figure in the shadows, unknown and mysterious. The longer their presence was undetected and no one in the Valley was aware they were on the move, the more they could get away with, slipping in and out without anyone being the wiser, continuing to plague the Jade Palace with their depredations, tricks, and deceptions.

 

So if Zhuang had managed to catch sight of them, identify them, and give away their arrival…

 

"Ah, I see," Tai Lung finally broke the oppressive silence. "Well, that is a bit of bad luck, friend. Still, you've done a good deed today. Without you, Tigress might well have bled to death."

 

The striped feline tentatively put a paw to her head, unobtrusively ascertaining the extent of her injury. It only took her a moment to discover the entire back of her head was covered with some sort of cloth bandage wound into place—and in more than a few places it was damp and sticky. Wincing in pain as she now recalled how the meteor hammer had treacherously smashed into her skull, she fingered the cloth again—linen? Flicking her eyes to Zhuang, she saw that the bull was shirtless save for a few scraps of cloth around his thick neck and draping down his collarbone. He'd torn his garment to help her…

 

Her thoughts were interrupted as the bull shrugged amiably again, a concerned light in his eyes and a sheepish grin on his muzzle. "It was nothing, Tai. Anyone else would've done the same. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time. Whoever did this…they must be a real piece of work. If I ever find out who it was, and catch 'em alone somewhere…"

 

Zhuang cracked his knuckles ominously, smacking his meaty fist into his palm with such force the motion rippled all across his bare chest. And the heat blazing in his brandy-brown eyes was only matched by that of the steamy breath snorted vigorously from his nostrils.

 

Tigress found herself slightly smiling, touched at the bull's genuine loyalty and inclination to true heroism…even as she privately swore to keep him as far as possible from those sadistic felines. But she wasn't the only one affected by Zhuang's impromptu oath. For after staring at him silently for several stunned moments, Tai Lung abruptly lunged forward and caught the bull in a rough, fierce embrace.

 

As he held the bovine tightly, gripping his back as if he never planned to let go, the striped feline was surprised and overwhelmed to see gratitude and relief flooding those golden orbs. When he spoke, it was in a slightly croaking whisper, nevertheless quite audible in the quiet room. "Thank you…thank you so much, my friend. You have no idea how much this means to me…"

 

Shaking her head—gently—the leader of the Furious Five didn't know what to think. _Am I hallucinating, after that blow? Or could he really care for me that much…?_

 

Awkwardly, Zhuang patted Tai Lung's spotted back, but when he spoke his voice was rather strangled, too. "Er…you're welcome. But…uh…I kinda need to…you know, breathe…"

 

With a strange combination of reluctance and eagerness, Tai Lung let go and stepped back, clasping his paws somewhat nervously as he chuckled under his breath. At any other time, Tigress would have found it endearing—or else ridiculous. "Of course. Yes. Just so you know."

 

It was in the middle of this unusual scene, with Zhuang crossing his arms over his chest and grinning openly, that another large figure appeared in the doorway—not just in height, but in width. One covered with black-and-white fur. "Tigress!" Po exclaimed, panting even though he'd barely had far to come. "I heard Tai, and I saw Zhuang come in with you…I've already got Mantis workin' on some herbal remedies for your head. Tai told me about the Sisters, an' what ya did. Is…is there anywhere else you're hurt?" The panda looked more worried and upset than she'd ever seen him. In spite of herself, Tigress felt her heart swell with pleasure again.

 

Even as she was about to answer with a clinical but wry tone that she was fine save for a truly stupendous headache, the bull answered for her. "Bruised ribs, I think one might be cracked. Some pretty bad cuts and slashes. And you've got yourself a nasty twisted ankle there."

 

Reaching down, she carefully began poking and prodding at her body, and it didn't take her long at all to discover Zhuang was right. She could feel the pain in her sides throbbing in counterpoint to her head, the stinging of each and every laceration Xiu's war fan had given her…and as soon as she touched it, the agony in her inflamed ankle made her have to bite her lip until it bled to hold back a shriek—as it was, a whimper still escaped. Along with it, though, she also began to mutter and curse to herself.

 

These sorts of injuries would put her out of commission for quite a while, and though she knew with Mantis's help she would heal quickly, during that time she would be unable to protect the Valley, and the Wu Sisters might well strike again while they had free rein and the rest of the Five were ill-prepared and unready. It would also mean she'd be unable to train Po, or prevent Tai Lung from doing so in her stead—or at least from supervising such sessions.

 

Worst of all, it meant she would be helpless, dependent on others, a failure, worthless. All because she had rushed off to face the assassins without thinking, to gain vengeance and prove herself to both Shifu and Po. And that was all something she could not face, or accept.

 

As if her thoughts had guided his, Zhuang shook his horned head again and chuckled, wryly and resignedly. "Looks like when you aren't tucked into bed, you're gonna have to be carried bridal-style everywhere you wanna go. Maybe you should do the honors, Tai?"

 

Tigress glared frostily at the bull, whose laugh faded into a weak, strained snicker as he saw his rescue would not excuse him from her wrath if he pushed it. "Er…um, then again, maybe not?"

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the snow leopard smirk as well before swiftly smothering it behind a paw clasped musingly to his chin. She could still see the satisfaction brimming over in his golden eyes, however, and groaned inwardly. _You have **got** to be kidding me…_

 

Just as Tigress was about to snap a scathing reply, something on the order of Shifu never granting permission for such a union, reconciliation or no, and that she in turn would scar Tai Lung for life in unmentionable places if he dared lay a paw on her that way, Po suddenly spoke up again. He sounded relieved and calmer, but also oddly diffident, even strained, as if he were struggling to hold back some intense emotion.

 

"Well, don't worry, Zhuang, we'll all take real good care of her here, won't we, buddy? But, uh…shouldn't ya go fetch Mantis t' see how he's comin' along with that?" He rubbed a paw at the back of his neck. "Besides, if ya don't mind, I'd like t' talk t' Tigress alone for a little bit…"

 

Everyone eyed him askance, and while Tigress didn't know what the others were thinking, she was fairly sure they were at least confused by Po's behavior. She knew she was. And as Zhuang and Tai Lung exchanged a long, meaningful glance before departing (the latter only under protest, she thought), the Dragon Warrior only made Tigress wonder all the more.

 

For while he closed the rice-paper door behind the other males with the usual care and gentleness, something in the rigid curve of his shoulders bespoke overwhelming disappointment. When he finally turned around to face her, the striped feline was startled, and unexpectedly chagrined, to see disbelief, annoyance, and even anger shimmering in those green eyes.

 

"So," he said at last in a deceptively soft tone, "you gonna explain what this was all about, Tigress?"

 

The leader of the Furious Five blinked, feeling very bewildered now as she stared at Po. This was the last thing she'd expected. Concern, a hint of panic, gushing fanboyish-ness as he saw his personal hero was alive and mostly well, yes. But this was different. The panda was focused, determined…and smoldering with resentment unless she missed her guess. And the only reason she could think of for him feeling this way was one it seemed impossible the panda could understand or believe.

 

Either way, she couldn't very well admit to him what she'd seen in Tai Lung's room or why she'd gone racing off into the forest, let alone what had happened between her and the sisters. So, she decided to be evasive. "What was _what_ about, panda? One of the Wu Sisters invaded the palace, I chased her, and found I bit off a bit more than I could chew." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice and didn't try. "End of story."

 

To her shock, the Dragon Warrior openly glared at her, fists posted on his wide hips as he stepped closer to loom above her bed. "No, that's not the end, I know there's more to it than that. Ya wanna try that again?"

 

"What's there to explain?" Tigress snapped. "They tried to kill you, Po! And they made me think Tai Lung did it. That's unforgivable, they had to pay! And they still will, once I'm better…"

 

Po gave her a withering look that would have made metal crumple. "So it's all about revenge, huh? Or was it just 'cause your pride got hurt? 'Cause that's not just wrong…it sure reminds me of Tai. You ready yet t' admit you two aren't that different?"

 

The striped feline bristled openly. "No, that's not it at all!" _Well, maybe a little._ "If you must know, I believe it wasn't fair of the Wu Sisters to trick me into turning on Tai Lung like that, and so ruin his chances to turn his life around. It…wasn't fair of me." Her voice dropped along with her eyes.

 

Yet the panda wasn't through with her yet, it seemed. "Okay, fine. Even so…I may not have known you long, Tigress, but this doesn't seem like you. You always got somethin' t' prove? Gotta be the best, the one t' save the day, get all the glory, is that it?"

 

" _What_?" She didn't know if she was angrier at his implications—or the fact they hit uncomfortably close to the truth. As it was, her entire body was trembling, and not just from the shock of her injuries setting in. "I would _never_ …how dare you suggest I…this is about justice, doing what's right, and protecting the Valley of Peace. Nothing more! You want to make something of it, something that's not even there, be my guest, but you know what that will get you. I was only doing my duty, fulfilling my oaths as a kung fu warrior, and—"

 

"Master Tigress," Po interrupted her firmly, "you're my idol and my hero, and I love ya like a sister, but right now you'd better shut up an' let me talk, or neither one of us is gonna like where this goes."

 

She was so stunned, insulted, and more than a little distressed to hear the usually amiable, good-hearted panda talk this way that she swallowed whatever she was going to say and let him speak. As soon as he was sure her muzzle was clamped shut, the bear relented and softened his expression—a little. But as he plunked himself down on a stool near her bedside and eyed her knowingly, Tigress still spied that constant anguish and scorn lurking just under the surface.

 

"Look. I know ya got reason t' be jealous about a lotta things. Me, for starters, takin' away somethin' you dreamed about almost as much as Tai did. Tai himself, for masterin' all the scrolls—though I really think you're sellin' yourself short there, the same way Tai did. You're a kung fu master, leader of the Furious Five, but you didn't master the thousand scrolls. Tai did, but he wasn't made the Dragon Warrior. Is this never bein' satisfied with what ya got some kinda cat thing?"

 

Before she could nastily deny it, or call him on his lack of credibility, he held up a black-furred paw. "I know, I'm no one t' talk, I had a dream t' be more'n what I was, too. But the difference is, I didn't go lookin' for somethin' I didn't have, and forget about the things I'd been given already. I wanted t' do cool stuff, yeah, be a hero, but I also wanted t' better myself. That's what kung fu's all about." His eyes narrowed. "You and Tai? You just wanna be better, period. Ya gotta learn t' stop that."

 

Breath rasping in her dry throat, Tigress couldn't help balling her fists, though she was rather shaken by Po's insight—and how she herself was lacking, failing to meet Shifu's standards or her own. "And where do you get off telling me something like this? Where do you get the right—"

 

"I got every right," the panda retorted, cutting her off again. "'Cause you're actin' no better'n I did. Worse even. When Tai and I fought the sisters—yeah, I screwed up big time. You called me on it, an' you were right to. But that just makes it real easy t' see when someone else does the same thing. I wasn't ready, I went into the fight thinkin' it was gonna be like when I fought Tai. I was wrong, an' I paid for it, an' if it weren't for Tai and Mantis, I'd be dead now."

 

Now it was his turn to swallow against a lump in his throat. "But I'm tryin' t' make up for it, I'm learnin' an' trainin' harder'n ever. What are _you_ doin'?"

 

"I—I train in the kwoon every day, of course," Tigress replied, somewhat confused and flabbergasted at this angle of attack and still rather angry at his temerity, even as she secretly admired it.

 

"That's not what I meant." Po sighed. "You got after me for failin' and almost losin' my life. And now, just a week or so later, you turn around and do almost the exact same thing—and you don't see anything wrong with that?" He stabbed a pudgy finger at her, and somehow it felt like a knife thrust to the heart.

 

"You ran off into the woods, half-cocked, without any weapons or backup. You left the rest of us behind, like ya tried t' do when you went to face Tai Lung. Even though you lost then, an' this time you'd be facin' _three_ bad guys, not one, who'd beat the pants off me an' Tai both. All you had on your side was strength, determination, and your mad-on. I didn't have anything either, but at least I didn't go _lookin'_ for trouble, it went and found me."

 

Once more he paused, and when he finally continued, Po's words were all the more painful because they were spoken quietly rather than shouted, with a gruff thickness that wasn't all due to his scar. "My point is, you screwed up, too, Tigress. But you aren't doin' anything about it, you're just placin' blame, makin' excuses, pointin' the finger at someone else instead of you. It sure doesn't look good from where I'm sittin'." His face became, if possible, even stonier. "So I need t' know: what in the _hell_ were you thinkin', runnin' off like that, puttin' yourself in danger? I'm still workin' on my skills, I'm about as new to this as they come. What's your excuse?"

 

Tigress's jaw dropped, then worked soundlessly, her mind in a whirl and thoughts foggy—and not just due to her injury. Because the longer she stared at Po, the more she began to curse and berate herself—again. With penetrating insight and great maturity—exactly what she'd demanded of him—he had seen straight to the heart of her hypocrisy and childishness. She _had_ acted as impulsively as he did, in fact even more irrationally.

 

And why? To show up Tai Lung and Mei Ling? To prove she was better than them? To claim vengeance on the Wu Sisters? To look truly heroic? Yet what had she gained for her troubles? She would likely have been killed if Zhuang hadn't shown up to save her. She probably had a concussion. The injuries she'd sustained would take her out of the fighting for at least a month, probably more. For all that time of her recovery, she'd be unable to help if that unknown killer struck again, not to mention having to be waited on hand and foot like a high-born lady of the Imperial City—most likely by Tai Lung, if his earlier response to Zhuang was any indication.

 

And all her battle had accomplished was to make her look even more a fool…and hurt those who cared about her.

 

"I'm…I'm so sorry, Po," she finally managed to say in a small voice. "I…I truly don't know what's gotten into me lately. I just…it hurt me so much, to see what Xiu did to you. I wasn't thinking at all, you're right about that. All I could think of was punishing her for what she did. I…none of us could bear to lose you, you almost died…" _And they made me hurt Tai Lung. Whatever else he is, or what he's done, he didn't deserve that. Not for this._

 

"I only wanted to stop them," she continued, forcing back the emotion so her voice wouldn't break. "I wanted to do something truly heroic, because I haven't felt like one since before the Thread of Hope. I thought if I could stop the Wu Sisters now, before they did any more harm, and save the Valley, then…"

 

"Then I'd start treatin' you like my hero again, instead of Tai?" Po smiled for the first time since the snow leopard and bull had left the room—gentle and caring.

_Was I that obvious?_ Tigress thought ruefully. "Er…yes, I'm afraid so."

 

"And why was that so important to ya?" The question was leading, his tone encouraging, but she didn't mind somehow.

 

It took her a few moments to feel her way toward an answer, a few more to bring herself to admit it. "Because…I care about you, Po. Because you show so much knowledge and respect for kung fu—I was wrong about that. You're the Dragon Warrior, but more than that…you're my friend. I didn't want to lose you—or your respect." Damn her eyes, but they were already leaking tears.

 

Unsurprisingly, the panda's weren't much better, and his paw soon reached out to grasp hers tightly. "That's really sweet, Tigress. Thank you. But you don't have to worry. You always had my respect, an' ya always will. It's only when ya pull stunts like this that it upsets me. Otherwise, you're not gonna lose me. Especially not because of Tai. I want t' help him be a hero again. Doesn't mean I don't still think you're one. Plenty of room t' share."

 

His expression became resolute. "An' you're not gonna lose me t' the sisters either. I promise ya that. I'm gonna learn all I can, all I have to, from everyone…so the next time we meet, I'm gonna kick their butts."

 

Tigress chuckled, but inwardly she was still marveling at how she had admitted something so personal and private when she never would have before…that Po had not judged or rejected her for it, but understood…and that what she had thought would feel shameful was instead liberating and amazingly reassuring. It was just as Oogway had said, Po did indeed bring peace to the Valley—and to everyone in it.

 

For a startled moment she wondered if that included Tai Lung too, for while not native to it he had certainly grown up there—or was it even possible now for him to find peace, even if she stopped making it more difficult for him? _You'll never know if you don't try_.

 

"I just need ya t' promise me one thing in return," Po suddenly added, breaking into her thoughts.

 

"What's that?" she replied distractedly, though she thought she knew already what it would be.

 

The panda smirked wryly, even as his words once again became strong and insistent. "That ya don't ever do anythin' like this again. 'Cause you may have wanted t' stop the sisters from ever takin' me away for good…but none of us wants t' lose you either. We need you, Tigress. You're the leader of the Furious Five! An' who else is gonna tell Mantis t' shut up when he gets goin' on one of his dirty jokes? Or steal Viper's romance books when she's not lookin'? Or get after Monkey for leavin' the bathhouse a mess? And the maintenance guys wouldn't have half as much t' do without you around t' smash the training hall t' smithereens every other day."

 

Despite the fact it hurt her head to do so, Tigress couldn't help laughing by the end of this recitation. "Okay, fine, I give! You win, panda. No more dangerous outings for me."

 

"Good!" the bear exclaimed, grinning his usual goofy grin—but somehow it seemed endearing now, rather than annoying. "'Cause what do you think Master Shifu would do if he lost ya? Or Tai? Or…me?"

_Shifu wouldn't give a damn_ , Tigress thought rebelliously. But she knew that, whether she believed it or not, the ex-convict did care deeply about her—and so did Po. Even if she still didn't know how to handle Tai Lung, she refused to hurt or worry the Dragon Warrior any more.

 

And maybe, just perhaps, despite the cold callousness with which he'd treated her since her adoption from Bao Gu, it might just be the red panda hadn't lost the ability to love after Tai Lung. If she could give the snow leopard another chance, surely her master and father deserved one even more.

 

"I don't know," Tigress admitted at last. "But none of you will ever have to find out. I promise." The striped feline managed a small, warm smile…and she didn't even resist when Po drew her into a tight hug against his broad, thickly-furred chest and belly. This was something he needed…and, she realized, so did she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter was just too much fun to resist as a way to bring the sisters to the Valley. No, I'm not going to give Tai and Tigress a moment's peace, they have to earn their happiness. Of course the dream that has a basis in reality is a classic, especially when it comes to naughtiness in the bedroom.
> 
> Yet another reference to _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ is the appearance of the Wu Sisters in the birch forest, dressed in their cloaks and _li_ s—it's an exact image found in the book as drawn by Nicolas Marlet, which I have also included directly within the chapter. I hope I succeeded in capturing the creepy, eerie feel of the picture.
> 
> In the meantime, now you have at least an inkling how the sisters feel about Mei Ling—perhaps not all of them are completely evil after all?—and there's a lot more fuel for upcoming plot. What Tigress's accidental revelation about Mei will mean for any danger to her will remain to be seen, but at least now you can see that finally, at long last, she may be about to come to terms with how she feels about Tai Lung. Assuming he doesn't do anything to screw up his chances, of course. Will Viper help, or just make things worse?


	24. The Dangers of Confidence

 

 

" ** _OW_** _!_ "

 

"Quit your struggling, damnit, and maybe it wouldn't hurt so much! If you'd just stay still…I'm _trying_ to be as gentle as I can be."

 

" _This_ is gentle? Don't make me laugh. You're getting off on how tight it is, admit it."

 

"If it were that tight, you wouldn't even be able to speak. Which, about now, is sounding like a rather pleasant prospect, if you ask me!"

 

"So sorry to disappoint you! Don't you like your victims alive and conscious for this?"

 

"You know, I didn't do this to you, Tigress. So I'd truly appreciate it if you could dispense with the snide commentary."

 

"I will, just as soon as you stop—ow, not so hard!"

 

"You know," Mantis observed casually from beside the brazier where the water for Tigress's poultice boiled merrily above the fire, "this would sound _really_ bad to anybody who didn't know what you were talking about."

 

"Only to you, you nasty little pervert," Tai Lung grumbled peevishly as he tossed the roll of bandages, just missing hitting the insect in the back of the head. Mantis only laughed, low and throaty, and continued stirring.

 

It was the morning after Tigress's little jaunt into the woods and her rather ignominious defeat at the paws of the Wu Sisters. Needless to say, as soon as news of what had taken place the night before had reached the rest of the residents of the Palace (courtesy of both Po and Tai Lung), everyone had been quick to descend upon the striped feline's room—though for widely disparate reasons.

 

Of course, Viper had been overcome with remorse and distress at her closest friend's condition, and if her temperament hadn't been more easygoing and gentle, she might well have gone slithering out for revenge herself courtesy of her fearsome fangs. Mei Ling (now _there_ was a girl with a good head on her shoulders, and everything else to go with it…) had been stunned to learn her half-sisters were already in the Valley and she had somehow missed discovering it.

 

When she wasn't apologizing on the assassins' behalf for Tigress's injuries, and with great insight and sensitivity noting that anyone, even the mountain cat herself, would have been hard-pressed to defeat the Wu Sisters alone (especially when they were so dishonorable and unfair), she seemed dead-set on making the same mistake as the leader of the Five and charging off into the forest for the showdown she so devoutly yearned for…a prospect that, significantly, made Crane quite nervous and distracted so that he barely said two words to Tigress beyond murmured condolences.

 

Monkey had been furious, his expression uglier and more menacing than Mantis had ever seen it, although for some inexplicable reason he still seemed to be directing at least some of his anger at the snow leopard—whether because he felt Tai Lung should have stopped Tigress somehow, he blamed the spotted feline for the sisters coming to the Valley in the first place, or he simply didn't like the idea of the ex-convict now making himself her caregiver. To everyone's shock, the Dragon Warrior refused to allow the primate to get anywhere near Tai Lung, and if Shifu hadn't shown up to order Monkey to depart as he was disturbing Tigress's rest, Po would very likely have dragged the simian forcibly from the room!

 

The red panda himself had his own reasons for wanting to intervene. On the one hand, he was determined to hear all the details of what had transpired, and as soon as he learned Zhuang's part in saving Tigress's life, the master of the Jade Palace had tried to insist upon some sort of reward for the builder. The bull, naturally, refused on the spot, although in the end he did agree to accept whatever odd jobs could be found for him to do around the palace—not for the money, but so as to be on-hand should anyone else need his assistance or protection. Not that he believed he could do something which nine kung fu masters could not, but he cared about their welfare as so many in the Valley did, and wished to help wherever possible. The fact this would allow little Yi many opportunities to visit Tai Lung, and perhaps someday see if she had any aptitude for kung fu herself, was just an added bonus.

 

On the other hand, once that issue was dealt with and Shifu had been able to speak to Tigress alone, it had surprised no one (although it had disappointed Crane and Viper and deeply upset Po) that the red panda had castigated his adopted daughter with even more anger—and agitation. The striped feline had borne it with her usual fortitude, expressionless and emotionless, as she had sat propped up in her bed while Mantis tended to her injuries.

 

Like everyone else, the insect agreed what Tigress had done had been precipitous and foolhardy, but he rather felt she'd been through enough and already realized the grave errors she'd made. That to remind her of it and grind it in went far beyond correcting a fault or preventing its recurrence, and straight into cruel and unfair punishment.

 

The only person Mantis could think of who was as hard on themselves as Tigress was Tai Lung, though he rarely showed it in public; she took failures so personally and so painfully that Shifu's reprimand was surely a double blow of disappointment and self-recrimination for the daughter who had also only wanted his love. Yet at the same time, the way she had simply accepted the rebuke as further instruction in how to better herself as a kung fu warrior rather made Mantis proud of her.

 

All of this, of course, explained why Tigress was not in the best of moods to begin with for dealing with the snow leopard, let alone the tightly wrapped bandages which, under the insect's direction, he'd been winding around her head and ankle. Add in how the ex-convict made her feel on her best days, and that she now had to depend on him for assistance and recovery, and it was a wonder she wasn't biting his head off even more than she was.

 

Finishing up with the medicine he was concocting, and supervising with approval as Tai Lung applied the poultice and finished wrapping the bandages in place, Mantis at last nodded. "Well, that should take care of things for now, I think. The ones on your head are going to have to be changed every day, though." Tigress groaned, and the insect held up his pincers. "I know, I know, I don't have the best bedside manner out there. But who else is there to look after you, hmmm? Po's gotta train, and I _know_ you don't want Spottybutt here doing the honors." Unsurprisingly, both of the felines were giving him murderous glares now, so he decided for once that discretion was the better part of survival and beat a hasty retreat toward the door.

 

However, just as he was about to step into the hallway and head back to his own room, Mantis heard the snow leopard speak up, and he paused hovering in the doorway, twitching his antennae to listen closely.

 

"He's right, you know. And that's not all." Tai Lung's voice became surprisingly knowledgeable, as well as intent, and as Mantis looked back over his shoulder he saw the feline ticking off points on his fingers. "You're going to have to stay perfectly still much of the time—I _know_ how much you'll enjoy that, and I'm sorry, Tigress, but it's doctor's orders. We're going to need cold compresses, or even ice, for your side—perhaps we could send Crane, or better yet Zeng, to the mountains for it…"

 

The introspective, thoughtful tone left his voice as he apparently stopped being calculating and returned to lecture mode. "You're going to have to breathe deeply or cough, every hour on the hour, just to make certain your lungs don't collapse. And you're going to have to take the herbs Mantis left you for the pain."

 

Tigress was staring at him incredulously—as well as resentfully. "Since when did you become an expert on broken ribs? Or is that simply because you've caused so damn many of them?"

 

"Not at all," the snow leopard replied, surprisingly evenly. "In case you'd forgotten, I was put through just as rigorous a training by Shifu as you were, and I also pushed myself far harder than I probably should have. I'm certain _that_ sounds familiar, too. So I've had many injuries, including cracked ribs. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

 

After a brief silence, the striped feline grumbled sullenly. "You don't have to treat me like a child, Tai Lung. I've hurt my ribs before, I know what to do just as well as you do."

 

"Then why aren't you doing it?"

 

Mantis winced; Tigress might very well have met her match in stubborn willfulness, and it might also be exactly what she needed, but there was no guarantee the snow leopard would make it through unscathed if he kept on blurting out the first sarcastic thing that came to mind.

 

Nevertheless, the insect found himself slowly sidling back into the room, inching behind a silkscreen karst painting so the two arguing felines wouldn't notice him. He really wanted to find out where this was leading—completely aside from ensuring neither of them killed the other, it was the most entertaining display he'd seen in _years_.

 

The leader of the Five, meanwhile, was glaring at Tai Lung so wrathfully that if she weren't confined to her bed, Mantis was quite positive she'd be removing what made the snow leopard a man—and that would just be the appetizer. Yet after a moment, as she seemed to realize she had no choice but to acquiesce if she didn't want to endanger her health any further, she sighed and looked away.

 

"Fine, I'll rest, and use the damn ice, and breathe properly. But I am _not_ taking any of Mantis's herbs." She sniffed disdainfully. "I don't need them."

 

"What, d'you _like_ writhing in agony?" Even though he sounded quite mystified, the insect thought Tai Lung was also a bit too gleeful in puncturing Tigress's objections.

 

"I'm fine," Tigress insisted angrily. "I'm stronger than you think, I can get through this without any help. Do you think I'm a porcelain doll or something?" This last was snarled so challengingly, and with a pugnaciously outthrust chin, that it was clear Tai Lung should think long and hard before replying.

 

But of course he didn't. "Where would I get a ridiculous notion like that? Not seeing any resemblance there at _all_ , woman. A wilting flower, you certainly are not." Whether this was something to admire or resent wasn't clear from his tone. The note of smugness that soon entered it was easily discerned, however. "And if you're trying to prove something by refusing treatment, while the great Tai Lung was only too happy to drug himself into insensibility, just…don't."

 

She didn't bother to acknowledge that with a reply, only a stony silence, but that in itself said a great deal; as Mantis knew from experience, Tigress only dropped a point to switch to a different one during an argument if she knew she'd been proven wrong.

 

"Please, Tigress? Humor me?" The other feline was oddly gentle, at least until he crossed his arms and eyed her pointedly. "Don't _make_ me force-feed you." _As if you don't like the idea of shoving something in her mouth. …Did I just go there? Yes. Yes, I did._

 

With extreme reluctance, meanwhile, the striped feline finally relented again, taking even longer this time to say the words. "Whatever. If it'll get you off my back…" While Mantis was naughtily wondering whether she wouldn't prefer Tai Lung on her back, or to be on it herself (and beneath him), she continued in a more mollified tone. "Is that it? Or do you have more orders to give me…Grandpa?"

 

Peering around the edge of the silkscreen, Mantis saw Tai Lung close his eyes and struggle mightily to control his temper at that last snidely delivered word; he still growled audibly, though. "Perish the thought, but yes as a matter of fact I do. We still don't know yet if you have a concussion or not, so we're going to have to watch you very carefully for the next few days. You're not slurring and you don't seem to have any memory problems, but you have to let us know right away if you get dizzy or nauseous."

 

He paused, then smirked. "And I suppose if you start treating me with common courtesy, or heaven forbid become as sweet and light as Viper, then I really need to start worrying."

 

Tigress had the grace to flush in shame, but then she glared at him again. "Let me guess: you know all this because you had a concussion yourself once, too?" When the snow leopard nodded easily, she smiled rather evilly. "Hmm. It doesn't seem to have done much damage…or is that because it couldn't?" _Ooooo! So very low, and so very good._

 

But Tai Lung didn't take the bait; instead, he drummed his fingers on his arms and eyed her knowingly for a few moments before smiling a trifle smugly. "Come now, Tigress. I know it must be difficult, knowing you've sunk to my level, but that's no reason to make personal remarks."

 

Her gaze turned cold and flinty, yet also wary. "What are you talking about?"

 

The snow leopard rolled his eyes and laughed, yet when he spoke again he actually sounded sympathetic; if Tai Lung had changed enough because of Po's friendship to genuinely care for someone besides himself, then the panda definitely had the miraculous abilities the Dragon Warrior was reputed to have after all. Or maybe Oogway's influence had something to do with it.

 

"I meant, last night you did the exact same thing you rightfully accused me of doing when I fought Po. You got angry, you didn't think, you let your rage control you. And that's why the sisters were able to hurt you so badly, and why you lost."

 

Mantis was certain this would cause Tigress to explode in a new round of fury and vitriolic hate, her injuries notwithstanding—even though he personally couldn't agree more with Tai Lung. But whether because of the much-needed reprimand she'd received from Po the night before, because she saw the wisdom and truth in his words, or for some other reason, she didn't. Instead she stared off across the room, at something none of them could see, and very softly said, "I know."

 

Obviously that wasn't what the snow leopard had been expecting. His whole posture, the way he held his paws as if about to cover his face, the slight cringing demeanor, all suggested he was ready to shield himself from her ire. When it wasn't forthcoming, Tai Lung blinked, stared at her, and then nodded slowly. "Well…that's good. Then you know what you have to do, don't ever let it happen again." His voice was only mildly chiding, not dictatorial.

 

"You're just as dangerous as I am when you lose your temper, Master Tigress. If I have to keep myself in check, so do you. I'd suggest it's something we should work on together, since we're so much alike and have many of the same triggers…if I didn't know my very presence sets you off more than anything else." Sighing, he got up from the bed, which creaked as his significant weight left it. "Which, I believe, is my cue to leave as well. I'm going to make sure you get everything you need. I'll look after you, I'll keep away anyone who tries to bother you. But I'll also stay away myself, as much as you need me to."

 

He had barely turned away toward the door when Tigress spoke up again—her voice listless, pained, and confused. More bitter than Mantis had ever heard it. "Why…why are you doing this, Tai Lung? I already know you didn't hurt Po, you don't need to keep proving yourself to me. Is this just some sick, twisted way to torment me—hang around me as much as possible, make me have to put up with you, and then feel even worse than I already do when you actually treat me with decency and kindness?" The harshness left her tone as she gripped her bed sheets in both paws. "If so, congratulations, it's working."

 

Tai Lung paused…and when he turned back, Mantis saw from his profile that his jaw was clenched and trembling; the urge to roar and shout at her for continuing to be so unfair and disrespectful toward him must have been incredibly strong. But all he said, just as softly, was, "Because, _damnit_ , I care about you. Is that really so hard to believe?"

 

Tigress was silent, and even as he leaned forward, straining to hear what might be said next, Mantis prayed fervently that now, of all times, when things were finally becoming good, no one would catch sight of him. _C'mon, pay no attention to the bug behind the silkscreen. Pay no attention to the bug behind the silkscreen!_

 

"If this is about what you told me before," she finally said, uncomfortable and stiff, "then I'm afraid nothing has changed. You've been…learning your lessons well, Tai Lung. I'm glad you are coming to care for others besides yourself. But the answer is still no."

 

Even as Mantis was wondering just what he'd missed out on, Tai Lung groaned and shaded his eyes, shaking his head regretfully. "I know it's a lot to ask…I know you have no reason to believe me…but why can't you even consider the possibility I might love you, Tigress?" His voice became more impassioned, as well as tinged with resentment and bluster, as he stalked back toward the bedside.

 

"D'you think you're that unlovable? Is it because you've only got Shifu's illustrious example as a basis for comparison? If so, I don't blame you…" He sighed heavily. "I know there's so much working against us. I know there are so many reasons why us becoming a couple is a damned terrible idea; believe me, I know! But that doesn't mean we still shouldn't try and give it a chance…"

 

An equally heavy sigh came from the bed, and then Tigress spoke up, sounding both resigned and bemused. "Tai Lung…it's just the same words again, I told you. You can't really be in love with me."

 

"Maybe not yet," he answered stubbornly. "But give me time. I already care about you more than I ever have anyone, except maybe Shifu."

 

Tigress raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

 

"What?"

 

"Tell me, Tai Lung: how much time do you spend thinking of me? If you're hopelessly in love with me, then surely you must spend a lot of time getting dreamy-eyed about me."

 

Without hesitation, the snow leopard said, "All the time. Every chance I get. Every minute of every day that I'm not thinking about stopping the Wu Sisters, helping Po, or redeeming myself. Sometimes even at the same time as all that." What could have come across as rather disconcerting—as if he were an obsessed madman who intended to stalk her across the breadth of China—instead sounded surprisingly heartfelt, even romantic, thanks to the imploring look on his face and the fervent, earnest tone in his voice.

 

Obviously that wasn't the answer Tigress had expected to hear either. But after blinking rapidly and staring at him in open shock and, if Mantis read her right, a definite bit of flattered pleasure, she finally smirked and said, "Ah, but in how many of those little fantasies of yours was I wearing any clothes?"

 

Dead silence met this inquiry, and when Mantis flicked his gaze back over to Tai Lung, he was startled, amused, and a little worried—the snow leopard's cheeks were red, blushing or more likely colored by extreme arousal, his tongue seemed to be tied, and he thought he saw a little nervous sweat trickling down the snow leopard's chest. It was clear exactly what he was thinking; if he didn't come up with a way to throw Tigress off the scent and fast…

 

"Er…um…some? A few of them?" He looked and sounded sheepish. _Argh! Wrong answer, buddy!_

 

It happened so fast even the insect couldn't track it. One moment Tai Lung was leaning over the bed, where he'd been ever since appealing to the striped feline to accept and acknowledge his love; the next, he was lying on the floor, flat on his rump, clapping a paw to his cheek where Tigress had slapped him, as hard and unforgiving as possible. "You…of all the disgusting…"

 

"Well," Tai Lung rasped, "you _did_ ask…"

 

"Not another word!" The leader of the Five was shaking, though whether with rage or pent-up desire, he couldn't tell. "Just…just get out, now, before you make me climb out of this bed and smack you around with only three limbs."

 

Before the snow leopard could protest, Mantis suddenly leaped out from behind the silkscreen and scuttled to Tai Lung's side, grasping him by the paw and bodily dragging him across the room to the door; sometimes it paid to be much stronger than your size would suggest. "Okay, that's enough ginseng and jasmine for _you_ …c'mon, let's get you out of here before anything else happens. Tigress, ah, I'll send Crane or Po in to check on you later, you try and rest now, got it?"

 

Ignoring the furious, death-dealing gaze she directed at him, the insect soon had the snow leopard out in the bunkhouse hallway and closed the door swiftly behind them. Wiping his brow with a huge sigh of relief, he skewered Tai Lung with his own beady eyes. "All right, what was that all about? What were you thinking? _Were_ you even thinking? I thought you were supposed to be a smart guy. I thought you wanted to keep all your body parts attached and accounted for."

 

Tai Lung seemed to be tuning him out, an absolutely besotted, wistful expression on his face as he gazed at the door to Tigress's room. "Damn. I _almost_ had her."

 

Mantis would have grabbed him by the lapels and shaken him, if he were wearing a shirt at the moment. Instead he settled for grasping the feline's jutting jaw in his pincers and forcibly jerking his head about until he could stare into those golden eyes. "What you almost had was one foot in your own grave, buddy. You weren't even in the same province with her."

 

Surprisingly, the snow leopard didn't seem upset that someone else had seen him so ignominiously laid low, or discovered his secret 'weakness' in loving Tigress. He only sighed mournfully and sat up, placing his face in both paws as his elbows rested on his knees. "Damnit, you're right. What am I going to do? What I said was true, she's almost all I ever think about. I know I shouldn't. She's never going to see me that way, and she's dangerous. With the way Shifu's likely to react if he finds out, she's definitely off-limits. And I really should be focusing on more important things right now. But I can't. Am I going mad—again?"

 

The insect eyed him closely—he didn't even seem to be realizing what he was saying, let alone whom he was speaking to. This couldn't be a front for Tigress's benefit; and in the room, he hadn't even known anyone else was watching. He really felt this way. _I don't believe it. Who'd have thought? I guess when the high and mighty Tai Lung falls for someone, he does it hard and fast._

 

Resting his pincers on the feline's shoulder, he tried to make his voice as concerned and caring as possible. "I know what you're talking about. It's a terrible affliction that can strike anyone without any warning, it's deadly accurate, it spares no one in the end, and I'm afraid there's no cure. Yeah, you've got it bad, Tai Lung." He paused, considering…and then, as memories of an inn and a certain Truth or Dare game came back to him, he smiled slowly. "But if you can't beat it, you might as well give into it. And I know just the person to help you out with that…"

                                                                       

* * *

 

Since the idea was to plot and scheme—er, give Tai Lung the proper romantic advice—without Tigress being able to overhear it, Mantis had known he had to take the snow leopard somewhere other than the bunkhouse. The only one who could truly help the ex-convict had her room right next to the striped feline's, but even if she'd been on the far side of the dormitory, the insect had the feeling Tigress's sharp hearing would pick up their conversation anyway. Especially if matters became as…disputed as he expected. So another locale had to be chosen.

 

The arena was too public. The training hall was right out, since, aside from being exactly the wrong atmosphere for such a talk, there was a fairly good chance Shifu could walk in on them at any moment. The same held true for the kitchen, since the master of the Jade Palace had become much more sociable since Tai Lung's defeat (and Po's complete overhaul of both the palace's stores and its regular menu). Which really only left one place the red panda was sure not to go anytime soon, seeing as his hygienic practices weren't anywhere near as habitual as those of the females.

 

Po might well show up there (Shifu's cracks about his body odor still stung, this long after the fact, making the Dragon Warrior much more conscientious about such things), but from his reaction to the kiss in Yunxian, and other comments he'd apparently made to Tai Lung, Mantis suspected the panda wouldn't mind at all keeping knowledge of this meeting a secret from Shifu or Tigress. With how much he hero-worshiped the snow leopard and the leader of the Five, the prospect of them hooking up would probably send him into orbit, if he didn't know about it already—the spotted feline, at least, hadn't exactly been subtle in his feelings.

 

All of this being the case, it hadn't taken much persuasion to get Tai Lung to meet here…at the bathhouse…with the one person who knew more about romance in general, and Tigress in particular, than anyone else Mantis knew. And from her naughty little dare at the inn, he believed she had already been on a personal mission to fan the flames of desire between the felines for some time now.

 

Viper, for her part, didn't know what to think at first when the insect insisted she get out of bed to go and meet him for a dip in the bathtub; with a pervert like him, you never could tell what horrible naughtiness he might have planned, and after what had happened to Tigress she was in no mood to play such raunchy games with him. She was even more startled…and privately rather aroused…when she discovered that the whole thing had been a lure to get her alone with none other than Tai Lung.

 

Needless to say, being in close proximity to such a prime specimen of masculinity was exciting enough, but when said snow leopard was completely unclad save for a fluffy white towel wrapped around his waist, it was all the serpent could do not to take peeks when she thought he wasn't looking. That glimpse she'd caught before hadn't been _nearly_ revealing enough!

 

Still, it didn't take her long to recover her poise (and her sense of propriety) when she learned the reason for this mysterious summons to the bathhouse. The future happiness of her best friend and a lonely man who only wanted to have someone to love was on the line here, and drastic measures would have to be taken if the budding romance she'd been witness to for the past two weeks was to blossom into something lasting and true rather than withering on the vine. _And I've been reading too much flowery prose in my novels lately…_

 

Nodding decisively, she quickly sent Mantis scuttling back to the dormitory, both to throw anyone off the scent who might come investigating and because she simply didn't want him around when she started dispensing her kernels of wisdom; in her experience, the insect didn't have a romantic bone in his, er, exoskeleton, and the last thing she wanted was his naughty jokes and caustic wit interfering when she was trying to give Tai Lung a meaningful, heartfelt lesson. Then she turned back to the interior of the bathhouse, which to further lessen suspicions she'd made sure to have well-stocked with soap, warming stones for the sauna, and plenty of wood for the fire thoughtfully provided by Shen Zhuang.

 

She could feel the snow leopard's eyes on the back of her head as she pumped water for the tub with her tail tip, filling one bucket after another. And although he wordlessly obeyed her commands to fill the limestone basin and pile the logs underneath it to heat the water, she knew he must be bursting with questions—and, if she knew him, a certain world-weary disparagement of such womanly pursuits. So once there was enough water to suit her, and the fire was crackling merrily underneath to heat the cold stone and its contents, she slithered over to the sauna where Tai Lung sat (the benches properly carved of cedar, of course, to ward away evil—something they all could use about now) and dumped the last of her bucket onto the heated stones, sending up a thick cloud of steam to fill the small building. And, incidentally, conceal them from prying eyes if anyone happened to peer in the door or a window.

 

"There, that should make sure we aren't disturbed for a good long while," Viper observed as she crawled up onto the bench across from him. "Now, I understand you're having…female troubles?" She smirked knowingly.

 

Panting in the nearly scalding cloud of steam, his thick fur becoming damp with sweat in seconds (and incidentally, plastering it down to further delineate the amazing musculature he'd built and developed during all those years of arduous training at the Jade Palace), Tai Lung shot her a look that was at once resentful and intensely embarrassed. "You could say that…in a manner of speaking…um, yes. I'm, er, completely out of my depth here. Help?" He rubbed at the back of his neck absently.

_He's so awkward,_ Viper thought affectionately. _Like an overgrown cub. And maybe that's what he is. Did he ever really have a cubhood here?_ Under Shifu, she really wasn't sure, and highly doubted it. He certainly had been forced to grow up and mature far too fast—partly by his own choice, granted—and aside from whatever he'd abandoned of his innocence in his quest for the Dragon Scroll, he'd obviously never had a reason, or an inclination, to pursue the opposite sex—or even spend much time with them. They must seem like a completely different species to him!

 

Of course, some of her sympathy and amusement faded, however, when she learned exactly what was the impetus for this meeting. Because as soon as she learned what answer the snow leopard had given Tigress when she asked how he thought of her, Viper would have smacked her forehead if she had hands. _Damn! The **one** time he had to be honest!_

 

"Tai Lung," she replied at last, primly, when she could find her voice, "here's my first piece of advice: when a woman asks you if you think about her naked, you say… _no_." She paused, frowning. "Except when she wants to know she's attractive, of course. But otherwise, no."

 

"Well that makes perfect sense, certainly takes a load off my mind," the snow leopard growled sarcastically. "Sounds to me like I'm damned no matter what I say."

_You're not too far off there_ , Viper thought wearily. But all she said aloud was, "Not quite. A lot of what I say may seem contradictory, but I promise that by the end of this—"

 

"I'll completely understand women?" Tai Lung blurted out hopefully, in wild desperation.

 

"I don't think that's possible," she said as delicately as she could. "I don't even understand myself sometimes, let alone Tigress. No, what I do promise is you'll at least have a better idea what makes her tick, what she likes, and most importantly, how you can get to know her while showing her the best sides of yourself."

 

Tai Lung looked dubious. "What can you possibly tell me that would accomplish all that?"

 

Viper smiled, a trifle smugly, but she made sure to inject genuine respect and sincerity into her voice. "It's simple, really: whatever you do, whatever you say, make it come from the heart."

 

For a few moments he stared at her blankly; then he sighed and let his shoulders slump. "I already tried that; it didn't work."

 

She frowned, a bit puzzled. "Well, what did you say, exactly?"

 

"That one day, she _would_ be mine."

 

Biting back a long, anguished groan, the serpent closed her eyes briefly. She didn't know what was worse; that he'd said such a thing to Tigress, or that, when she looked at him again, she could tell from his attentive and slightly quizzical expression that he really didn't understand what he'd said was wrong, and why. "…Let's try a different approach, shall we?" she suggested.

 

"I know all you've ever known is training, fighting, and studying, but there's something you need to realize about women, especially Tigress: this isn't a kung fu tournament, you aren't in a competition to outdo or batter an opponent senseless, and her heart isn't a prize you win. It's a gift, one you earn through honor, respect, and learning what pleases her best so you can give it to her."

 

She narrowed her eyes and couldn't keep the flat tone out of her voice. "And treating Tigress like an object is definitely out. Believe me, _no_ woman wants to contemplate incipient thinghood, her least of all."

 

His golden gaze faltering, the spotted feline slowly lowered his eyes to his paws, which began to wring and twiddle nervously. "I…I know. I know that now. This is just…very hard for me. It doesn't feel…natural."

 

She didn't know if he meant caring for the welfare of someone besides himself, or accepting a woman as his equal and worthy of consideration, but either way it was a highly unattractive mindset that needed to be stamped out immediately. "That's Shifu talking," she said firmly, though not completely unkindly. "He is a good man, a better teacher, and I do love him dearly, but I'm afraid he's even more clueless than you are when it comes to dealing with women." Viper reflected that if the red panda had been a bachelor all his days, which she had often surmised but could never prove, this would only make sense. "But just because you've learned one way of thinking, doesn't mean you can't unlearn it, and be taught a better one. Now tell me: do you love her?"

 

Tai Lung took a long time to answer; when he did, it was in a stiff, even painful tone, and he wouldn't meet her gaze. "I…don't know. I think I do. But I've never felt this way about anyone before, so I can't very well be sure, now can I? Tigress certainly thinks I don't, that it was too quick and I don't know her well enough. She's probably right. But…maybe that can change. Maybe I have something to start with, something I can build on."

 

Viper blinked. It was a surprisingly mature, carefully considered, and well thought-out answer. And it held a lot of promise indeed. "Well, we'll never know if we don't try, will we?" she finally replied brightly. "But there's another thing to consider that's just as important: why should she love you? What are you going to offer her, Tai Lung?"

 

Once again the snow leopard looked blank, as if he had never thought that far ahead before; if she didn't understand that he really was so hopelessly new at this, and that such a mistake was made out of real ignorance and not typical macho arrogance, she would have given up in despair, or else smacked him hard with her tail. And she was tempted to do that anyway by what he did next: his expression clearing into one of confidence, pride, and a certain swaggering cockiness, he stood from the cedar bench and posed in front of the nearest mirror, showing off for her (and, she very much feared, himself) by flexing and tensing every muscle in his torso. "What's not to love? I'll be offering her myself, of course."

 

The serpent stared at him, aghast…even as part of her was stunned speechless by this masculine display and privately bemoaned: _Damnit, **why** couldn't his towel have fallen off too?_

 

Forcing herself to snap out of her dazed, slightly drooling reverie, Viper brought her tail down hard on the bench, then swept it outward to dump the contents of the bucket beside her onto the heating stones. The combination of the sharp report and the sudden, enormous cloud of steam billowing up startled Tai Lung out of his pose, and he was soon sitting down again—coughing, choking, and looking appropriately repentant.

 

"Do I even need to tell you how wrong that was on so many levels?" Viper retorted…even as she hoped he would mistake the arousal in her rosy cheeks for a flush of anger.

 

Tai Lung chuckled weakly and rubbed at the back of his neck again. "Eh…no, I think I read that one loud and clear. Sorry…just thought I'd have a bit of fun with you, no harm done, right?" Even as she was still regarding him suspiciously, however, he continued in a mollified and more pensive tone. "Seriously…I haven't a damned clue why she should love me. Or why anyone should, really. But…I've been trying to change. I've been doing it for her, you know. I want to be someone who's worthy of her." He sighed. "I want to be someone who's worthy of myself."

 

The serpent softened her look to one of forgiveness and gentleness. For a moment there, she'd been worried; while it was honorable and a beautiful thing to wish to change for someone else's benefit, if that was the only reason it wouldn't bode well at all. It would suggest his heart wasn't truly in his redemption, that as with the Dragon Scroll, this was all about him simply doing whatever it took to get what he wanted. She sensed it might have been like that, in the beginning, but something had changed, thank goodness. If it hadn't, then it was entirely possible he would go back to his bad old ways as soon as he knew, deep in his soul, that Tigress would always reject him.

 

Instead…now she knew that Tai Lung truly did want to be a better person, and that even if it had started as simply an attempt to claim the leader of the Five for his own, now…he would change for Tigress simply because it was the right thing to do. He would change for himself because, even if he couldn't have her, he didn't want to be selfish anymore.

 

Even as Viper was still marveling at this revelation, the snow leopard was speaking again, and the look he gave her was both hopeful and pleading. "I guess, in the end, she should love me because of what I can give her, like you said. But I'm no hero, she sure as hell doesn't need me to protect her—even though I want to more than I ever have anyone in my life!—and I don't know what she needs or wants. If I did, I'd give it to her in a heartbeat."

 

She smiled encouragingly at him. "Then you should tell her that. Or rather, show her. Tigress isn't the sort of woman who's impressed by fancy words and pretty speeches. It's actions and deeds that earn her respect. You need to _do_ things for her, _be_ what she needs."

 

Tai Lung nodded decisively. "All right. Fine. I can do that." He paused, and then looked even more lost than ever. "Could you…d'you have anything in mind for that? Any ideas at all for what I can do for her?"

 

Grinning slowly, slyly, the serpent nodded. "As a matter of fact, I do."

                                                                       

* * *

 

With a warm, dry towel slung over one shoulder (peach, _not_ pink), and her own set of brush and soap—because the type normally favored at the Jade Palace was far too abrasive for her skin, she'd discovered, and tended to leave large clumps of beige fur all over the place—Mei Ling strolled along the cobbled pathway that crossed the back gardens toward the bathhouse. Like most cats, she was rather fastidious about her cleansing habits, bathing as often as her finances and status could afford it, so that she usually washed at least every other day. Even she had to admit that this day she hardly needed such an indulgence, but unfortunately she had nothing else to do at the moment.

 

Tigress was receiving a visit from Master Shifu, one she thought it better not to interrupt. It hadn't taken her long at all to learn the relationship between the red panda and the striped feline was often strained at best, so the more private time they had the better as far as she was concerned—and with as volatile as their tempers tended to be, they likely wouldn't wish her presence in any case.

 

Po was training with Crane today, and while normally she'd wish to be on hand, whether to provide pointers or act as a personal cheering section for the Dragon Warrior—the sweet, rather bumbling bear seemed the type to need a great deal of gushing validation—the mountain cat had the feeling that the panda would be so awed by her talents (and her beauty, which to her embarrassment left him stuttering and smiling dazedly more often than not) that he wouldn't even pay attention to his lessons.

_And he's not the only one. I'd rather not see Crane fly right into one of those swinging clubs or fall headfirst into that jade tortoise shell just because he can't stop staring at me_. She smirked and blushed.

 

Mantis didn't really have the sort of personality that agreed with her temperament (though she did enjoy his jokes more than most women she knew would), and something seemed…off about Master Monkey; she couldn't put her finger on what it was, but every time he spoke, and especially if she happened to meet his gaze, Mei Ling felt an inexplicable shiver run through her. The fact he seemed far too overprotective of Tigress and far too harsh with Tai Lung didn't help either, but…it was silly, even superstitious, yet she'd made it a point never to be alone with the primate or even turn her back on him for long.

 

And since she was fairly certain her half-sisters would lie low for some time, until they were certain vigilance had grown lax at the palace and with a collective sigh of relief, the kung fu masters would erroneously believe they had fled, all that was left for the mountain cat at the moment was to spend a few relaxing hours in the richly scented waters and scalding steam of the bathhouse, then seek out Viper for a shopping trip to the village.

 

She knew, thanks to Tigress's confession, that the Wu Sisters now knew of her presence; but nothing could be done about that. _They would have found out sooner or later anyway. It's too much to hope for that knowing sooner might make them think twice about attacking again…but whatever happens, when they strike again, I'll be ready for them._

 

When she got to the bathhouse, however, she discovered it was already occupied. Not that this mattered to her; thanks to her days at Li Dai, she was well accustomed to having to share accommodations and have next to no privacy, and in fact communal bathing was growing in popularity in the cities, and had always been something of a necessity among the poorer people (when they could bathe at all). And she expected the Furious Five, being elite warriors with facilities and amenities that in some instances rivaled those of the Emperor himself, were similarly used to sharing.

 

What surprised her, however, and made her hesitate on the stoop outside the wooden structure, was just whose voices she heard coming from within: Tai Lung's and Viper's.

 

Mei Ling was loathe to admit it, but one of her few vices was, unfortunately, an insatiable curiosity. Some might seek to compare this with the prying and intrusive nature of the Wu Sisters; those who dared to do so to her face had usually regretted it. The simple fact was, though, she knew of no better way to educate herself, discover hidden adversaries, or keep well informed of events and people, than by answering this inquisitive urge within her.

 

And she knew of at least one instance when it had been incredibly crucial: if she had not satisfied her desire to know what was causing the strange noises coming from the Li Dai courtyards in the middle of the night, she would never have witnessed Crane's incredible feats of agility, poise, and evasion; then she would never have encouraged him so strongly to apply for Master Hu's training class, he would not have become such a renowned kung fu master—and many people whose lives had been saved or bettered by Crane's timely assistance would have had very different experiences.

 

It was entirely possible, with no exaggeration, that her curiosity that night might well have changed a great deal of recent history in China. So as long as she was careful, cunning, and discreet, she could seek answers without harm to herself that might well turn out to be useful.

 

Besides, it genuinely puzzled her why the snow leopard and serpent would be alone together in a bathhouse. She knew, of course, that Viper was one of the few firm friends the ex-convict seemed to have at the Jade Palace, aside from Po. But she'd yet to see them spending time together outside the kwoon, and considering that the sort of cosmetic activities Viper would most likely be indulging in would hold absolutely no interest for Tai Lung…

 

Mei Ling snickered behind her paw. _What **is** that conniving reptile up to? Giving him a massage? Treating him to grooming tips? Or could she actually be…?_

 

Her thoughts broke off as she came up beside and slightly below the nearest window, pausing to cock a large black ear as well as peer inside. What she heard, and what she saw, utterly astonished her.

 

Not the nearly-nude, towel-clad form of Tai Lung, though that _was_ quite the delectable sight—she'd already had a fairly clear notion of his well-built, powerfully muscled frame even through his clothing, and that he was certainly well endowed as well—but that the snow leopard was on his knees, seemingly pleading with Viper in some desperate appeal. And the serpent was surprisingly unyielding and firm in her expression, as if she sat, or coiled, in judgment.

 

"I don't know what I was thinking," the spotted feline was saying bitterly. "This is never going to work, I am _not_ going to get this—it's a little too complicated for me."

 

"You should have thought of that before you started," the snake replied tartly. "And of course it won't work, if you keep telling yourself that. But you can't give up now, and besides, there isn't any other way. You have to do this, just the way I told you."

 

Tai Lung narrowed his golden eyes at her. "I _also_ don't take well to being given orders," he snapped.

 

"Too bad." Viper flipped her tail tip dismissively. "Up until now, you've been the one deciding how to go about this, and we've all seen how well _that_ went. So I happen to think doing what someone else tells you to do might be a refreshing change." She paused, and then her face and voice both softened.

 

"Tai Lung…all I'm saying is, I know how hard this is going to be for you. But you've done things before that were fiendishly difficult—you practically killed yourself to master the thousand scrolls before you were eighteen, and to become the Dragon Warrior. You would have done anything to get Shifu to tell you he loved you and was proud of you—and I've seen the way you look at him, you still would. What's a little humbling yourself and adjusting that attitude of yours compared to that?"

 

Mei Ling blinked to herself, one small paw lifted uncertainly to her muzzle as she gazed at the snow leopard's face—at how he seemed stricken at being caught so vulnerable and emotional, but the love and loyalty he felt for the master of the Jade Palace were just as undeniable.

 

For a few moments her own thoughts drifted as she contemplated her own father, Wu Xuan—even now, over fifteen years after his murder, it still pained her to think of him…yet it also filled her with warmth and peace. There were so many things she never got to tell him, so much they'd never gotten to do together—but at least, before he died, he'd gotten to see her graduate from Li Dai…and told her exactly how proud of her he was. The tears she'd shed that day, the tight embrace they'd shared as neither wanted to let the other go, the twin mingled purrs both had produced…yes, she knew exactly how Tai Lung felt, she knew why familial love and devotion were so important to him…

 

But the serpent was speaking again. Luckily, as she snapped her attention back to the conversation, the mountain cat discovered Viper had kindly given Tai Lung time to deal with his own baggage before continuing, so that she hadn't missed a thing. "So tell me this: you've done something everyone thought was impossible once. Can you do it again? And more importantly, is it worth it to you? Is _she_ worth it to you?"

 

Even as Mei Ling wondered whom she was talking about, the snow leopard looked up with a firm, unwavering determination on his blocky features. With clenched fists, he nodded without hesitation. "More than. She's worth _everything_ to me!" _Damn. Whoever he's talking about, I'd love to be in her shoes. I've **never** heard a man so adamant about a woman he loves!_

 

Viper smiled and nodded in turn. "All right, then you know what you have to do."

 

Tai Lung sighed. "Yes. I have to put her needs before my own…listen to her, really _listen_ to her, to find out what those are…respect her, and show it…" He paused, looking as he if were sucking on something sour, and then finally muttered, "And treat her like the queen who rules my heart. Without making her feel like a helpless damsel."

 

The tattooed reptile chuckled. "That's right. And be sincere, without condescension; impress her, without showing off; charm her, without laying it on far too thickly; and be there for her, without smothering or overwhelming her."

 

"Oh is that all?" The spotted feline snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he settled back on his haunches. "Why don't you ask me to hold back the floodwaters of the Huang He all by myself then, while you're at it?"

 

Viper laughed, but she didn't dismiss the possibility, either. "Very funny, Tai Lung, but let's get on with this, okay?"

 

"Who's laughing? I was being serious."

 

The serpent swatted him with her tail. "Anyway, let's see if you can put into practice some of the things I've taught you. Let's role-play." And so saying, she reached down with her dexterous tail tip again, this time scooping up something which had been hidden beneath her bench. It proved to be, of all things, a mask which had been fashioned out of many twisted and woven ribbons. It also bore a startling resemblance to Master Tigress—at least, if she were enraged and had more features in common with a New Year's dragon puppet.

 

As Mei Ling gazed at this with the first glimmerings of understanding, Viper held the mask up in front of her face, striking her best imitation of a Tiger stance, and spoke. Although she couldn't disguise the innate sweetness and gentleness of her voice, it was certainly much more harsh, stern, and flat than usual. A fair imitation of the leader of the Furious Five. "So? There was something you wanted to say to me, Tai Lung?"

 

Flabbergasted, the snow leopard blinked briefly before finally finding his voice. "Why, yes, as a matter of fact there was. It would give me great pleasure, Master Tigress, if you would honor me with a dance."

 

'Tigress' snorted. "I don't dance. Not unless you enjoy having your feet trodden on every other beat."

 

"Er, um…" Tai Lung floundered a bit, then thrust his empty paws out at Viper. "Here, I brought you something. It's sweet and delicious, everyone in the village has been raving about them."

 

"I don't eat sugar. Master Shifu says it rots teeth."

 

"Oh, _c'mon_ , woman, live a little!" Viper cleared her throat meaningfully, and he hastily backpedaled. "I mean, just this once wouldn't do any harm, would it?"

 

"I…suppose not." Viper mimed taking a piece of candy from the proffered box, then paused, narrowed her eyes through the slits in the Tigress mask. "You didn't make this, did you? Because I saw what you put in the panda's food…and I'd rather not be visiting the outhouse all night long, if it's all the same to you."

 

The snow leopard grumbled audibly. "If you must know, no. Po helped me make them."

 

Viper's voice turned coy, yet dismissive. "Well that's all right then." After supposedly eating the candy, she let out a soft murmur of delight.

 

"They're good, aren't they?" Tai Lung burst out, apparently unable to contain himself. "Didn't I tell you? They're just like you, Master Tigress…hard on the outside, gooey on the inside—I mean, strong but with a good heart!"

 

The serpent's surprisingly sobering hiss, which stood in for the striped feline's growl, faded out as she shook her head. "Nice save," she muttered—then paused, as she dropped her eyes to gaze pointedly at where Tai Lung was attempting to sneakily reach out a paw to grasp her nonexistent one. Her tone became colder than Mei had ever heard it. "Touch me with that paw, and I'll remove it."

 

Rearing back to curl his lip and post his fists on his hips, the snow leopard gazed at her warily. "You're _far_ too good at this, you know."

 

Viper pulled the mask aside to smirk at him. "And _you're_ changing the subject." Just like that, the knotted ribbons were back in place. "You were saying?"

 

Looking flustered, nervous, and confused, Tai Lung ran a paw distractedly through his fur and tried once more. "Master Tigress, I…I know you have no reason to believe this, but trust me when I say I do love you. I want to give you everything you could ever want, or to just stay by your side and worship you if that's what would please you. I want to fight at your side and protect you—not that you need it or anything, no of course not! But it's always a good idear to have back-up, and if the two of us teamed up, we could kick the arses of anyone clear across China!

 

"I won't ever second-guess you…well, I'll try not to…I'll just be at your back, night and day, whenever you need me. You wouldn't, of course, you can handle anything thrown at you and still train in the kwoon afterward without even breaking a sweat, but just in case you did, well there I'd be. Or keep me around as a training dummy, for laughs, for the adventure—I don't really care, as long as I can be there for you, with you, you know what I mean. D'you think, just perhaps, you might find it in your heart to…"

 

He trailed off as Viper lowered the mask. "No good?"

 

"You know Tigress would have fed you her fist by now. Don't you?"

 

Groaning, Tai Lung squeezed his eyes shut and shaded his brow with one paw. "Damnit…fine. Start again?"

 

As Viper patiently went over her advice for what was likely not just the second time, listing the things she thought would appeal to Tigress and those that wouldn't, how he should comport himself and what he should say, Mei Ling very slowly backed away from the window until she was far enough away to be concealed in the bushes—not just to keep from being seen, but also heard as she struggled violently not to burst out laughing.

 

When her paroxysms of hilarity had finally subsided, the mountain cat sat up and gazed toward the bathhouse…her mind working rapidly to take everything she'd heard and fit it together into a sensible whole. Though she didn't know it, and would likely be distressed if she did, the devious expression on her face rather reflected those often seen on the Wu Sisters. _So the guy who had everyone from Manchuria to Guangxi trembling in their boots has fallen in love…with Tigress. I never would have imagined…_

 

On one level, Mei Ling had to feel a twinge of disappointment—for while her own heart had already been given away, to one man and one alone, she couldn't deny that the snow leopard was a prime example of virile manhood, and that if the circumstances had been different she would not mind pursuing him herself. Or at least dallying long enough to find out if his prowess as a kung fu warrior also extended to the bedroom.

 

On the other paw, she rather found his preoccupation with Tigress to be romantic, genuinely affecting, and rather sweet. _And they already bicker like an old married couple, how cute! They have to be meant for each other, then. It explains so much!_

 

Her own need for a bath forgotten, the mountain cat rose from her hiding place and strolled thoughtfully back along the pathway toward the Jade Palace and her guest room in the bunkhouse. (With the place not having been filled to capacity with students in many decades, there was plenty of space to choose from, but she'd of course chosen a room not far from Crane's.) Before she passed inside, however, she looked back over her shoulder at the clouds of steam still billowing from the bathhouse, one paw to her chin.

 

"Hmmm. So the great Tai Lung needs all the help he can get when it comes to romance, huh? Well, not to worry. You don't know it yet, but you just got yourself another helper. And I know _just_ what to do to make that stripey-cat yours…"

                                                                       

* * *

 

It had been twenty years since he had seen the Valley of Peace. Twenty years since he had left the frigid, snow-covered wastes of Mongolia to return to the verdant forests, rushing rivers, and fertile soil of China. Twenty years since he had crossed the Thread of Hope, descended into the bowl of the perfect, pristine vale, and spent time among the gentle sheep, pigs, and geese of this most sheltered portion of Hubei.

 

In all that time, he had hardly ever set foot outside his mountain home—what had, in its own way, been as much his prison as it was Tai Lung's—not even to obtain food and supplies, as those had always been delivered to Chorh-Gom. He had not been able to smell and taste air which was fresh and alive instead of stale and dead, cultivate friendships beyond his men, or defend those he had sworn oaths to protect. He had not been free to serve the Emperor, travel, resume practicing and refining his kung fu, or do anything except spend his days endlessly acting as nothing but a glorified doorstop that kept the wicked snow leopard from ever again threatening the innocent.

 

Only now, when his post was superfluous, redundant, no longer necessary because both his prisoner and his castle were no longer his to command, was he free to depart Tavan Bogd and finally come home. And by a cruel irony, he still wasn't free even now. In fact it could almost be said that he wasn't the one to come here at all, only his body…while his soul, though along for the ride, could never truly come home and might remain imprisoned forever.

 

Vachir knew on some level, of course, that it was his own fault—that he had allowed that twisted soul-stealer entrance into his body by giving in to his anger, hatred, and thirst for vengeance…that in an even more disturbing yet fitting parallel, he had fallen victim to exactly the same fate as Tai Lung, the one he blamed for his plight. But because of that very fault-finding, the rhino refused to face or admit that he might very well have consigned himself to an endless torture far worse than anything he had ever devised for the snow leopard.

 

Many would call what had happened to him the ultimate in karmic retribution, but not the Mongolian. No, all that danced through his beleaguered and agonized mind (aside from the neverending darkness of Heian Chao that crouched constantly within it like a gigantic spider waiting patiently in the center of its web) was what he had lost and who had taken it from him.

 

 _He_ had been the greatest kung fu warrior in China, before the spotted feline stole that title from him (for a few years, anyway). While the Anvil of Heaven had not been his personal creation (that honor belonged to his ultimate grandfather, Flying Rhino), he had whipped it into shape and bred it hundreds of thousands strong, turning it into such a force to be reckoned with that the barbarian hordes thought twice of ever invading when they knew he and his men were on their way.

 

He had fought the Great Khan himself twice in battle, the second time a decisive defeat that would likely have cost the wolverine his life had his men not shown up in the nick of time to rescue him. It was his ingenuity and vigilance that had kept the borders secure, insured none crossed the Great Wall to ravage the empire. And after leaping to prevent the Mongol's scimitar from coming down to slice through the back of the Emperor's neck, he and Chen had stood back-to-back on the blood-soaked field, taking out what seemed like a third of the whole army by themselves with their deadly weapons and lightning-fast kung fu.

 

Yet now he was reduced to a pitiful shadow of his former self—literally. All his great deeds and achievements, his medals of valor and high honors granted by his ruler, everything he had fought, bled, and sweated for, had been stripped from him…forgotten…or otherwise discarded. No one remembered his glory days or what a perfectly devoted protector of China he had been…simply how he became a prison warden, and the fortress he'd built to stand against the Mongols was now forever associated with Tai Lung, famous only because such a place with its countless traps, weapons, and guards was needed to hold him.

 

The fact he had, in his pride, become far too overconfident in the inescapable Chorh-Gom and then been made to look an utter fool when Tai Lung did in fact break free completely overshadowed his many victories and campaigns, so that he was a laughingstock, humiliated, dismissed. And now he couldn't even retain his own sense of honor, his belief in his personal code of ethics, as the wicked shadow mage who had usurped his will and inhabited his body forced him again and again to leave such trappings of civilization behind in favor of one terrible, cruel atrocity after another…

 

There had been so many now, in such a short time, that their faces and voices all blurred together. Men and women, old and young, those who should be venerated as elders and those whose strong backs and unyielding vigor could raise crops for the empire or bear arms to protect it with equal facility. A few courtiers or merchants caught traveling without their entourage, wandering scholars and petty bureaucrats, but mostly simple peasant folk. The same stock he was from, in fact.

 

They had all died the same, with the same sheer terror and unrelenting agony in their eyes, so it seemed as if he was killing the same person over and over, an eternity of anguish and despair and suffering he would mete out to this hapless soul. He had watched them crumple and collapse, flail and struggle, beg for mercy and curse his name with their dying breath, yet it had made no difference to his seemingly unquenchable desire for slaughter.

 

And the entire time, as he sadistically, cruelly, even salaciously eviscerated and flayed farmers and fishwives, soldiers and traders, goats and pigs and horses…he had watched his own hands committing these foul deeds, wished he could weep—and screamed away endlessly behind his own face.

 

It was a living death, a true nightmare that made even those he'd once dreamt of Tai Lung seem like childish silliness in comparison. To be completely impotent, unable to prevent his limbs from dealing out such disturbing violence and death…listening to his own voice, changed to a more smooth and seductive timbre, as it lured unsuspecting folk in to become trapped beneath his knife and razor…smelling the stench of the grave and carnage as his body became soaked in blood and offal… Yes, it was horribly demeaning and condemning, it made him sick to his stomach even as his body seemed somehow to respond against his will, becoming ever more aroused with each killing.

 

And each life slain by his hand only saturated him further in corrupted _chi,_ sheathed him further in inky shadows and a shroud of death…gave Heian Chao even greater power to restrain him, compel him—make him a murderous, rampaging specter ten times worse than Tai Lung ever was. The countless ways the cloaked villain had of killing and torturing—skinning alive, roasting upon crackling pyres, cutting out the heart as it still beat, skewering upon lances and halberds there to slowly bleed out their lives—did not surprise him. But they did horrify him, even as they caused the rhino to fall more under his thrall…

 

The children were the worst, of course, and upset him the most of all—yet they also seemed to be the ones from which Heian Chao derived the greatest unholy pleasure and also the greatest power. As each lost their lives, and yet another taunting message was written in their blood by Vachir's own jerkily manipulated hand, he felt another pillar of his own morality fall, another layer of his honor peeled away, another heroic deed of his shattered and defamed.

 

He knew he was being tainted by this, even though he was not the one truly performing these heinous acts. He knew with each mile and day that passed, he was also traveling farther from goodness and nobility, that he could no longer claim he was a moral man, that he could never be forgiven and would soon be as hated, feared, and rejected as Tai Lung. But there was nothing he could do to stop it. He couldn't even take his own life to end it all before it was too late.

 

He wasn't ashamed to admit that the few moments each night when the silky yet iron-hard voice retreated within his mind, enough to let him have some semblance of consciousness and will but not enough to fight free or even act in any way at all, he often sobbed into his hands.

 

And now he had been brought at last into the Valley of Peace itself, where his fall from grace would be complete.

 

He wandered the edges of the verdant paradise, the farthest boundaries of the village, of civilization—a place to which he sensed he would always be consigned for the rest of his days. Watching, listening, hovering unseen in shadow and in concealment, observing the lives of the peaceful farmers with strangely divergent feelings—sometimes envious of their contentment and happiness, sometimes contemptuous of their petty, worthless lives; sometimes longing to join them, to appeal to them, and other times wishing only to destroy them, to ruin their entire existence. The one thing he could never do, it seemed, was speak to them; unless his master willed it, he was as mute as if his tongue had been ripped out at the root.

 

And to think, when he first gave himself to Heian Chao, he had expected to have some ability to fight back…that he would be able to resist the mage, even grasp hold of his powers and use them to his own ends. _What a damned fool I am!_

 

In the meantime, he could only watch helplessly from behind his own eyes as the vile creature made him creep forward through underbrush, thickly cloaked forest, and shadowed vines toward some sort of structure visible through the trees—a house, nondescript and quite unremarkable, the typical whitewashed stone and slate tiles of a peasant home. Oddly, despite being this far out in the hinterlands of the Valley, there were no fields of crops in sight—instead of a farm, it seemed to be only a dwelling. Judging by the large amounts of timbers, undressed stone, barrows of marble, and piles of bricks lying about, however, a builder of some sort must live there.

 

Even now, Vachir was still not certain how and why his tormentor chose his victims—he seemed to have some sixth sense as to who would be alone and vulnerable, where and when was the right time to strike, what sort of people would be susceptible to his dark mysticism, but beyond that there seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the attacks he himself was driven to perform. All he could guess was that Heian Chao somehow could detect, through his use of _chi_ , which souls were the ones to target, for reasons unknown and unknowable.

 

As the rhino drew near the back side of the house, however, and heard voices rising from within, he had to admit that this time, at least, there seemed to be a legitimate and plausible reason to choose this place to put in an appearance. Because from what he could hear, at least one person living here had a deep-seated hatred, distrust, and contempt for Tai Lung…and all of these emotions were ones he knew from experience left a person completely without defenses against Chao's depravity…

 

The male in question, whose voice was easily as deep, penetrating, and gruff as Vachir's own, was speaking first. " _Damn_ it, Hai! If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times—my leg's healed, no thanks to that bastard Tai Lung, and I can walk just fine! So quit fussing over it already and help me get my pack together."

 

"Well, if you say so, dear," a meek voice answered which could only belong to the fellow's clearly put-upon wife. "I just don't want to see you overdo it. If your knee gives out again, you'll be laid up for another two weeks, probably more. And…we can't really afford that right now…"

 

From the furious and almost deafening trumpet-like blast that came from within the house, the builder could only be an elephant, though Vachir had yet to get close enough to the window to see within, let alone catch sight of the speaker. He didn't need to, though; the man's voice carried with such resonance and power that it made all the windows rattle and even brought leaves showering down from the cherry trees.

 

"I _know_ that! Why the hell d'you think I want to get back to work, woman? You think I like sittin' around on my duff, bein' a lazy, good-for-nothing lay about, with my family dependin' on me and no money to put food on the table?" The distinctive sound of knuckles being cracked echoed in the sudden quiet. "If I _ever_ see that smug, murdering snow leopard's face again, I'll…"

 

"Chang." The elephant sow's voice was still soft and gentle, and yet there seemed to be a determination and strength at the core of it. "I'm not going to get into it with you again over Tai Lung. But whether he's responsible for our troubles or not, don't you think you should do all you can to not see his face again? Ever since his defeat, the empire's been a much safer place. We…we don't have to live in the Valley of Peace anymore, if we don't want to. I'm sure there are other places we could go, places where you could find work much more easily…"

 

Unsurprisingly, the laborer sounded even more resentful and vicious than before, although it didn't seem to be directed at Hai. "Like hell there are! I've lived here all my life, just like my father did, and his father, for ten damn generations. I'm not about to get driven out of my home by that no-good killer, and that's that. We're stayin' right here, where I can raise our boy right, just the way he deserves."

 

"But what about what you heard at the tavern? The rumors?" His wife sounded frightened now, distinctly uneasy. "All those deaths…so many innocent people, so brutally torn apart. I don't understand how anyone sane and with a soul could do such a thing!" _Oh, you have no idea, girl. You have no idea…_

 

"And if the stories are right, whoever is behind it is headed this way. Shouldn't we get out now, while we have the chance?" She paused, then added, "Not to mention, what happened to the poor Dragon Warrior…"

 

Vachir perked up his ears at this unexpected and puzzling bit of news; while he quite obviously knew far more than he ever wished to know of the killings and their intimate details, whatever had happened to that panda—Po, was it?—was something Heian Chao hadn't seen fit to share with him. Was this some random bit of bandit mischief, or did his torturer have even more up his shadowy sleeves than he knew?

 

The builder was speaking again, however—dismissively, of course, even with a snort of vague amusement. "All the more reason to stay here, where the Jade Palace can protect us, don't you think, Hai? Isn't that what the Five and their master are for, why this valley's always been a haven, why kung fu got invented?" His voice dropped to a mutter. "I still bet the Dragon Warrior got what was comin' to him for trusting Tai Lung. And anyway…I don't care what the gossips are saying. I ain't scared of nothing…and you shouldn't be either, _băo băo_ …"

 

As the elephant's voice became unexpectedly tender and caring, and both of them lapsed into soft murmurs he could barely hear, Heian Chao turned his body away from the house. As usual, he could not read precisely what the monster was thinking, but he could read general impressions and feelings from him. He could tell the wizard distinctly enjoyed learning of yet another citizen of the Valley who despised Tai Lung, who could be easily swayed to turn on the snow leopard—presumably to leave the feline alone and abandoned, so he'd be more ready pickings for Chao.

 

At the same time, the prospect of this Chang actually obtaining revenge on Tai Lung, perhaps even killing him, would obviously not fit in with the villain's plans…if such a turn of events seemed likely, the rhino could tell Chao would dispose of the elephant without a second's thought. He wasn't sure how to feel about that—he neither wanted Chao to get his hands on Tai Lung, nor for the snow leopard to keep on living; he sympathized greatly with this Chang's plight, yet if his desire for revenge left him as open to manipulation and possession as Vachir had been…

 

Glancing away from the house toward the sunny front yard, longing for its light and warmth—two things his master had made quite clear he would never be feeling again as long as he had any say in the matter—the rhino paused, frowning inwardly as he heard an odd sound coming from the sky. Flapping? Wings? Feathers fluttering in the wind?

 

Abruptly, a loud, spluttering squawk and a sickening _thud_ as something hit the ground solidly made even Heian Chao turn and look—and as the golden-garbed, gray-feathered form sat up, checked his bill to make sure it hadn't been bent in the fall, and adjusted his hat atop his tiny head, Vachir gasped openly. Of all the people he could run into, especially ones who knew him and could give away that he was alive and in the Valley… _Zeng?_

 

The messenger goose heard his gasp, unfortunately, and turned to look about with that timid, flinching mannerism that seemed to be his typical way of handling stress and shock. And as soon as he spied the rhino in the shadows of the trees, he too gasped—and at once fluttered his wings excitedly as he moved in Vachir's direction. "C-commander Vachir? By the Jade Emperor, you're _alive_?"

_Guess you could say that_. Even if Chao hadn't been keeping all his muscles locked so that he remained frozen in place, the former commander of Chorh-Gom would have had no recourse but to stay—he couldn't exactly flee now that he'd already been spotted, and completely aside from the shamefully comedic image of him running from a goose, he had no reason to fear Zeng. In fact it should be the other way around…

 

His master still had control of his mouth, of course, but when he spoke he did so with the same style of speech and tone he'd quickly learned to be the rhino's. "Hah! 'Course I am! Did you really think a little explosion was enough to do _me_ in? I'm tough as iron and solid as a rock!" He pounded on his own chest to emphasize the point.

 

Zeng flapped to a stop in the backyard of the elephants' house, eyes bulging a little even as he shot Vachir a very strange, and indeed quite nervous, look. "Well, it wasn't really _that_ little, but…anyway, what are you doing here?"

 

"Could ask you the same question, small fry. You still runnin' errands and deliverin' messages for the stuffed toy?" While his mouth was moving of its own accord, the Mongolian glanced down and saw that indeed, the bird was carrying a tightly rolled scroll in a leather case strapped to his back. And judging by both the pure gold finial crowning the roller, and the readily identifiable seal holding it shut, it was a very important and critical document indeed—since Vachir recognized it immediately, now that he knew to look, as the personal sigils of Master Shifu…and Emperor Chen.

 

"Stuffed…toy…? Oh you mean Master Shifu!" The goose gave a jittering laugh. "Yeah, I'm afraid so. Got one right here, in fact. He asked me to carry this missive to the Emperor himself—I don't know if you've heard yet," and here he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "but there's some terrible criminal on the loose out there, killing and ripping people apart everywhere you look!"

 

"You don't say," Chao said thoughtfully, while inside his mind, Vachir didn't know whether to start cursing a blue streak or thank the gods that salvation—or at least the peace of the next world—might soon be his.

 

Oblivious to the commander's odd tone, Zeng nodded vigorously. "Oh yes! Everyone in China might be in danger, so I've been sent to apprise His Imperial Majesty of the situation, and formally request a garrison be sent to the Valley." He clasped his wing feathers self-importantly across his stomach, a slightly pompous look on his face.

 

"Although, I think I might be forgiven if I delayed that a bit by turning back. I mean, you survived! Everyone in the Valley's going to want to know, they'll all be so pleased! Well except Tai Lung, of course. Heh. But he's changed so much since that awful escape, you wouldn't even believe he's the same person! I'm sure with time even you two can patch things up…"

 

While the bird babbled and nattered on inanely, both Vachir and his unwelcome hitchhiker stiffened in place, fury and worry and confusion warring equally in each of them. Chao, of course, certainly did not want the Emperor's troops coming to the Valley to protect the hapless villagers, or Tai Lung and the Five—not only would that make it much more difficult for him to continue his disgusting killing spree, but surely this scroll also warned of the Wu Sisters (perhaps that was who happened to the Dragon Warrior), and would thus make it impossible for them to continue carrying out his will.

 

Vachir, for his part, did not want anyone to know he lived, or especially to see him reduced to what he was—and the idea that the snow leopard could be dwelling peacefully back at the Palace, accepted and trusted, while he was ignored, relegated to the dung heap…well, it only inflamed his wrath to even greater heights.

 

And both of them had other reasons to keep Zeng here—the wizard, he sensed, wished to use the goose as a much more direct messenger than his bloody notes had been, and as for Vachir himself…not only had Zeng witnessed his colossal and shameful failure to keep Tai Lung from escaping, it had been his feather that allowed it in the first place. (And to further twist the knife, as one of the few things Chao had shared with him—to deliberately taunt him, he was sure—he knew now that that feather had been guided on the air currents to the snow leopard's solitary pinnacle by the wizard's dark _chi_.)

 

No, Zeng could not be allowed to leave…and if Vachir had his way once Chao was through with the bird, he would never see the Valley again while alive.

 

Acting in concert for once, their minds and wills joined in the same course of action, the rhino and his master reached out with blinding speed, snatching hold of Zeng around his scrawny neck and jerking him off the ground until they were face to face. The messenger broke off his monologue abruptly, barely able to swallow past Vachir's horny, knobby hand. "Wh-what? What are you…I thought we'd…gllckk!…gotten past this…"

 

Reaching into a pouch he wore at his belt, Chao withdrew a length of rope and swiftly tied it around Zeng's bill, holding it shut so he could no longer shout and scream, giving away his presence to anyone in the house. "Sorry, birdbrain," he chuckled darkly. "But _you_ aren't goin' anywhere…"

 

"Hey, mister!" The voice behind him was so startling and unexpected, he almost dropped the bound goose (or would have, if his muscles were still his to command). "What're you doin' in our yard? You better have a good reason for being here, or else my Baba's not gonna be happy…"

 

Turning to look, he spied a little boy—around five or six, he thought—standing staring at him, fists posted comically on his hips and jaw set in a stubborn line. He was, of course, an elephant, although young enough and small enough he could still be easily overpowered by one with Vachir's size and strength…not to mention Chao's special abilities.

 

Inside, the rhino felt his heart sink and his stomach start to churn as he knew what he would soon be forced to do…silently, shouting but unheard within his mind, he begged the little boy to run, to realize this was a dangerous stranger who had to be fled at all costs, to not be as determined and strong-willed as his father Chang…

 

But of course, he stayed put as Chao strode over to loom above him—although he did swallow hard and look a little intimidated as he realized just how tall Vachir was…and the darkness which flooded his soul and filled every inch of his flesh made him seem to swell, to grow even larger and more menacing. "Whoa…you're almost as big as Baba is…uh…nevermind?" The little elephant started backing away.

 

Yet he'd only made it a few steps when the shadowy, horned silhouette stood above him again, backing him helplessly into a tree trunk. Looking rather desperate now, fear and tears brimming over in his upturned eyes (and making Vachir's heart lurch anew), he burst out, "What's with the bird? You…you aren't gonna… _eat_ him, are you?"

 

Vachir's nasty laugh sounded in the silent clearing, and as he bound Zeng's legs together as well and threw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the rhino could feel his free hand clutching a particularly wicked, jagged-edged knife behind his back. _No. No! Please, don't…don't make me do this again! I can't bear it…no more…you fucking bastard, **no**!_

 

"Of course not," Chao was speaking aloud, blithely ignoring his passenger, of course. "I was just…playin' a game with him." He paused, and then his voice became even harder, more sadistic and blatantly suggestive. "Do _you_ like playin' games…little boy…?" He took another step forward.

_Damn you, Chao! Damn you, Tai Lung!_ His rage turned to self-loathing as a sob tried to rise up in his broad chest and was stifled. _And damn me, too…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I managed to work in so many shout-outs, snide references, hints, and outright quotes it'd be rather embarrassing to list them all in great detail. I can tell you that _Wizard of Oz_ , _Ghostbusters_ , _Sister Act_ , _Labyrinth_ , Final Fantasy X, David Eddings, and the _Wraith Squadron_ books all made it in. The only exact quotes were Viper's reference to 'incipient thinghood' (Ah, dear Polgara!), Dona's line about removing hands, and the discussion of how much Tai thinks of Tigress (including naked), which is again from Kell and Tyria's talk. 
> 
> Other points of interest: I chose to make the Great Khan a wolverine both to differentiate from the wolf in Luna's "Memoirs" and because wolverines are actually native to Mongolia; Master Hu, mentioned in Mei Ling's thoughts, is indeed supposed to be the same bull we saw running the class in _Secrets of the Furious Five_ (and yes, he's the one the Wu Sisters killed); her father's name, Xuan, means "high" (or "chosen"); and "bao bao" is a Chinese term of endearment which means "darling". I also really couldn't resist expanding on Vachir's past (he grew on me and became more cool, even as I continued to torment him) or Chen's, so I hope you enjoy learning these tidbits.


	25. Calm Before the Storm

 

 

The next month and a half went by with agonizing slowness for everyone in the Jade Palace—most especially for Tigress and Tai Lung. The former, of course, had to withstand the restlessness, annoyance, and grueling agony that came from being confined to her quarters, to her bed, rather than being up at the crack of dawn training in the kwoon, helping out with Po's training—and staying on the lookout for the return of the Wu Sisters.

 

Having Mantis hover over her like a mother hen, fussing over every detail of her medicine and dressings, was just as frustrating—because when he wasn't glaring at her in that disconcerting, determined way that only a predatory insect could until she gave in and accepted his herbs and ministrations, he was telling naughty jokes and tall tales that made her laugh…which only served to aggravate her cracked ribs.

 

Viper was sweet, of course, although her tendency to bring some of her more lurid romance novels to read aloud made the striped feline both flush and glower—especially when the serpent followed this up with numerous not-so-subtle comments on Tai Lung's handsome physique and how well he would fit into some of her books…as a dashing, heroic warrior who had a dark past but was saved by the love of a good woman.

 

Mei Ling tried to cheer her up with status reports on how well Po was learning from the snow leopard, seeming oblivious to the fact that for all this made it less and less likely the panda would fare poorly against the assassins the next time they met, it also reminded Tigress both of her own enforced absence from the kwoon and her inability to monitor those proceedings. Not that she didn't trust Mei Ling, or any of the others, to do so in her stead; it was just something she wouldn't feel comfortable with unless she saw it with her own eyes.

 

Monkey, it seemed, had settled into a permanent sullen fury, rarely ever leaving his room or even bathing and grooming properly—and when he did come out, it was only to practice in the training hall. According to Crane, the moves he was using were far more brutal, nasty, and powerful than the ones the simian normally employed, to the point that after only one observational session Shifu had put his foot down, saying that Monkey was to refrain from sparring until he had meditated on the nature and meaning of kung fu, reminding himself what it was meant for, and what it was not.

 

The waterfowl himself, when he wasn't busy swooning over Mei Ling (she presumed), only sat with Tigress once a week. Never much of a conversationalist, he seemed to have become even more reticent of late, and while she was relieved at being freed of the onus of endless small talk, it wasn't much better lying in bed with both of them lost in an awkward silence.

 

And as for Shifu…the less said about his visits the better, since when they weren't as painful as Crane's or filled with the same lectures she could repeat by rote, they consisted of equally jarring attempts to try and reach out to her, to display some modicum of fatherly love and praise. She knew he meant well, and on some level appreciated it, but when the best the red panda could come up with was falling back on kung fu, referencing the grace and fluidity of her form and mentioning how he looked forward to seeing her in action again, it came across as more of the same old mentor's discipline. _Yes, nothing says 'I love you, Daughter' like waxing eloquent on how you look forward to seeing me trash the kwoon again so you can fill out more work orders._

 

The only bright spots in her recovery period, at least at first, were when Po sat with her…for whether telling her detailed stories of his slow but steady mastering of the scrolls—punctuated of course by gestures, kicks, wild gyrations on one foot, and gratuitous sound effects—reassuring her that as yet no one in the village had died or even been attacked by anyone, or bringing her homemade meals and a willing ear to listen to her rants, the panda always managed, somehow, to make her feel content and loved.

 

Tai Lung, on the other paw, experienced the same time period as confusing, infuriating, worrisome, and upsetting—but in the end, ultimately more rewarding than he could ever have expected. Because aside from continuing to train the Dragon Warrior and nursing Tigress back to health, he spent most of that month and a half slowly but surely implementing Viper's plan of action for kindling romance.

 

Sadly, whether because she didn't know Tigress as well as she thought, because most of her ideas of romance came from those detestable novels she read or tales of the elite women at the Imperial Court, or because the striped feline was simply that stubborn and contrary where Tai Lung was concerned, not everything he tried to woo her with worked. In fact some of it backfired spectacularly.

 

One of the first things he did, albeit through gritted teeth and while holding back constant groans and snarls, was to follow through on his promise during the Truth or Dare: to clean the bathhouse. He'd already planned to do so anyway (or at least that's what he'd told Viper; it had simply 'kept slipping his mind' what with everything going on), but the serpent had firmly pointed out that not only was doing something so menial and thankless certain to convince Tigress of his humility and desire to change, it simply proved he was a man of his word.

 

So he had girded himself and set himself to the task which would last him all month—not that it was that disgusting or even very difficult, unless Monkey, Po, or (heaven forbid) Shifu had just used it, but it was very time-consuming, backbreaking work. Yet for all the new calluses he developed on his palmpads, the aches in his wrists, knees, and shoulders as he scrubbed and brushed and soaped up the wooden floor, stone basins, and metal drains, and for all that this reminded him pointedly of some of the red panda's most demeaning and character-building exercises from his cubhood, he had to admit Viper's advice paid off. Because when Tigress learned of his new chores, her shock and disbelief had turned almost immediately to a look of respect and appreciation—quickly concealed, of course, but still…

 

Similarly, when Viper in turn decided that Tigress being removed from the kung fu circuit for the time being meant she could afford to be more openly feminine and genteel, Tai Lung had been quick to point out that wearing makeup would improve her complexion and help conceal her current state of ill health. As soon as he saw the vicious fury beginning to build in her golden ruby eyes, the snow leopard had quickly rephrased his compliment, making it very clear how absolutely beautiful and enchanting she looked wearing Viper's lotus headdress and adorned with the scented powders and softly tinted hues beneath her eyes and upon her lips.

 

And instead of making what he knew would be a terrible mistake by suggesting she should look like this all the time, instead of just when a dare forced her to do so, he commented that he was glad she only wore such luxuries rarely…because that made it all the more special and meaningful when she did. To that, she had no reply except for a very deep and genuine blush.

 

On the other paw, his first few attempts at gift-giving, both as a peace offering and to show her his thoughtfulness and affection, were unmitigated failures. At Viper's suggestion, Tai Lung made a special trip to the nearest flower stall in the village, picking up the largest, showiest blooms of hydrangea he could find—since, after all, it was not only given as a symbol of love but also one of gratitude…as in, thanking her for how her example inspired him to be a better man.

 

Unfortunately, it turned out the serpent had made one very critical error: for almost as soon as Tigress had buried her smiling muzzle in the gorgeous, pale blue petals, her eyes watered up and her nose began running thickly. Before he could remove the offending flowers from her grip, the allergic feline had started gasping, panting, and choking—and then, as she squeezed her bleary red eyes shut, she'd sneezed violently…which had the result of her fairly thick fur frizzing and poofing out almost as comically as his had a tendency to do.

 

Unable to help himself, the snow leopard had collapsed laughing on the floor—and needless to say, that hadn't gone over well with her at all. Viper had been apologizing to him, and he to Tigress, for days afterward.

 

Although not quite as catastrophic as that, his next offerings didn't go over much better. Despite some misgivings on Viper's part, Tai Lung went ahead and procured for Tigress a box of candy, the sort normally given only at New Year's—both of them had read that most women loved such food, even someone like Tigress had to enjoy a wicked indulgence once in a while, and the fact it came from the village and not his own cooking had to count as a point in his favor.

 

But while she had seemed to like the chocolate coins, candied ginger, and melon seeds, she'd also observed rather flatly that she much preferred fresh, juicy fruits to the dried ones found in the candy box, and overall she'd seemed to treat the gift as exactly what it was—a bribe, a means to beg her favor, nothing more. And when he had brought her what he thought was a rather lovely necklace of silver and jade to set off her eyes, the striped feline had only given him a disgusted look and told him she had no time or desire for such trinkets, and he'd do better to give it to Viper, or his new friend Mei Ling.

 

Luckily, not all of his time was given over to either being Tigress's doctor or suffering through the painful and sometimes humiliating process of trying to win her heart. Because, of course, it was absolutely critical that he give as much of his time as possible to working with Po on his kung fu skills. For completely aside from the fact that they all knew the Wu Sisters were still out there, with Xiu recovering from her own injuries and all of them biding their time until the right moment to swoop in again like murderous demons of the spirit world, there were several other developments that made Po's training imperative.

 

First was the fact that at last, just when Shifu had begun to believe the rampaging killer from Yunxian had passed them by and was heading further to the south and east, news had finally filtered in from the outlying farms and settlements of the Valley…reports of the same sorts of horrific, repugnant killings as the one Shing Fai had brought to the Five's attention.

 

As he had when patrolling with Tigress, Monkey had of course immediately seen fit to accuse Tai Lung again—claiming that the delay before the murders resumed had been to ease their suspicions, as well as because the snow leopard had been too busy with nursing Po back to health to slip unobserved out of the palace. When it was pointed out to the langur by a wry and disdainful Viper that none of the kung fu masters ever left Tai Lung alone long enough to allow for such activities, and that he was now similarly preoccupied with the injured Tigress, Monkey had been forced to back down...but he continued to watch the ex-convict resentfully nevertheless.

 

In any event, while the unknown madman had not, as yet, been seen by anyone who lived to later describe him (something which made a number of villagers suspicious of Tai Lung as well), nor had the sightings moved closer toward the Valley's center let alone the Jade Mountain itself, the discoveries of the grisly 'markers' and their vile, taunting messages had become ever fresher, riper, more bloody and mutilated. It was only a matter of time before he did indeed dare to perform such a murder right in the village square or somewhere equally audacious…and somehow, despite being so public and with all of them nearby to assist, the thought had lodged in many of the kung fu warriors' minds that even then, they still might not be able to prevail against this insane horror.

 

Almost as upsetting and worrisome as this, however, was something which had hit a little closer to home: the disappearance of Zeng, the messenger goose. Shifu had debated long and hard ever since returning to the Valley, and had eventually decided, after the arrival of the Wu Sisters and their violent attack on Tigress, that for all their skill and mastery, the Furious Five could not withstand such depraved, heartless, and persistent adversaries—not even with Tai Lung, Mei Ling, and Po to help them.

 

So he had composed a strongly worded but properly respectful letter to the Lord of Ten Thousand Years, letting the aged tiger know that the Valley of Peace was under siege from two equally insidious threats, and that he would appreciate a garrison of his best men from the palace to aid in the defense of the people. That letter had been dispatched with Zeng forthwith…but he had not, as yet, returned.

 

On the one paw, it would certainly take a great deal of consideration and pondering before Chen would agree to such a proactive move that could panic and frighten even more citizens of the empire, and even if he agreed, it would take so many men, with all their armor, weapons, and transportation, quite some time to march to the Valley. On the other paw, surely the Emperor would send Zeng back ahead of time to inform them of his decision and when they could expect help to arrive.

 

Not to mention, the goose had made it to Chorh-Gom and back in record time when warning of Tai Lung's possible escape and then the veritable fact of it, and while that had been when motivated by much more fear and distress than now, the distance to the Imperial City was also much shorter. So with every day that passed without any word, without a sign of the golden-clad bird's form winging down out of the heavens, almost everyone at the Jade Palace began to fret and pace anew.

 

Oddly enough, at least as far as Tigress, Mantis, and Monkey were concerned, the one who showed the most emotional response to Zeng's absence, aside from Shifu of course—was Tai Lung himself. Though none of them knew this, and he had no intention of ever revealing it to them, the snow leopard had a much more unique reason to be distressed. Of course knowing some terrible fate might have befallen him, and so the message was never delivered and no assistance from the capital would be appearing, was a sobering and dismal prospect.

 

But the fact of the matter was…Tai Lung _liked_ Zeng. He had never known him while growing up at the Jade Palace, of course—that had been before the goose's time—but he had known the messenger's father Zhou and they were practically cut from the same cloth. Besides, he owed his freedom, his life, perhaps even his sanity to that blessed feather sent down from on high like a gift of the gods.

 

If not for Zeng, he would still be imprisoned in that foul fortress, rotting away, lost and forgotten, unable to achieve his destiny—not the Dragon Scroll, but reclaiming his life again and discovering what hopeful and honorable path he might be able to tread in the years still allotted him. When he had sent the goose back to the Valley to warn of his coming, it had not merely been expediency that compelled him to do so, but gratitude.

 

When he had stroked the bird's head with such tenderness, a gesture which had surely filled Zeng with fear and loathing at its seemingly disturbing nature, it had not been intended as some twisted form of sadistic pleasure—he had really been grateful and relieved at what the messenger had done for him, although of course he'd been careful at the time not to give any indication. He'd had a reputation to live up to, after all.

 

Ever since returning to the Jade Palace, however, and especially since he'd accepted Shifu's offer, the snow leopard had made it a point to be kind to the goose whenever he saw him, to wish him a good morning, ask after his wife and family, or compliment him on what an assiduous and dedicated job he did day in and day out. Unsurprisingly, Zeng had remained deeply nervous and uncertain around him, and had especially seemed to take the inquiries about his loved ones as a vague threat to their well-being; but with time, Tai Lung was sure the goose would come around.

 

So to think something might have happened to Zeng now was rather upsetting on a personal level for the snow leopard. Adding in the fact that his vanishing now, with four killers on the loose and him bearing a message meant to bring in aid against them, could hardly be a coincidence, and Tai Lung had even more reason to be upset—and to redouble his efforts with Po.

 

For it was becoming more and more likely that the Emperor was beyond their reach, that by the time anyone else could be sent on foot (assuming they weren't dispatched by the enemy too) it would be too late for the Valley, and that they were on their own. Which meant, of course, the Jade Palace needed a fully functioning and knowledgeably trained Dragon Warrior as a champion to stand amongst its kung fu masters.

 

And as that month and a half slowly progressed, it looked like that was what they were going to get. Of course despite his ability to study and train at such a phenomenal rate, the panda still made mistakes, made a fool of himself, or otherwise stumbled and needed to approach his kung fu lessons from a different angle. Although Po had seemingly mastered the Leopard Claw his first night in the gardens, that didn't exactly make the rest of his time with Tai Lung a simple midnight stroll—for one thing, science was not exactly the panda's strong point, so that he had a great difficulty in memorizing the nerve points from Mantis's anatomy charts.

 

For another, the Dragon Warrior was also not precisely adept at holding and sustaining his gathered _chi_ within himself; while he could draw it together and employ it well enough, he still trembled and sweated far too much for the snow leopard's taste, when Tai Lung only wished him to become cool and calm under pressure—he barked quite a number of commands and orders to try and shore up that particular deficiency.

 

And finally, even when sparring with Po night after night, he discovered that the panda's aim and skill were not always as careful as either of them would like…more often than not, the spotted feline succeeded in dodging his strikes completely, while other times the bear slipped and missed his nerve point, sometimes by several significant inches.

 

Thankfully, this didn't occur when he was striking at the ex-convict's chest, and his nimble evasiveness allowed the improperly directed fingers to instead jab him harmlessly in muscles rather than joints. This did, however, have the unexpected side effect of tickling Tai Lung almost as much as his strikes had once done to Po…

 

While he was gradually achieving better talent and application with the Leopard Claw, though, Po was also learning a related type of strike which opened the way for him into Mei Ling's field of expertise: Eagle Claw. At first, of course, his large paws and pudgy fingers were not very skilled at the grips, grapples, and joint-locks that comprised Lian Quan, the Linking Fist…but at the same time, Po had learned to be much more dexterous than one might suppose by handling so many different utensils and dishes in the cramped, crowded kitchen of his father's noodle shop.

 

So with time, patience, and repetition, the mountain cat was able to walk the Dragon Warrior through those basic steps and into becoming a fairly limber, agile fighter—for once he understood how the pressure point strikes worked (thanks to Tai Lung's training), it was only natural for him to pick up on _qinna_ and so discover how to catch elbows, knees, wrists, and ankles to be twisted, paralyzed, or trapped by the solid bulk of his own limbs. Combining that with the usual long strikes and kicks, and Mei Ling was already proving her combat mastery by turning out a credible warrior.

 

In a beautiful, almost symmetrical, choreography, what the mountain cat was teaching Po in turn reflected back to aid the snow leopard in his follow-up lessons. For Tai Lung had decided the next order of business was to teach Po Dragon style (naturally), and one of its basic moves was the same as Mei Ling's, the Eagle Claw. While the snow leopard had every intention of teaching the Dragon Warrior many of his own key moves and stances he'd perfected in the course of his private study, a great deal of those required either amazing speed and agility or the ability to duck and crouch low to the ground.

 

In time, perhaps, Po could be fast enough, but between his low center of gravity, squat legs, and rather immense belly, there was no possible way he could learn to bend back and sweep downward in the way Tai Lung was so fond of—not in the time they had to train, anyway. Dragon kung fu was a much better prospect because it relied, at least in the early stages of study, on sheer strength and a stolid, deeply rooted stance—each strike and block, each stomp of a foot and twist of the waist, as hard and powerful and determined as possible.

 

Whatever else could be said about Po, the snow leopard knew he had an incredible amount of strength, and even muscle, buried beneath all that flab and fur, not to mention the heart for such tactics. It simply had to be developed and brought to the surface. Add in the fact that the panda seemed absolutely tailored for the Dragon's 'ride the wind' philosophy—in the sense that his stability, patience, and cunning had led him to instinctively provide no openings during their battle, instead waiting for Tai Lung to leave himself open before striking—and the choice was obvious.

 

If anyone was meant to follow, not lead, and thereby trick his opponent into overextending himself, it was Po. He wasn't certain if the panda could ever achieve the advanced level…but with luck and careful planning, he might not need to with the Wu Sisters.

 

As for any other styles of kung fu, Po pointed out with equal parts embarrassment and resignation that he was hardly fast enough to learn Viper style, or patient enough for Mantis. Monkey style, for hopefully obvious reasons, was out of the question for the foreseeable future—even if the simian weren't so out-of-sorts and, it seemed, constantly in a state of simmering fury, he simply didn't seem to be in much of a teaching mood.

 

Which really only left two styles for him to study—and they just happened to be those practiced by his favorite members of the Five, _and_ the ones he might just have an aptitude for. For the strength and determination Po was learning to develop through Dragon style would serve him just as well in learning Tiger style, and the speed and agility he was honing through Eagle Claw actually was sufficient enough for him to be taught Crane style.

 

The latter, of course, was something the avian kung fu master was only too happy to instruct Po in, as it would allow him to spend even more time in the kwoon around Mei Ling—who, with Tigress out of commission, was the only one on hand aside from Shifu who could lead the lessons in the strongest and most relentless form of kung fu. However, once Tigress had twisted Mantis's pincers to procure permission from him to leave her bed—on the condition she was carried everywhere she wanted to go and had soft, comfortable bedding and chairs to rest in once she was set down—the leader of the Five was also able to join these sessions, albeit as a sideline observer giving pointers and verbal explanations of the scrolls and their deeper meanings.

 

So, as the days passed in the training hall, not only did the rather comical cries of "Deflect! Deflect! Deflect!" echo to the beamed ceiling as Po swung and angled his black-furred arms about to block Crane's wing feathers, but the panda was soon putting into play the moves he had always loved the most—roundhouses, drop-kicks, mid-air leaps to strike right at the breastbone, and of course Tiger Fists.

 

At first, of course, the panda ended up in great pain when he tried to punch and kick the Wooden Crocodiles, or even simple stretching bars, without pulling the blows or coming at it from just the right angle—clutching a paw or a foot and staggering about, whimpering, he was heard to mutter something about the arena doors that no one quite understood.

 

However, once Mei Ling thoughtfully brought plates of sugar-coated almonds and buttered sweetbread cookies to use as an incentive, Po's performance improved dramatically. (From Tigress's sardonic references to Shifu, Tai Lung gathered this method of training was one the mountain cat had learned after speaking with the red panda; all the snow leopard could do, however, was place his face in his paw in despair and be grateful Mantis wasn't around to make jokes about 'kung food'.)

 

The end result was that, just as the passing days gradually but swiftly mended Tigress's cracked rib and twisted ankle, so that eventually she could join the physical training with Po, they also displayed an astonishing growth and, for lack of a better term, 'strength spurt' in the Dragon Warrior. Where once he had been unable to attack a Swinging Club without badly bruising or tearing his knuckles, now he was capable of cracking or even smashing the wood into splinters—not as spectacularly as Tai Lung or Tigress herself could do on a good day, but impressive nonetheless.

 

Where once it was laughably easy to jostle him out of his stance and land with an ignominious _thud_ on his plush rump, now he could plant his feet with an equally solid thump and remain as immovable as a stone wall. And while the bear would always possess that almost adorable layer of pudge and his enormous white belly, over time he definitely began to develop a rigid bulk of muscle beneath it—enough that the few times Tai Lung wasn't quick enough to duck one of Po's roundhouses, his jaw was actually bruised and his vision hazy for several minutes afterward.

 

Even Mei Ling and Tigress had to admit that he could truly pack a punch, as their aching shoulders and stomachs attested. Every bit of praise he was given made those green eyes light up in wonder and delight, and prompted the deepest and most respectful of bows—and they were all warranted, too.

 

But it wasn't only Po's physique or his skill set that were changing over that month and a half. Something else was happening, something very odd, that made the snow leopard wary and increasingly annoyed, even as it also filled him with an excitement and pleasure that it really shouldn't. It had to do with him, and it had to do with Mei Ling.

 

It started innocently enough—a look here, a glance there, times when he wasn't certain if she were winking at him or simply had a mote of dust caught in her eye—but as time went on, it became much harder for him to deny what was really going on. For example, there was the day when, after launching herself off the floor to sail unscathed between and over the Wooden Crocodiles, the mountain cat landed on the far side, only to stumble forward and fall into his waiting arms.

 

He would have thought nothing of it, save for the fact the soft, artful giggle behind her paw, and the sly, sidelong glance she gave a glowering Tigress rather rendered her 'accident' much more strategic in nature. And as the days passed, it became even more obvious that Mei Ling was up to something.

 

She kept finding excuses to stand beside him; when Po was confused about a particular hold or strike, she would dart out to hold onto Tai Lung's paw so she could bend it into the proper position as a visual aid…and then her touch would inexplicably linger. She pulled her punches when sparring far more often than seemed prudent, and when he struck her, she feigned injuries that simply were not there (he knew this because he hadn't been attacking with all his power either) so that he would have to spend time gently probing and stroking her paws and limbs to check for breaks.

 

Rather like her half-sister Jia, Mei Ling took quite a number of opportunities to become closer to him than was professional—whether leaning in over him to send a swift crescent punch across his muzzle, ducking low to latch on and send him flipping sideways over her hip, or encircling his neck with one slender beige arm as she drove a knee into the small of his back, she kept her soft fur and supple, lithe form sliding over him far more than was appropriate.

 

In the back of his mind whenever this happened, Tai Lung was vaguely amused at Tigress's continued resentment and huffy attitude. _What d'you expect, princess? I may be seeking your hand, but I'm not dead…and you haven't exactly been giving me many encouraging signs that we'll ever amount to anything, have you?_

 

And if seeing someone else seemingly pursuing him, and him failing to push her away, made the striped feline believe she'd lost her chance and a competition she hadn't known existed, well… Viper had said, after all, that all was fair in love and war.

 

What had the snow leopard so out of sorts, and uncertain whether to be angry at himself or at the mountain cat…was that he actually _was_ responding to her—at least, ahem, physically.

 

Objectively speaking, Mei Ling was an attractive female. She was closer to his own age than Tigress was. Unlike himself and the leader of the Five, who were more like oil and water, he and the Li Dai graduate got along swimmingly. She actually seemed to like him, and he had to admit she was charming, intelligent, sweet in a slightly vapid and perky way, and an all-around lovely person in general.

 

In fact he was fairly certain that any sane person, looking at all this from the outside, and comparing the mutual respect and admiration he and Mei Ling had for one another with the adversarial nature of his interactions with Tigress…well, they could be forgiven for thinking he'd fallen for the wrong woman. But none of this changed the fact that for good or for ill, it was indeed Tigress who made his heart ache and beat faster, who he wanted to spend all his time with—even the rest of his life. Some might consider him a glutton for punishment, but he couldn't resist being with her, even on some level enjoyed their backbiting and sniping.

 

And even though he'd sworn, the night of the full moon, to stop pursuing what seemed a hopeless folly, had even dallied briefly with Jia because he believed he had no hope with Tigress, how close she had come to death in the birch forest had only reminded him of what he'd sworn to himself in Yunxian. That whether or not she allowed it or even was pleased by it, he would not let anything happen to her no matter what it took. She mattered to him more than his own life at this point…and after coming so close to losing her, he'd be damned if he let her push him away anymore.

 

Which meant that learning he could actually harbor any appreciation, or desire, for Mei Ling, was an extremely unpleasant discovery…even as he felt his stomach doing flips and a certain light giddiness whenever the mountain cat smiled at him. What was wrong with him? How could he betray Tigress this way? Why couldn't he simply shove Mei away?

 

Was it just his inflated ego, enjoying all the attention, having women faint and fawn all over him? Were his hormones raging out of control now that he had more choices and possibilities available to him? Was he just reacting to temptation because it was being offered to him without strings attached, not forbidden and out of reach as Tigress had been? Or could he actually have more contradictory feelings than he thought?

 

It finally came to a head in the third week of Po's training and Tigress's recovery, during a sparring session at which all of them, even Crane, were present. Both he and the mountain cat had been at it for several hours, working up a fierce sweat and building up that deep yet satisfying burn in their muscles while they battled back and forth across the kwoon.

 

Ostensibly, they were putting on a demonstration to show Po both the proper execution of certain moves and to illustrate how the styles they'd been teaching him worked in a real combat situation—since Mei was using Tiger style and Tai Lung Dragon (with some of his personal signature moves thrown in for variety and unpredictable spontaneity). But in truth, both of them were enjoying getting their blood pumping, showing what they were truly capable of, and letting out the full extent of their talent and prowess, so the show was as much for their own benefit and to see how good each of them truly was.

 

The snow leopard proved what excellent balance and coordination he had by remaining solidly planted and secure despite being atop the endlessly rotating Spinning Serpents, while Mei Ling in turn testified to her acrobatic skills and agility by turning endless somersaults, backflips, and axels in mid-air as she swung from the Seven Talon Rings or the Clubs of Oblivion.

 

He lashed out with smooth, sinuous, reptilian motions, parrying and striking the mountain cat no matter which angle of approach she chose…counterbalanced by his tail, hissing menacingly to release his _chi_ each time their bodies came together. She twisted and twirled above the floor like flower petals on the wind, grasping and gripping his elbows and wrists with stunning regularity, only to whirl about and bring a stunning drop-kick onto him from above. He employed every single one of the Seven Plum Flower Punches; she retaliated with Leaving the Forest. Hua King's Fist met Tiger Claw.

 

Finally, after a blindingly fast series of punches and kicks had knocked him back along the Serpents until he teetered at the very edge of the water tank, Mei Ling flipped down from where she'd been clinging to one of the clubs' chains, landing adroitly on the helix-shaped wood in front of him. Keeping her balance with such ease and alacrity it was as if she were simply strolling down a woodland pathway, the mountain cat rushed him, both paws raised to strike—only at the last second, she sprang up to deliver a kick to his breastbone.

 

Reacting with equally incredible speed, Tai Lung switched to his own native style, ducking and crouching low so she sailed completely over his head, landing on the wooden walkway—only to follow her with a backflip of his own, so that by the time she'd turned back to face him, he had already risen to his full height and pinned her against the wall with his bulky body, one paw drawn back to strike, fingers curled.

 

They paused, frozen in place for a few split seconds…and then Mei Ling smiled in genuine appreciation, nodding firmly, and he grinned back, beginning to chuckle low and deep. "Oh _my_ …now I know why you thought you'd be the Dragon Warrior, Tai Lung. That was _phenomenal_! I don't think even our old master back at Li Dai could have outfought you." She tilted her head toward Crane as she said this.

 

Puffing out his chest in pride, the snow leopard buffed his knuckles on his sweaty white fur, even as he shot her an admiring look of his own. "Credit where credit's due, Master Mei. You're a crown jewel of your academy, and it's both an honor and a privilege to spar with you. Losing to you wouldn't be a shame—not if it taught me to do better next time."

 

He glanced sidelong at Tigress. "You're almost as good as Master Tigress here—and _she_ would have beaten me at the Thread of Hope, if I hadn't been a cheeky blighter and used a clever move on her she hadn't been prepared for."

 

Once, it would have hurt to admit that, it would have filled him with rage and hatred…but now all it told him was that he and Tigress truly were equals in every way that counted. Even if they never became more than friends—which, judging by the glower she was directing at him for the way he'd backhandedly phrased that last comment, certainly seemed likely at present—he truly itched to fight alongside her on the battlefield—especially if it was against the Wu Sisters.

 

Mei Ling blushed an attractive shade of red beneath her cheek fur, ducking her head shyly. "I bet you say that to all the pretty girls who knock the stuffing out of you," she teased.

 

He was about to retort that there weren't any other girls (or anyone, really) who'd succeeded in defeating him before Tigress and herself, and he half-expected the striped feline to snidely point out that even if there had been, he never would have admitted it to himself, let alone to their faces…a fact which he regretfully knew to be quite true.

 

But in a sudden bit of whimsy, he decided to derail Mei Ling's train of thought by leaning in to plant a gentle, friendly peck on her cheek. Unfortunately, she seemed to have the same idea, and right as he leaned in she turned her head—so that instead, they met muzzle-to-muzzle.

 

For a moment Tai Lung simply stiffened, eyes wide and chest heaving at the suddenness and unwelcome nature of this development. But then, as he felt the mountain cat's slender body pressed tightly against his and the pressure of her warm, moist lips, something within him gave in to instinct and he responded—arm wrapping around her, paw sliding down to tuck her into place, as his eyes lidded and he melted into the kiss.

 

Part of him—a very strong and adamant part of him—was beating away inside his skull, railing at him for giving in to this unexpected desire. _What d'you think you're doing, you bloody fool? She…isn't…Tigress! Remember? Love of your life, stripey fur, has a pair of fists that'll smash your face in if you even look at another woman?_

 

The rest of him, however, ignored this to focus solely on the soft-furred, delightful armful in his embrace—and it was enjoying the attention and appreciation Mei Ling was giving him. **_Sod off! Where's the harm in exploring other options, eh? And as long you're not getting any from Miss Frosty Britches, you might as well find another outlet._**

 

Yes, that had to be it, it was only his hormones responding, nothing more. Because while he might not know everything he should about Tigress, he knew even less about Mei Ling. Not to mention she was a little too wholesome and sweet for his tastes, not the blending of spice and fire that made the leader of the Five such a challenge. She might be a dalliance, a flirtation, but she could never be anything more to him, not the way Tigress was…right?

 

Nevertheless, he was still lost in the kiss, and might have remained like that for who knew how long, if not for the need to come up for air. And then there was the forceful grip on his shoulders that jerked him back roughly and twisted him violently to the side, that might have had something to do with him coming back to reality, too. Gasping in shock, he found himself staring into a pair of golden ruby eyes he knew all too well, glaring at him from a face so incensed, so vehement in her anger and disgust that he was startled by it.

 

"What the _hell_ was that?" Tigress snarled viciously. "This is supposed to be a serious training session, not a chance for you to swap spit! Did you even stop to think, or just act impulsively as usual? I thought you were more dedicated than that. I thought you respected kung fu more than this— _both_ of you!" She turned her withering stare on Mei Ling then.

 

But the mountain cat didn't look apologetic at all, only bemused. In fact as she stepped back away from Tai Lung and allowed Tigress to separate them, she strolled across the walkway toward the door of the training hall apparently without a care in the world, tail lashing slowly and hips sashaying noticeably. At least, the snow leopard couldn't keep his eyes from being drawn to them…

 

Chuckling, Mei Ling at last turned back and leaned against the door jamb, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she rested her amused brown eyes on the striped feline, a tiny smile of satisfaction on her lips. "What? Can't a girl enjoy herself? You really need to learn to lighten up, Master Tigress, have fun, live a little! Life's too short to get bent out of shape over things like this, you know." She paused, then winked. "And I didn't know I was treading on your territory."

 

Tigress blinked, and then somehow her face became even more cold and hateful as her red eyes narrowed to thin slits. "I wouldn't imply such things if I were you," she hissed. "Tai Lung hardly belongs to me, nor do I wish him to. You simply seem to have forgotten all the boundaries of a decent and moral society! This is _very_ unprofessional of you, I am severely disappointed…if you can't learn to behave, then I'm afraid you won't be part of these lessons with Po any longer."

 

Mei Ling threw her head back and laughed at that, and even as the snow leopard was staring at her in growing disbelief and anger, she winked suggestively at Tigress. "He doesn't? Well that's good! Because if _you_ don't want him, I do!"

 

The kwoon became utterly and even terrifyingly silent. For several moments no one moved or spoke, save for the panda coughing discreetly behind his paw and mumbling to himself. Then, with a violent rustle of feathers and the abrupt clacking shut of his bill (which had hitherto been hanging open in shock), Crane shoved past Po and Mei Ling both—only shooting the latter a very hurt and dejected look before flying without a word out the door, up toward the heights of the mountain. Even as the mountain cat stared after him in confusion and, he thought, a touch of despair, Tigress too was pushing past the other feline, glaring contemptuously at her before limping away on her still swollen ankle.

 

Again there was silence. Then, looking even more embarrassed and awkward than before, the Dragon Warrior sidled toward the door as well. "Er…um…I better go check up on them, make sure they're okay an' all. You two…uh, I bet you two got a lotta…stuff…t' talk about here, so I'll just…be goin'. Yeah…" And with that he beat a hasty retreat down the cobbled walkway toward the Jade Palace and the bunkhouse.

 

Mei Ling watched him go, shaking her head slowly, but when she spoke she was quite obviously referring to Tigress. "Who does she think she is? I'm not one of Master Shifu's students she can order around however she pleases. In fact I'm not a student at all—I'm a master, and I'm here out of the goodness of my heart, helping you out because it's the right thing to do. If I want to keep training the Dragon Warrior, then that's just what'll happen, no ifs, ands, or buts…"

 

She didn't get to say any more. Because at that moment, while she was distracted and not paying attention, Tai Lung lunged forward and wrapped one massive paw around her slender throat. Before she could do more than gasp and let out a strangled cry, he'd lifted her off the floor and swung her about, slamming her with bruising force into one of the ceiling posts.

 

Pinning her in place as she struggled futilely to break free, the snow leopard held her in a mirror of the pose with which they'd ended their sparring—only this time, there was no coy playfulness, no mutual respect or witty repartee…only an ugly growl rising in the back of his throat and a raging fire building deep in his chest. More furious than he had been since first encountering the Wu Sisters again, a dark and twisted hate beginning to consume him, the snow leopard kept his tightly clenched fist poised and drawn back only by sheer force of will—even as his other paw almost crushed her throat.

 

"All right…what's the big idea?" he growled venomously. "D'you have a yearning to be one with the universe, Miss Ling? Because Tigress is certainly hankering for your pelt, and if you don't explain what you're about in two seconds, so will I."

 

"Wait…Tai…Tai Lung, it's not…what you think." The mountain cat struggled to breathe around his constricting fingers, her paws both clutching at his thick forearm as she hung suspended against the post. "I was only…trying to help…"

 

" _What_?" So startled was he by this apparently nonsensical admission that he forgot his anger and actually dropped her on the floor. He even stepped back a pace and stared at her as if she'd just declared herself the Emperor's personal concubine. This made no sense; he could _not_ have heard her right.

 

Rubbing soothingly at her throat to massage air and shape back into it (in a manner far too reminiscent of Po, back when they'd first trained here almost two months ago), Mei Ling understandably took a few moments to respond. When she did, though, it was in a surprisingly playful and amused tone.

 

"You heard me. I…I happened to overhear you and Master Viper talking in the bathhouse, about trying to help Tigress get over her distrust of you, so you two could be together. So I decided I'd do my best to help out. Make her jealous…make her think you might be going off the market, that she had competition and had better claim you before she lost you."

 

Tai Lung had to fight harder than he ever had to keep his face expressionless and not give away what he was feeling—which was, though he hated to admit it, deep embarrassment and a severe blow to his ego. On the one paw, to know the mountain cat had heard what he and the serpent had discussed…including how he had made an utter ass of himself trying to learn the ways of women and romance…rather made him wish to crawl into a hole and pull something over him—like the entire Tian Shan range, for example.

 

On the other paw, even though it had angered him to think Mei Ling's little kiss (and, it had to be acknowledged, his positive response to it) might have ruined his chances with Tigress, at the same time he liked knowing another female found him attractive. _I know I shouldn't be thinking this, but…first Jia, now Mei and, if I play my cards right, Tigress. With so many women fighting over me, maybe I'm not such a bad catch after all._ To find out instead that Mei had only been coming on to him as a ploy to trick Tigress was…disheartening.

 

Finally managing a coherent phrase, he grumbled at last, "Oh…I see. So…you were doing it to force her hand…not because…"

 

She laughed, rich and musical and merry, and when she spoke she seemed to have read his mind—perhaps his concern was that transparent. "Oh, I wanted to do it, all right! Rest assured, Tai Lung, you're a guy that any woman in her right mind would want—well, if she likes the dark, broody type. Though you are getting better, I admit. If matters were different, I might…well…"

 

Mei Ling grinned suggestively and licked her dark lips again, and for a brief moment of insanity the snow leopard entertained notions of what it would be like to pursue and seduce his fellow master of the thousand scrolls. _If I weren't already smitten with Tigress…_ He shook his head violently to clear it of such traitorous thoughts.

 

The other feline's voice grew serious and intense. "But the thing is, matters are the way they are. And I wouldn't change them, not for a minute. I already have someone I love…and I'd never want to truly interfere with you and Master Tigress. You've got a good thing going there—and you two will be wonderful for each other, I can see it! She just needs a little…nudge in the right direction."

 

Tai Lung ran a paw over his head, then down across his muzzle, trying to make sense of the way the world had turned upside down. Someone thought he was attractive and worth loving—or as Jia put it, a stud. _About damn time_. He was no longer alone in his quest to prove his love to Tigress, and earn hers in return—both Viper and Mei Ling were in on it with him now, perhaps even Mantis and Po. Others thought they stood a chance, that it was actually a noble and honorable thing rather than a folly or a recipe for disaster.

 

He wanted Tigress more than ever now, to be with her, show her his undying affection and devotion…yet he couldn't deny he felt an underlying attraction to Mei Ling. And now, for the first time, instead of him feeling jealous of males, past and present, who had caught Tigress's eye or sought her paw, it was the striped feline who might be taking the brunt of the envy and possessiveness.

 

Looking up abruptly, his anger forgotten—even as, oddly, he still felt a simmering heat deep within himself, ready to explode again into a towering inferno at the right provocation—he narrowed his gaze at the mountain cat. "You're certain of this? You really think your flirting and playing the coquette is going to make a difference?"

 

The beige-furred feline turned and glanced significantly across the grassy slope toward the distant timbers and tiles of the dormitory rising from its higher terrace. "You've got eyes as well as I do, Tai Lung. I'd say it's _already_ working. Even if she isn't ready to admit she wants you, she won't allow anyone else to either. She's used to fighting for what she wants, of course. But up 'til now, she's won more often than not, it's how she became leader of the Five. She lost the Dragon Scroll to Po, though…and now she's afraid she might lose you. We keep this going long enough, she'll come around, make her move."

 

For several more moments, the snow leopard frowned as he considered all the evidence, the choices, and the results. It was manipulative, but if it helped Tigress get past her insecurity and that huge blind spot she had when it came to his past evils…it would have to be kept from her, of course, or else she'd see it as yet another sign Tai Lung wasn't to be trusted. Still…after all the pain and heartache she'd put him through, refusing to unbend or see him in a different light…making him pine, unrequited, for her while she continued heaping abuse and contempt upon him…

 

That decided him. Smirking openly, he finally nodded and regarded her with a naughty twinkle in his eyes. "Fine. Let's do it. Let's give her a taste of her own medicine."

                                                                      

* * *

 

It turned out, however, that Mei Ling's scheme had already borne fruit, and little more needed to be done to guide Tigress into the desired channels. For after only another week of being treated to the seeming blossoming of love between Tai Lung and the mountain cat—batted eyelids across the kitchen table and paws brushing together as they reached for dishes, blushes and giggles whenever they passed in the halls, and being caught 'unawares' as they cuddled in various corners of the Jade Palace—the striped feline finally put her foot down.

 

Without explaining the reason to a rather befuddled Shifu, she declared that he would be taking Tai Lung's place in continuing Po's training, and that the snow leopard would instead focus almost all his time on the nursing duties he had, after all, demanded be given to him in the first place.

 

The only exception she made to his new task was allowing him a little 'playtime'. For whenever Zhuang was at the palace re-constructing devices for the training hall, laying new stone troughs to bring water to the fountains in the back gardens, or otherwise keeping himself happily occupied, little Yi would be skipping, hopping, and dancing along behind or beside him. To keep her out of danger, the bull would suggest with a grin that she seek out her 'kitty'—and soon enough, the snow leopard would be enmeshed in endless games of tag, pouncing and rolling about in the grass, and tickle sessions where Tai Lung's laughs would ring out loudest and longest of all.

 

He also built a swing for her using a spare plank of wood and sturdy but pliant vines from the cypress trees, and many hours he could be seen pushing her to new heights, sending her flying out far over the mountain slope until she almost seemed to disappear in the skies above, her body becoming one with the childish cries of glee that echoed in the endless blue. Watching Tai Lung be so uninhibited and gentle, finally allowing himself to enjoy life's simple pleasures and the joys of cubhood again, almost made Mei Ling's heart break—but judging from the mistiness and warmth that entered Tigress's eyes whenever she chanced to witness such a sight, the leader of the Five was just as moved.

 

And it was this, in the end, that in an indirect manner finally allowed the snow leopard to make inroads into Tigress's heart. Because one day, about three and a half weeks after the encounter in the birch forest, the snow leopard was searching in one of the striped feline's dressers for a jar of muscle relaxant for her neck when he came across something hidden in the darkest, dustiest corner of the drawer—something which did not belong and seemed more like something Yi would own than the master of the Tiger style.

 

It was a lacquered box—very old, covered with what had once been brightly painted flowers and birds, but rather battered and not in the best of shape, with pieces of wood missing out of its multi-grained pattern and tarnished hinges. At the same time, though, it had clearly known a great deal of love and attention. He knew he should not be prying into Tigress's private things, not if he wanted to keep his heart still beating in his chest, but with as reticent and closed-mouthed as she tended to be, he also knew he'd likely never learn anything of her past without such investigations. So, he took out the box and gently opened the lid.

 

There was a fair collection of objects within—shiny, glittering pebbles, tattered scrolls tied shut and already yellowed and cracking with age, bottles of ink and sticks of incense, scattered coins and spools of ribbon. But one thing above all drew his gaze, and he handled it with tender care as he pulled it from its cobwebbed, dark hiding place.

 

It was, of all things, a doll. Fashioned of what had once been highly polished wood with articulated joints and movable limbs, it was clearly of peasant construction—both in the cheapness of the material and the personal, hand-crafted care that showed in its make: only someone with patience, many hours to devote to it, and a great love for the intended recipient would have bothered to build it, and that certainly didn't apply to anyone among the rich and elite.

 

Carved to look like a feline of some sort—at a guess he'd have to say a tiger—it looked to have once had real fur attached, long since worn or rotted away, and the wood itself was badly damaged in several places, cracked, snapped, and even scorched with ash. It also wore the tattered, torn remnants of what looked to have been a genuine silk _da-ao_ of pale cream, now faded and dirtied to a dingy gray.

 

"Tai Lung, it doesn't take that long to find one jar," Tigress growled from the bed behind him. "What are you looking—" She broke off as he turned around and mutely held up the doll, then her mouth hardened as she spoke through gritted teeth. "Put that back. _Now_."

 

"What is it?" He did his best to hold it still and cradled in his massive paw, keeping one of the dangling arms from dropping completely free of the shoulder joint. "I mean, I know it's a doll, but…I never thought _you_ would have—"

 

Tigress glared so hatefully at him he actually cringed…but then the expression inexplicably turned to one of sorrow and regret, and her lip even quivered slightly as she gazed at the old toy. "If you must know," she choked out, slowly and thickly, "it was mine when I was a little girl. From before Bao Gu. I brought it with me when I lost my parents, and have kept it with me ever since, so I'd always have…something to remind me, to connect me with them. It is also very fragile, so _please_ , if you have any respect for me, any shred of decency in you, put it back where you found it."

 

Even if harming a piece of her distant cubhood was not the last thing he would ever wish to do, that tone and the anguished, haunted look on her striped face would have made him obey anyway. As he carefully placed the doll back in the box—but conspicuously left it sitting open and upright on the dresser top—he asked, softly, "How did it become so…broken? And how did you…lose them? They didn't…die in my rampage, did they?"

 

He didn't know which hurt more—that he had to ask the question, or that thanks to the insane fury which had possessed him that day twenty years ago, he actually had no way of knowing the answer since he remembered so little of his destructive deeds.

 

For a moment he thought Tigress was going to burst into tears, or else roar at him in a verbal attack as vicious as any her claws could carry out. But instead she only stared down at her bed sheets, sighed, and shook her head. "No…at least, I don't think so. From what Mrs. Fa told me, I was three years old when I was brought to the orphanage, and that was a year before you were taken to Chorh-Gom. She mentioned something about a terrible earthquake…I think that's how the doll got damaged."

 

Tai Lung frowned slightly…something about that sounded familiar. But then, there were often many earthquakes in China, and he couldn't be expected to recall the details of something so long ago, especially when his crazed rage and two decades of isolation and paralysis lay between then and now. "I'm sorry," he said, simply. "I know it doesn't mean much…but I do know how you feel. At least you had a little something to remember your parents by. I didn't even have that."

 

For once, she didn't castigate him for daring to compare their lives and pain. Instead she only hung her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and whispered, "Sometimes I wish I didn't either…sometimes it seems, having a tiny piece is worse than nothing at all. Other times…I'm glad I have it, even if it does hurt. It…reminds me of what I fight for, to protect the innocent, and make sure no other children have to lose their families, the way I did. I can't fight a natural disaster, but I can fight people. And I can be there to help, if tragedy strikes. It's something Master Oogway always taught us." She swallowed against a lump in her throat.

 

The snow leopard nodded mechanically, recalling similar lessons from the sage turtle…ones he had embraced, then rejected as weak and pitiful, and had now begun to see the wisdom of once more. Even as he did so, though, he impulsively scooped up the doll again—and as Tigress once more closed her eyes to wipe away tears, he closed the box and drawer and came to her side with the jar of pungent cream—but secretly, the doll was nestled inside his shirt, right against his heart…

 

A week later, Tai Lung came to her room to bring her dinner. Finding her apparently asleep, he set the tray on her bedside table and took the opportunity to slip silently back to the dresser again. Just as he had the oaken box open and was replacing the doll inside it, he heard the floor creak behind him—and suddenly he felt hot breath on his neck as a strong paw grasped his throat, claws unsheathed to rip out his jugular, the other paw poised to do the same to his stomach.

 

"I thought I _told_ you," Tigress growled, "to keep your paws off…" She trailed off, eyes wide and shining in the cloaking shadows of the late summer evening as she released him and stepped away slightly, staring down at what he held.

 

The doll was now repaired, in perfect and almost pristine condition. The wood was so smooth and polished it almost glowed in the fading sunlight, and every joint and limb was properly pegged and screwed in place. A faint flocking of dark gold velvet alternating with black, meant to stand in for a tiger's pelt, now covered the figure in a soft fuzz. Bright, gaily shining paint had been applied to make the doll's eyes and lips look almost startlingly real. And as for the dress…it now blazed as white as the full moon, silver and gold thread woven in its fabric like meandering streams, looking as misty and gleaming as moonlight transformed into gossamer. It was truly a work of art.

 

"Oh…sweet Kwan Yin, how did you…?"

 

He said not a word as he handed the doll carefully over, lightly pressed her fingers around the restored relic of her cubhood, and gazed at her meaningfully. He could have explained how he'd taken the toy to Zhuang and asked him, as a humble favor, to repair the wooden figure and carve out new wood where it was needed, that he'd spent hours at fabric stores searching for just the right material to approximate the color and feel of Tigress's own fur.

 

He could have told her that Xiulan had turned out to be employed as one of the best seamstresses in the Valley, and that by using Zhuang as an intermediary—never revealing who the client was—he'd been able to have the cow woman procure the expensive new silk and stitch it herself. He could have mentioned that the whole thing had cost him an entire month's allowance, pressed on the bull despite his constant protestations that for a friend he would do all the work for free.

 

But he didn't say any of this. He didn't have to. What mattered was, as she took the doll and clutched it close to her chest, and he gazed up into eyes that were a mystery, he could see something he'd never expected to see there—tears of gratitude and joy, welling up and then trickling through her cheek fur. She couldn't even find the words to thank him, or to apologize for suspecting him of some sort of crude vandalism—but he merely patted her paw reassuringly, then quietly slipped out of the room, leaving her standing by the dresser, stunned and speechless…

 

As the days passed by a little more swiftly after that, things seemed to become easier and more natural with Tigress—not because Tai Lung had learned how to 'handle' her properly, but because he was following Viper's advice: listening to his patient, and then doing all he could to show her his affections, that he cared and understood, because he was following his heart.

 

With each discovery he made about her, each way in which he showed his thoughtfulness, each new interaction, he found himself not only making up for his 'faux pas' with Mei Ling, but caring more deeply and intensely for the fiery woman who had become the center of his world. And he found that all that mattered to him at the moment was finding more and more ways to make her smile, laugh, forget her troubles, recall happy memories rather than tragic ones.

 

A discreet inquiry made of the panda helped him discover Tigress's favorite food to be braised fish in soy sauce—and true to what he'd told Viper during their role-play, he asked Po to help him prepare it, something the Dragon Warrior was only too happy to do. The resultant dish, garnished with garlic, ginger, scallion, and soybeans, was one Tigress declared to be the best she'd ever eaten, and when Tai Lung shared it with her, he had to agree.

 

Similarly, an observation from Mantis that the striped feline had always loved _The Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ had prompted him to fetch the copy he'd appropriated from Oogway's belongings—and the next week of her convalescence was spent burning candles into the midnight hours, reading lurid passages out loud by her bedside.

 

Having memorized many of them years ago the same way he had _The Art of War_ allowed him to be a much better reader than she'd probably expected, supplying various voices and tones to express all manner of characters and emotions, from speechifying warlords to loyal servants, treacherous advisors to wily washerwomen. But what truly pleased him was discovering they had many of the same tales in common as their perennial favorites: the tyrannical rule of Dong Zhuo, brought to an end at last by the betrayal of his foster son Lu Bu (he appreciated the elimination of a wicked, unjust ruler, but Tigress additionally cheered on the clever and independent Diao Chan who had manipulated both of them for love and the good of the empire).

 

The Battle of the Red Cliff, where the duplicitous and amoral Cao Cao was soundly defeated by an alliance of Liu Bei and Sun Quan. The determined but sadly fruitless quest of Ma Chao to slay Cao Cao, in revenge for the death of his father Ma Teng—something both felines could greatly sympathize with.

 

And the incomparable general Zhuge Liang, who succeeded in fending off five armies without shedding a single drop of blood (something that greatly impressed Tai Lung), and captured the rebel king Meng Huo six times, only to release him when the fellow pled trickery as his downfall; Tigress was moved by the general's mercy, and the fact this led in the end to Meng Huo swearing undying loyalty to Liang's ruler was, she thought, a great lesson in how even ones thought enemies could one day become true friends…

 

On still another night, when Tigress was feeling particularly lonely and trapped by her infirmity, she observed that a certain song she recalled from her cubhood had always managed to calm and soothe her when nothing else would—but for the life of her, she couldn't remember more than a few notes. When she whistled them, however, Tai Lung recognized it almost immediately as one from his early adolescence that stayed popular for many years…and to the striped feline's astonishment and marked pleasure, the snow leopard soon produced his flute and played it flawlessly.

 

By the time he'd gone through all the verses he remembered and the final notes of the gentle, somnolent tune had faded out, it had done its work—relaxing Tigress so greatly she had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his fluffy white chest fur. Needless to say, even apart from not wishing to wake her, Tai Lung was quite happy to keep her close to him, one arm cradled protectively around her, for many hours—dreaming, and hoping.

 

Finally, on the recommendation of Viper—although he was not certain why—after changing the bandage on her head, gently prodding her side to determine her rib was indeed close to being fully healed, and checking her no longer swollen ankle with a satisfied air, the snow leopard challenged Tigress to a game of dominoes.

 

After giving him an inscrutable look which could have meant anything or nothing, the striped feline produced the same set of old wooden tiles she had found in Oogway's chamber—and instead of mixing them up for play upon the table, she bent down and with the utmost of delicate care began setting them upright on the floor, marking out some sort of intricate, unusual pattern. When she caught him looking at her, she shrugged and gave him a pointed look of her own.

 

"What? There's more than one way to play with dominoes. This is one Shifu taught me, when I was just a little girl…it teaches patience, diligence, and gentility." She paused and smirked openly at him. "So it's likely beyond you, I'm afraid."

 

Tai Lung gazed at her expressionlessly for a few moments, then quite deliberately scooped up three domino tiles between his thick fingers and arranged them artfully not far from the window, forming his own radial pattern. Crossing his arms over his chest, he grinned cheekily at her, his tone quite smug. "I do believe I should consider that a challenge…I accept."

 

For the next several hours, they were engrossed in their strangely silent yet intensely competitive game, setting up complex and unusual arrangements, only to knock them down again to form beautiful patterns on the floor. Yin-Yangs, lotus blooms, mandalas, they wove and interlocked their creations as well as building them as stand-alone images.

 

Tigress seemed stunned at the grace and feather-light touch the snow leopard used to arrange his tiles (she had forgotten, of course, that in mastering the thousand scrolls he'd had to learn delicate and precise moves as well as more brutal and punishing ones, and that he'd learned to manage and control his strength just as well as she had). But he in turn was also impressed by the skill and care she evinced—it was still, in a sense, a competition, but rather than trying to outmaneuver, outfight, and eventually pummel each other into physical submission as they had upon their first meeting at the Thread of Hope, now they were attempting a more stylized, synchronized, and almost serene approach to victory—winning by virtue of beauty.

 

By the time night had fallen, each had convinced the other there was truly no contest—when it came to the laying of dominoes, as it was for kung fu and so much else in their lives, the two felines were equals. So instead of trying to defeat each other, they mutually decided, without even consulting on it, to work together…that winning would take the form of creating the single most amazing and impressive design they could muster.

 

And they did, too: using every single tile in the collection, Tai Lung and Tigress laid out rows, rings, snaking arcs and weaving symmetry—whether by chance or design choosing to duplicate the same exact thing, covering the entire room in the process, save for where furniture rose like islands from the midst of the wooden game pieces. After the final tile had been set in place, both of them looked at each other from opposite sides of the room—for once wearing the same expression of wonder, amusement, and pleasure. Nodding as one, they toppled the dominoes.

 

Clicking and clattering, whizzing and blurring as each knocked over its neighbor on the plank flooring, the tiles soon made their design more and more apparent: gold bursting outward to form the dragon's head which had for centuries held clutched in its jaws the Dragon Scroll both of them had believed would one day be theirs; then crimson, emerald, pale blue and pure white surrounding it, spreading out to fashion one of Oogway's most complicated, many-petaled flower designs, which they both recalled from cubhood lessons with his scrolls…

 

It was almost disheartening, having to scoop up, neatly pile, and store away the dominoes after that, but of course they couldn't leave the floor littered with such obstacles to foot traffic (especially with the klutzy Po coming in and out the most often). Still, Tai Lung didn't mind, since the task afforded many opportunities to 'accidentally' brush his paw against Tigress's…and to his surprise, and distinct pleasure, not only did she not jerk away whenever this occurred, she seemed to engineer just as many such interactions—and he was sure she felt the same electric connection whenever they touched that he did.

 

When the last wooden rectangle had been placed in its box, the snow leopard at last gathered together their supper dishes and prepared to depart. But just as he was about to blow out the lantern and return to his own room, Tigress called out from the bed. "Tai Lung…I'm sorry."

 

He glanced back over his shoulder at her, blinking. "For what? Not beating the pants off of me at dominoes?" He smirked, and for a wonder she smirked back, a fleeting expression that soon shifted back to regret.

 

"No." Her voice sounded truly contrite and gentle. "For thinking you tried to kill Po in Yunxian. When I apologized before, I didn't really mean it. As I'm sure you knew. But now…I do. I know now you could never have done something like that. Not anymore."

 

A constriction he hadn't even realized was still restraining his heart suddenly seemed to let go, letting a flooding warmth of relief wash through him. But he didn't acknowledge it except to slowly give her a tiny nod. "Yes…well, thank you. I should apologize too…I shouldn't have become so angry with you, when your last apology was…less than heartfelt. I know why you thought I did it—I don't blame you, I probably would've thought the same thing, in your place." He paused. "And anyway, that's what the sisters wanted you to think."

 

"I got that part," Tigress said ruefully. "What I still don't understand is why. Why would they care what I, or we, thought of you? For that matter, why would whoever hired them care?"

 

Tai Lung hesitated, debating with himself on the merits of coming clean, admitting the truth. But Viper had said he had to be honest, to speak what was in his heart. And he wanted to tell her—even if she would judge him, once again think the worst of him, he had to tell her. It would unload such a burden from his shoulders, and it just might help her understand him. "They wanted me to join them…or Xiu did, at any rate. The same as she did twenty years ago…"

 

" _What_?" The leader of the Five didn't sound furious or hateful, at least not toward him, but openly disbelieving.

 

Quickly, as simply as possible and without spelling out in great detail exactly how it had influenced his future (although he knew she could read between the lines as well as anyone), he explained how he and the Wu Sisters had first met, the offer they had made, and how they had parted as less than friends.

 

"Xiu still thinks she can nab me," he finished matter-of-factly. "I don't know what this has to do with her employer—" _A lie. But you can't very well tell her there's an insane, chi-siphoning shadow out there who'd love for you to be his right-hand man and trophy, now can you?_ "—but she at least will stop at nothing till I ally with her, or die. She even offered to give me my family back, if I signed up." He held up a paw to forestall her protest. "Don't worry, I already know—she's got to be lying through her teeth. And even if she isn't, I don't want them back at that price."

 

"Tai Lung, I…"

 

"Please. Just hear me out." He took one more deep breath, then crossed over to her side and settled down on the bed, reaching out to take her paw in his; she didn't stop him, but neither did she encourage him, for she was limp with either shock or disappointment.

 

"They're the most lethal killers in all of China. I'm the greatest kung fu warrior of my generation. We're all snow leopards. You do the math. That's why they wanted you, and the rest of the Five, to turn on me. So I'd be all alone, with nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. Even if I never went back to being a villain, having somewhere to belong, someone to call comrades, would have been better than nothing.

 

"But I can tell you now: I will _never_ , under any circumstances, join them. Using kung fu that way wouldn't be honorable. And after what they did to Po…and to you…well, it's not even on the menu. No choice at all, really. This is where I belong, and it's where I'm going to stay, no matter what they think." He could hear his own voice, rough and fierce with his churning emotions, and he quickly fell silent to maintain some semblance of dignity. Besides, he'd said all that needed to be said.

 

For a long time Tigress stared at him, wordless and contemplative. Then, finally, she murmured, "What the sisters said, what they wanted…you didn't have to tell me that, you know."

 

"Yes," he disagreed with her. "Yes, I did." And before she could stop him, he leaned in to plant a kiss—soft, quick, no more than a chaste brush of his lips—on her forehead. In the same motion, he rose from the bed, squeezing her paws tightly before releasing them. As he went to fetch the trays again, and cupped one paw around the lantern to blow out the flame, he kept his eyes on her the whole time.

 

He could see in her own eyes such a riot of conflicting emotions—confusion, distrust, curiosity, gratitude—but above all one he had not yet seen, one he had believed impossible could ever reside there, yet one that made his heart leap to see it now. Affection and tenderness…perhaps, if it were not just wishful thinking on his part, even some form of love.

 

Whether his surmise was correct, and if so where it would lead and however it might deepen, it heartened him more than he could ever put into words. Not because his romance, with Viper's assistance, finally seemed to be working, but because he had hated the thought that the woman he loved might never return his feelings.

 

After all, it would be a terrible thing to give your life for someone who didn't even give a damn about you. And he knew, more than ever, that he would. He would die for Tigress…and whatever happened in the days ahead, he would make sure, one way or another, that nothing and no one ever brought any harm to her. Not again. _Not ever_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a whole lot to say this time. The only thing I feel I should point out, and it's probably fairly obvious, is that I did plenty of research again—on kung fu (hence the information about Eagle Claw, Dragon, and Tiger styles— _qinna_ is the term for grappling and joint-locks from the Lian Quan core set), on fashion (the dress the doll was wearing), and on literature ( _The Romance of the Three Kingdoms_ —I chose with great care which tales from it to relate). And finally there's the 'blink and you miss it' reference to the "Making of KFP" segment, in Jack Black's imitation/summation of Crane style which I've included during Po's training here.


	26. Return to Wu Dan

 

 

With a gorgeous, coruscating flood of lambent majesty, the sun rose over the eastern cliffs, sending its brilliant golden beams spearing straight down across the gorge, the farm fields and forests, the river valley and outlying homesteads, and the ledges of the mountains which climbed higher and higher into the rugged, mist-swathed peaks ringing the Valley of Peace.

 

It also picked out the three forms hiking up into the cool, brisk air of the towering range, as they had been since the night before—two of a fairly massive size (in muscle and girth, respectively), and the one in the lead extremely tiny and unprepossessing; the former laden with enormous backpacks stuffed to capacity with all manner of cookware, weaponry, foodstuffs, and even an appreciable selection of scrolls, the latter conspicuously unburdened, simply strolling along the pathway with his large ears pricked attentively and his goateed chin lifted so he could inhale the crisp alpine air.

 

Behind him, Master Shifu could hear Po's whimpers and grumbling, and while Tai Lung's measured, even breathing and unwavering tread on the stone showed he had no difficulty with the terrain or the load, every once in a while he thought he caught a sarcastic mutter or two from the snow leopard as well.

 

But he ignored both of them, and not just because he was by now used to the panda's protests whenever anything involving physical activity he couldn't handle came up, or because even now he still expected a certain reluctance on his son's part. It was because he knew, more than ever, this journey and the training which would come of it were absolutely essential—not just to stopping the Wu Sisters and that rampaging killer, but to finishing Tai Lung's lessons…saving him from himself.

 

It had all begun, or at least come to his attention, after they had all returned from Yunxian. Understandably, everyone in the Jade Palace had been upset, even infuriated, by the horrific killing they'd discovered, and while Tai Lung had been the most vehement and his desire to see justice done the most visible, every member of the Five, even sweet-natured Viper, had wanted to see the insane murderer locked away or better yet executed for his crimes.

 

But the wild, tempestuous rage the snow leopard had taken out on a tree when they'd discovered the goat had, it turned out, only been the start of something just as troublesome. For during the weeks that had passed before deaths began occurring in the Valley of Peace, Tai Lung's anger had not, it seemed, ever truly faded but become a constant simmer just under the surface—and he wasn't the only one being affected.

 

There was Tigress's nonsensical and uncontrolled pursuit of the Wu Sisters into the forest, a course of action that had badly injured her and almost taken her life—and one apparently motivated not just by goodwill or a desire to protect and defend, but a very real and inexplicable hatred and contempt that had nearly consumed her. Monkey, in turn, had grown more and more volatile and vicious the longer he had to put up with the snow leopard's presence and the clearer it became Tai Lung wouldn't be going anywhere; several times, Shifu had caught the primate glaring at the feline behind his back when he thought no one was looking, and with such malice and bloodlust in his eyes the red panda was beginning to doubt his own sanity at seeing it.

 

Even Crane, the most level-headed, calm, and logical of the Five, had begun to eye Tai Lung askance, eyes narrowed and gleaming with a faintly cold light from beneath the brim of his _dou li_ , as if he suspected foul play and was ready to leap in to slash the spotted cat's abdomen open if he crossed some invisible line. Why that should be, he had no idea.

 

As for Tai Lung himself, while the last month and a half had shown a remarkable and blessedly welcome cooling of hostilities between him and Tigress, Shifu had resolved to watch his son much more closely than he had been. And everywhere he looked, there were signs…the way he growled, snarled, and rumbled under his breath as he paced the Sacred Hall of Warriors anxiously awaiting Zeng's return…how his fur bristled whenever the Wu Sisters or, oddly, the Emperor, were brought up…how he snapped at Shifu, the temple guards, and even the servants whenever one of them reminded him of his chores and daily tasks, as well as if it was suggested he should take a little time off to rest and center himself.

 

This could all be written off as mere irritability, worry, and even (though Tai Lung would never admit it) fear—if not for what had taken place in the training hall the previous afternoon. It had seemed like a sparring session like any other, one where the snow leopard and the Dragon Warrior had battled back and forth across the kwoon, Po employing the techniques he'd been taught while the feline attempted to use his own kung fu repertoire as well as the devices of the training hall to distract, confuse, or otherwise undermine the panda's defenses.

 

Thanks to learning the Dragon stance and taking it to heart, Po had succeeded at last in maintaining his balance atop the Spinning Serpents—but Tai Lung had released the Swinging Clubs, and as he stood at the edge of the tank, he would turn without warning, darting out with Mantis strikes or whirling about in a spin-kick to send a club flying right back at the black-and-white bear. When Po succeeded in dodging them, or else punching with enough force to shatter the wood, Tai Lung had leapt adroitly upwards to catch hold of one of the Seven Talon Rings; there, hanging inverted by his feet, he swung back and forth across the kwoon, coming at the Dragon Warrior again and again to deliver one punch after another—but Po managed to block every one of them.

 

Finally, when the panda leapt off the rotating wood, performed a perfect split to avoid the arm of a Wooden Crocodile, and then flipped atop it with the aid of a single finger, the snow leopard had seemed to become fiercely intense and determined to bring his student down. Also leaping onto the Crocodiles, he had sprung up to deliver a kick to Po's belly, only to duck low as he landed so as to sweep out with one leg.

 

The panda had danced aside to keep from being spilled ignominiously on his backside (and crushed by the greased training devices), but Tai Lung had pursued him—punching and kicking repeatedly, as if he were trying to beat the Dragon Warrior into an unmoving mass of bruises and broken bones, with each strike Po blocked only leading to another that did connect, knocking him backwards several feet.

 

By the time Shifu had rushed forward to intervene, the snow leopard had sent Po sailing to land with stunning force in the no-man's-land fronting the Field of Fiery Death—and even as the red panda had in turn landed on Tai Lung's broad back, the feline had become a frantic blur of fists and feet, pounding again and again into Po's downed form.

 

Only when Shifu had jabbed his fingers in a Crane strike to hit the snow leopard's pressure points had he desisted…oddly enough, shaking his head rather violently as if emerging from a rainstorm, a dazed and uncertain look on his face. And then he'd immediately begun apologizing profusely to Po, hurriedly checking him for any injuries as he begged for forgiveness and claimed he 'didn't know what came over him'.

 

Needless to say, those members of the Five who witnessed this little debacle—Tigress, Monkey, and Mantis, unfortunately—were all set to believe this was a clear sign the feline was reverting to his old tricks, that he was like a firework rocket kept too near an open flame, and if he were allowed to stay at the Jade Palace, Tai Lung would eventually launch into another berserk rampage.

 

Or at least, Monkey thought this; Mantis simply grumbled about having to be up at all hours of the night mixing up medicines for those who happened to fall under Tai Lung's sights at the wrong time, while Tigress, surprisingly, looked not only distrustful of the leopard but openly hurt and frustrated.

 

But Shifu had an inkling what was going on—he'd always known of the cat's explosive, volcanic temper, and ever since their battle in the Hall of Warriors and the revelation that Tai Lung could channel his _chi_ into fire, the red panda had suspected his son would need special training…not only to harness this power, but to redirect it so as to finally get a handle on his hair-trigger fury.

 

What had set him off this time wasn't exactly clear—except, perhaps, the fact Po had evaded everything thrown at him no matter how hard Tai Lung tried to trip him up, perhaps reminding him too closely of their humiliating encounter in the village square. But in any event, Shifu had known at once that the only way to prevent a recurrence was to teach Tai Lung what he had promised.

 

For if the feline could control his anger, consume it in the literal fire of his _chi,_ he would have both a potent weapon against his adversaries and a certain means to retain a cool head and unflappable calm during combat. And then the chance of him descending into an insane bloodlust again, particularly one that could harm his comrades and those he cared for, would be next to nothing.

 

Which was why, after allowing Po to recover and Tai Lung to meditate until sunset on what had taken place, Shifu had decreed that he was leaving Viper in charge of the Jade Palace while he, the Dragon Warrior, and the ex-convict made the half a day's journey to Wu Dan Mountain. For what better place to achieve one's spiritual center, to gain mastery of _chi_ and finally rise above the suffering and conflict of life into a state of enlightenment, than at the birthplace of kung fu?

 

Besides, after what Tai Lung had done to the poor panda, making him scale the heights of the cliffs carrying such an overstuffed backpack was only the beginning of a proper punishment.

 

In any event, with the Wu Sisters still out there, Shifu felt safer having Po where he could keep an eye on him, just in case. Having the one who had been the target of the snow leopard's wrath here with him as he learned his next lesson would also reinforce the bonds of friendship that had been forged and hasten his son's understanding. And with what he'd learned about the panda's birth year from Mr. Ping, there was a certain symmetry in having Po and Tai Lung train together on this…

 

By the time the sun had fully risen, and the entirety of the river gorge and the mountains looming over the valley were bathed in such brilliant hues of orange, gold, and lemon that only an eternal pessimist could fail to be inspired by their beauty to find his center, the party of three had at least reached the summit. Poised upon a rocky promontory, as still as the surrounding boulders and as fresh with energy as if he performed this hike every day, Shifu gazed down at the grassy, windswept shelf of rock that protruded from Wu Dan's northern face, where even from his vantage point and at this distance, he could see the peaceful, undisturbed waters of the Pool of Sacred Tears, as well as the eroded, menhir-like monolith where Oogway had first practiced kung fu, and he in turn had called Po to join him in the same honor-bound tradition.

 

His students approached on either side, the panda still gasping and staggering despite being in better shape than he was the first time he made this trip—perhaps, to be fair, due to the thinner air at this high elevation. Tai Lung, of course, showed no signs of being winded at all and if anything looked…pensive and humble. Shifu thought he knew why.

 

The snow leopard had rarely been brought to Wu Dan, since (most likely erroneously, he could see with hindsight) the red panda had always viewed the study of kung fu as one of rigid discipline, repetitive exercises, and endurance gained through physically taxing and demanding (some would call it torturous) lessons to master. And all of these aspects were ones he believed best suited to, perhaps even limited to, the kwoon rather than the natural world—in other words, a place where he could control everything as he saw fit.

 

Then, too, the Sacred Pool of Tears was typically reserved for the most spiritual and introspective of training, the sort of thing Oogway was wont to teach—what Tai Lung had rarely displayed interest in while growing up at the palace, which he had certainly washed his paws of once he was denied the Dragon Scroll. In retrospect, he should probably have received more such intense, personal training as a boy…now, though, with him no longer blinded by the title of Dragon Warrior, his reconciliation with the turtle's ghost, and the need to gain control of his temper and _chi_ to combat the threats to the Valley, the snow leopard just might be able to achieve what he sought here.

 

Certainly Tai Lung would view this blessed place with much more reverence and honor than he had in the latter years of his training, when he had sneered at meditation, philosophy, and anything else he felt made him weak and blocked his path to the scroll. He might not now feel worthy of it, but if anyone besides Po was, it was his son. All he needed was a reminder of what kung fu truly meant…and with the panda as an example for him, living and breathing 'excellence of self', coupled with the snow leopard's dedication to and knowledge of the skills…

 

The silence was suddenly broken as Po at last looked up from where he was bent over, paws planted on his knees. "Okay…so. This is the birthplace of kung fu, I got that part the last time I was here. But why do I gotta come here _again_? Didn't I learn enough last time? Couldn't we've done this, I dunno, somewhere down in the Valley? Or in the gardens, like Tai and I were doin'? 'Cause I gotta tell ya…that hike's killin' me."

 

The panda blew air out of his cheeks, then rose to his full height and glanced back the way they'd come, across the vast, forested expanse to the mountain where the golden roof and crimson timbers of the Jade Palace were clearly visible. His paws twiddled and wrung nervously. "And I really don't know if it's such a good idea, leavin' the Valley when we know all those bad guys are out there. Not that I don't believe in th' Five, y'know, but…what if somethin' happens?"

 

At any other time, Shifu would have found it admirable that the panda was so selflessly concerned for the innocent citizens of the village, as well as his fellow kung fu masters, and would have commended him for it. But now, he could only sigh and gently shake his head. "It is not that I did not teach you fully, panda, nor that I am deliberately attempting to punish you. There is something special about this peak, Po, an extreme saturation in life energy. It is why Oogway communed here so often, and how he was able to unravel the secrets of harmony and balance, how to develop the body into a honed weapon and supply it with a spirit, mind, and heart to properly guide and strengthen it.

 

"I chose to train you two here because I wish to tap into this sacred and unusual power. We will need all the help we can get if we expect you to master advanced _chi_ techniques, especially in such a short time. Here on Wu Dan, it will be much easier for you to concentrate, to feel the flow of your _chi_ , to draw upon the life all around you. It will also be quieter and easier to focus.

 

"As for the Five, Dragon Warrior," the red panda added, partly with aspersion and partly with rueful affection (for how could he truly be angry at Po for his gentle nature and big-hearted ways?), "they will be perfectly safe. Tigress has nearly fully recovered, and she will have the cleverness, insight, and calm of both Viper and Crane to assist her." _At least, Crane is usually the intelligent and logical one. I don't know what's gotten into him lately! Into any of them, really…this goes far beyond simple personality clashes or lingering resentment of Tai Lung. Something is wrong, but what?_

 

"Not to mention Mei Ling," the snow leopard drawled casually, although his tone wasn't fooling anyone, least of all his father. "Besides, d'you really want to run the risk of me hurling fireballs around in the Valley, where I’d have so many tempting targets? Like, I don't know, Master Monkey? That arrogant bully Chang? Or perhaps the lovely Xiulan?" He drummed his fingers on his spotted arms significantly.

 

Po winced. "Uh…good point." Groaning under his breath, the panda turned and gazed across the distance to the plateau where the crystal-blue spring waited at the top of the winding ledge. "All right…let's get it over with then…"

 

When the Dragon Warrior had recovered his breath and pronounced himself fit to continue, Shifu led the way up the craggy, sloping cliffs until at last, after circling the entirety of the bowl cupped between the insurmountable mountains, they crossed the final rocky bridge and arrived at the same broad plain at the edge of the forest where he and Po had made their camp, what was only a little over two months but now seemed a lifetime ago.

 

There, once Tai Lung proved he had not forgotten how to survive in the wilderness by erecting their tents, laying out their sleeping pallets and clothing to protect against the chill mountain night, and digging a fire pit over which to cook their meager but wholesome meals, the red panda led his two diametrically opposed yet still fittingly matched students to the shore of the Pool of Sacred Tears. Under his direction, each of them adopted the lotus position, and with eyes closed, paws resting loose and relaxed on their knees, and not a word spoken, they both did their level best to enter a tranquil, detached state—receptive to hearing his words.

 

Of course he knew Po would soon be restlessly squirming and wondering aloud when it would be lunchtime, while Tai Lung would likely be heaving high, dramatic sighs, scoffing openly, and sardonically questioning the wisdom and purpose of the entire venture. But hopefully, before they reached that point, he would reach them.

 

Quietly, in an even, measured tone, Shifu began to speak. "Tai Lung: as you are well aware, your element is Fire. It is the element of life; it brings heat and power; without it, the sun would not burn and we could not survive. It can destroy, consume, ravage, just as you did twenty years ago; but it can also create, for where it turns all to ash, this also makes the land fertile so it can produce life once again, and it can refine and purify, as when metal-forgers use it to shape iron and cleanse silver. It is all in how you wield and direct it. And it is tied to your emotions.

 

"If you can pour them into your _chi_ , allow it to engulf and incinerate your rage, your hatred, your bloodthirsty love of battle, then these things will no longer affect you…you can step beyond and around them, remain calm and cautious, guiding your passions rather than being driven by them. Where once you would have recklessly and cruelly slaughtered, instead you will remain untouched by your enemy's attempts to anger and provoke you. Your temper will be tamed, and you will be left with a formidable weapon indeed—one which can cleanse and make way for goodwill to supplant evil, one which comes from deep within you."

 

He paused, allowing this last statement to sink in, making it quite clear to the snow leopard that his master was well aware of the lessons Tai Lung had been giving Po regarding depending on the self before any outside weapon. Then, as he listened to his son's ragged breaths rasping in his throat as the true import of what he had spoken penetrated his understanding, Shifu moved on to Po without turning his head or even opening his eyes.

 

"Dragon Warrior…whether by fate or chance, your element is Water, the opposite of Tai Lung's. Which means rather than channeling your _chi_ by running roughshod over it, forcing it into patterns and molds it is not used to occupying so you may then wield and control it, you must instead give into it. Forgive the choice of words, but you must…how would you say it?…'go with the flow'. Water is the element of change. While the others may take different forms, it is the only one which moves, rearranges itself, and has a constant cycle as part of its nature. It can be frozen, or it can dissipate into the very air; it too purifies, but it can also become tainted and poisoned. Like water, you must be willing to change, as well as accept all sides and aspects of yourself, for you can never know before the fact which you will need to prevail.

 

"You have already shown you know how to adapt, to think in innovative manners, to become more than the sum of your parts, and you taught me the same when I understood how to train you. But now you must go deeper…find the well at the heart of your being, and plumb it. Release what is kept within you, and allow it to course throughout your body. Unlike Tai Lung, who must refrain from dwelling on his emotions, you must _feel_ them, more intensely and truly than you ever have before. Let them guide your thoughts and actions, and you too will be capable of things you have not yet imagined."

 

Opening his eyes at last, but only turning his head the barest fraction needed to observe his students through his peripheral vision, the red panda saw almost an identical expression on both faces: one of puzzlement, frustration, and discontent…gradually turning to awed realization. When he saw this, he smiled; that was the first step, not merely to grasping the nature of the _chi_ and the lessons through which they would control it, but simply recognizing their own affinity.

 

Accepting that this was who they were, what they stood for, how they interacted with the world. That the snow leopard had ended up in the place that he had because he was endlessly driven by a need to conquer, to claim, to control—because he had such a passion for life, for knowing, for making a mark and acting on his courage.

 

That the reason Po had always felt so limited and depressed, aching and yearning for something beyond his father's noodle shop, wishing more than anything to have the freedom to be what he wished, to be himself and study the kung fu he loved, was because like his element, he could not stand being contained for long—he had to be set loose, allowed to rush and churn, ebb and flow, wash across the Valley and leave it and the lives of everyone in it forever changed by his touch, as he himself would never be the same thanks to achieving his destiny.

_They have much still to learn. But knowing and accepting that is half the battle. From here on out, it will be both fiendishly difficult…and gratifyingly easy._ Nodding to himself, he clapped his tiny hands together once, making both of the warriors flinch. "That, then, is the theory behind the journey we are about to undertake. Spend as much time as you need centering yourself, and when you are ready, we'll start applying this in actual combat."

 

"About time," Tai Lung muttered in annoyance.

 

"If you say so," Po also muttered, dubiously.

 

Shifu closed his eyes and gently shook his head. _The learning curve will be steep, I see. Well, they cannot say I didn't warn them…_

                                                                      

* * *

 

However, it seemed he had once again underestimated Po—something he had sworn not to do again after witnessing his acrobatics in the kitchen but which he habitually fell into—as well as forgotten how truly talented Tai Lung was at mastering anything kung fu-related. Granted, this was not in the same skill set as anything they had learned before, and required a complete rethinking of their focus and direction.

 

And neither of them was exactly adept at it from the beginning—the snow leopard in particular became increasingly frustrated and furious with himself, for while of course it proved terrifyingly easy to summon up his anger and hatred, it was painfully hard to redirect it into his Fire…and even when he succeeded, the flames then turned out to be incredibly perverse and resistant, almost with a will of their own.

 

So when Tai Lung wasn't exploding in violent roars that echoed off the cliffs and slopes of Wu Dan, he was gasping in pain as he lost control of the fire and it singed his palmpads, leaving them smoking. This had befuddled a quietly watching, won ton-munching Po, since he had expected what Tai Lung did once before would come easily to him. But Shifu knew better: during their fight in the Sacred Hall of Warriors, his son had been possessed by his rage, and all he had done, especially his usage of fire, had been by pure instinct. To call on such an ability again outside of battle, when he was free of insanity and passion, when he had to think about it instead of doing what _felt_ right, was a very different and difficult matter entirely.

 

Similarly, although the Dragon Warrior had been learning to redirect his _chi_ and make it flow throughout his body as Tai Lung trained him in the nerve strike—something which was essential to controlling Water—Po also wasn't used to being so assertive and dominating. All his life he had been a humble noodle chef, used to waiting on customers, washing and drying dishes, and quietly following his father's orders; in other words, knowing his place and never stepping outside those bounds, no matter how his dreams urged him to. So to make decisions, issue commands, pursue an aggressive attack, act quickly and without thinking—these were all outside his realm of experience.

 

Telling the water what to do, let alone directing it through his kung fu, met with laughable failure more often than not…if he even got the water to behave at all, it usually escaped his control the moment his attention wandered. Which, naturally, usually happened whenever the coiling rope or sphere of water was directly above Shifu's head, or the panda's own. And as regular as clockwork, this inevitably led to Tai Lung laughing uproariously, clutching his sides and leaning against trees or boulders as he took in the sight of the two bears standing there, drenched to the skin and glaring flatly at the snow leopard.

 

Ironically, this ended up leading to Po's breakthrough…for after one long look at the giggling snow leopard, the panda threw all of his will into his _chi_ —and instantly, a ball of water the size of his belly heaved itself up out of the Pool of Sacred Tears and flung itself through the air. The laughter ceased abruptly, only to begin again from the Dragon Warrior's direction as he took in the sight of a stunned, dripping, utterly soaked Tai Lung.

 

From then on, Shifu was able to produce increasingly amazing and reassuring results simply by giving Po something to focus on—not Tai Lung, since doing so would only infuriate him more and completely defeat the purpose of training him in Fire, but on the very threats facing the Valley. And by focusing his growing righteous anger toward the disgusting killer, and the image of the hated Wu Sisters in his mind, the panda was able to hit these imaginary targets with unerring accuracy—flat, shimmering planes, rippling orbs, sharp spears of clear liquid, they all obeyed his commands implicitly. He even succeeded in redirecting the flow of an entire waterfall once; only a small one, of course, and only for the time needed to spray outward and strike the sticks and stones Shifu had hurled in the air for him to aim at. But still…it was encouraging indeed.

 

As for his son, after yet another failed attempt to channel Fire had left one palm severely burned and the other merely seared, the red panda had sat with him, offering silent commiseration as he applied a healing salve of Mantis's to the blisters and reddened flesh. "It's all right, Tai Lung," he soothed. "These things take time. You can't expect to master it in one day."

 

"Why the hell not?" the spotted feline snarled, his voice somewhat muffled as he tied off the bandages around his other paw, using his teeth to tug the knot into place. "Isn't that what I do? Isn't that what I've _always_ done?"

 

"This is not like mastering the thousand scrolls," Shifu explained, doing his level best to remain patient and calm. "It's not the same at all. There, you were memorizing the steps and stances, training your body to remember them so it became second nature. You were studying a static set of teachings—learning to apply them through your own creative innovations, yes, but still they were what they were. They could not be changed, and could only follow the dictates of the human body.

 

"Channeling your _chi_ has more to do with feeling the pulse of life and becoming one with it, reaching out into the world around you and bending it to your will; you are not dealing with something that only uses muscle and bone, but something outside of yourself, with a will of its own. At the same time, you _are_ dealing more with yourself than you ever have before—with your soul, your spirit, your inner nature. And these are things which are even less easy to manipulate than an element."

 

"It's not fair!" Tai Lung sounded far too petulant for Shifu's liking, but also despairing. "We don't have time for this, I have to learn this if I'm going to be of any use when we fight our enemies. Don't you understand, Master?" He held out his paws imploringly, clenched them as best he could around their wrappings. "I'm finally getting everything I ever wanted. I have you back. I know now that Oogway did love me and believed in me. I have friends, companions, people who believe in me, people to protect, people to l—"

 

He cut himself off. "But I'm still so damn _angry_ all the time. That's why I lost it with Po yesterday. And if I can't learn to control this…I won't just be useless, I'll be a danger to you." He shook his head. "Was I _ever_ this bad as a teenager?"

 

Shifu, who had begun to soften his expression, snorted derisively at this. "Please don't remind me."

 

He was at a loss himself, though, to explain this sudden resurgence in his son's temper, but before he could attempt it or offer further reassurance, the Dragon Warrior walked over from the campfire where he'd been scooping up lunch for them. He handed a bowl to Shifu, took one look at Tai Lung's bandaged paws, and then thoughtfully held the second bowl while carefully feeding the snow leopard dumplings from it. The feline, of course, looked extremely sullen and ashamed at having to be catered to in this fashion, but with his paws still in pain and barely able to bend let alone hold chopsticks, he really had no choice.

 

As Po lifted another dumpling up, he proved however that he'd heard the last of what they'd been saying. "I know fire isn't like water," he observed, "but maybe your problem's that ya don't have anythin' t' really focus it on, y'know? For the longest time, ya had nothin' t' think about but the fact ya got denied the Dragon Scroll. Now ya don't have that anymore, so your anger got…scattered. Ya gotta pull it back together, aim it _at_ somethin', before ya can channel it down an' burn it up in the fire. See what I'm sayin'?"

 

Shifu paused—then swallowed whatever he was going to say along with his own dumpling. "The fat one has a point," he deadpanned. "I may have been going about this the wrong way. It would not be the first time. As soon as you're done eating, let's try Po's method, see if you have any better success."

 

So when the food was consumed and the Dragon Warrior was occupied with washing and stowing away the dishes and cooking pot, Tai Lung and Shifu retired to the corner of the field where they had been practicing—as evidenced by the prominent scorch marks on the trees and the enormous burn marking one end of the grassy expanse. "All right, Tai Lung," Shifu intoned, pressing his hands together. "We're going to do this the easy way. I want you to think of something that makes you mad."

 

"D'you want the short list or the long?" the snow leopard drawled. "Let's see, there's the panda, you, Tigress, Monkey, Vachir…"

 

The red panda narrowed his eyes—something in the harsh, biting way he'd uttered the rhino's name seemed significantly different from the others he named. What _was_ his son hiding about his time at Chorh-Gom? While fairly hellish, it was still only a prison…and for all that Vachir had good reason to hate Tai Lung, he was also an honorable man. Surely there was nothing he could have done to the snow leopard that was truly that terrible…

 

"That's not what I meant," Shifu interrupted. "Something deeper, more visceral than petty annoyances and grievances. Something which truly angers you, something besides our enemies or the Dragon Scroll."

 

Tai Lung paused, leaning back on one foot and with both paws doing his best approximation of Tiger Fists…and then something dark, painful, and decidedly disturbing entered his golden eyes, twisting his face into something more ominous and upsetting than he'd seen since their fight in the Hall of Warriors. "I know exactly what you mean, Shifu. Got something in mind already."

 

Warily, Shifu nodded, also adopting the same stance. "Very well then. Come at me with all you have, and let's see if you can—"

 

Without warning, the snow leopard lunged—and though he couldn't use his paws directly, he made up for it by striking just as hard with the wrists, elbows, and forearms as well as, of course, the powerful blows of his feet. Caught by surprise, and unable to withstand the sudden onslaught of attacks, Shifu fell back—literally hurled up in the air or tossed across the grass by some of the more bone-cracking strikes. Each time Tai Lung hit him, he heard the cat's growl lower another notch, become all the more menacing and terrifying, and the air around them became more blistering hot than even the summer's day could account for. "Tai Lung! What—what are you—why—"

 

"What's the matter, Shifu? Isn't this what you wanted?" Another roundhouse that Shifu barely ducked, and the whizzing foot still struck his shoulder and sent him flying sideways. "Aren't I angry enough for you? I don't know about you, but I feel downright _pissed off_!"

 

"Obviously," the red panda retorted. "But why? What has you so riled up?"

 

Tai Lung stabbed a thumb at his chest. "Hmm, let me think. I'm nearly forty years old, I've lived my whole life in the Valley of Peace with you and Oogway for company—except when I was in prison, of course—and d'you know what? I _still_ don't know who my real family is, where they are, what happened to them, why they abandoned me at birth. And _damnit_ , I have a right to know!"

_Is **that** what this is all about? _Shifu marveled. _But why now? Why, after all this time, is he fixated on that again? I thought he'd put it behind him._ Not that it was the sort of thing a person could get over or forget very easily, even in the best of circumstances, and being teased mercilessly for being an orphan for much of his youth hadn't helped any. But it had been years since he'd heard such bitter, whining complaints from the snow leopard…

 

Brushing the matter aside, he snapped, "I don't know why you're bringing that up now, you know there's nothing more I can tell you—"

 

"Is there? Are you _sure_?"

 

"Yes!" Now Shifu was the testy one. "But this is good—take this anger, _use_ it, my son! Push it deep down inside you, down into your stomach…can you feel it?"

 

Something once again twisted Tai Lung's face, this time with an obscure pain, as if his guts were literally turning themselves inside out…sweat burst out over his body, soaking his fur, and he stumbled to a halt, bringing his paws up instinctively in a defensive stance. His fists clenched, and he hissed in pain. "Y-yes," he stammered, gritting his teeth. "I…do."

 

Shifu slid to a stop as well, eyeing him closely—to make sure it wasn't a trick, out of concern that his son was all right, and to gauge his progress. Something…shimmered, a faint ripple of blue energy that coursed down over Tai Lung's body, making his fur stand on end and then lay flat. The heat in the air intensified. "Focus…focus…don't let the anger control you, Tai Lung. Master it. Fuel the fire. I know you can do this."

 

Something was gathering in the air, in front of and to the side of the snow leopard. Shifu sidestepped to avoid it, watching closely. The heat was drawing together, gaining substance and power, taking oxygen from the air in order to burn…and as the flames began to flicker and become visible, Tai Lung slowly rose upright again, his expression clearing.

 

It was startling, almost worrying, how quickly the fires of resentment left his eyes and instead poured into the fireball forming above the field…how his jaw relaxed, his face went slack, and his claws retracted back in their sheaths. He looked—serene. At peace. Calm, and unsurprisingly confused.

 

The fireball grew larger, roiling, churning, surging now and then with prominences of flame as if it were a miniature sun, but otherwise remained perfectly tame and under control where it hung. Shifu watched this, both awed and pleased, and finally relaxed, beginning to applaud slowly. "Tai Lung…you did it. Look at that! Now tell me: how do you feel? Where did your anger go? Are you walled off from it?"

 

"It's there…in the fire." The snow leopard sounded stunned, and more relieved than he'd ever heard him. "I can still feel it…I'm not just empty of emotion, thank the gods…but it's _outside_ me. I can manage it now…it isn't in charge of me anymore." There was something very definitive, determined, and fierce about those last words that made Shifu's heart swell.

 

Not that he believed this meant Tai Lung had fully conquered his rage, or dealt with whatever lingering fury he felt at not knowing his parentage; not by a long shot. But it was a beginning; a very good step in the right direction…and with further training…

 

"Very good, Tai Lung," he said at last, bowing in proper kung fu fashion to the snow leopard. " _Now_ you are learning a different lesson." _If only I'd taught it to you sooner…instead of twenty years too late_.

 

A long pause answered him, and then a warm, rather soft smile curled up the corners of his son's lips. With an artful gesture of one paw, he sent the fireball wafting across the grassy plain to the river, where it plunged downward into the water and was doused in a large cloud of steam. He then bowed deeply in return. "Thank you…Father."

                                                                      

* * *

 

Several days later, after both Po and Tai Lung had made incredible progress in their _chi_ training, Shifu called a much-deserved and needed halt, instead sitting down with them to eat a very filling and companionable dinner of stir-fried vegetables, noodles in Sichuan sauce, and of course—dumplings. He could not possibly put into words how good it felt, not only to have this respite from all the dour faces and upsetting gloom that had settled over the palace since the siege began, but from the harsh, disciplinarian attitude that had always prevailed there by his own paw.

 

After being far too lenient with Tai Lung, spoiling him and giving him far too much leeway in his training, he had retreated, deciding that his deep and intense love had been the problem—that he could not afford to love that strongly again, or at least that he could not show it. In the process, of course, he had gone too far in the other direction, and the end result was having a bitter daughter who gave her entire life to kung fu to the point she didn't even seem to have any hobbies, talents, or interests…like the snow leopard, she too had only wanted his pride and love. He had shown this to Tai Lung at a young age, only to cease when he grew older and seemed to outgrow such tender affection…but he had not shown it to Tigress at all, something he now deeply regretted.

 

Po's coming to the Jade Palace had changed everything, helped him to realize what a stubborn, crusty, moribund old curmudgeon he'd become. How he had driven away any ounce of caring and devotion from his life, sealing his heart away so it wouldn't be hurt again as it had been by Tai Lung's betrayal and loss. How this had made the palace such a lonely, hollow place that it was a wonder people like Mantis and Viper could ever find it habitable, let alone retain their sense of humor and kindness, respectively. Shifu was learning to loosen up, to relax and allow himself to feel again…and now the same thing was happening with Tai Lung.

 

It all started when the panda told an over-the-top and obviously wildly embellished tale of a wolven thief from Zhejiang province who was also a lousy tipper, something Shifu had the feeling Po had told many times before, each more grandiose and ridiculous than the last. Once the laughter had died down over the panda's daring comments only being in his mind, the snow leopard had reached across the flat stone they were using as a table to pat Po reassuringly on the paw.

 

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, panda," he said a trifle smugly. "Because now that I know what he looks like, I have his number. If I _ever_ run into him, I'll break his arm in three places, smash his kneecap, and crush what makes him a man. He won't be causing trouble again, believe you me."

 

"Oh...uh...thanks." For some inexplicable reason, Po didn't look pleased.

 

"Anytime." Tai Lung munched on a dumpling, by contrast looking quite satisfied with himself.

 

Feeling feisty, contrary, and just a tad disapproving since he would never stoop to such random acts of violence, let alone brag about them (even if the fellow did deserve it), Shifu pointed a chopstick at the snow leopard. "Be careful what you say, son, or I might just tell Po about the time I took you into a candy store when you were five."

 

Tai Lung looked openly horrified and tried to none-too-subtly indicate the red panda should desist by waving his arms wildly behind Po's back, but the Dragon Warrior was grinning widely and leaning forward on his elbows. So with a wicked smirk, Shifu launched at once into the story.

 

"Picture, if you will, a darling little tyke just about the same size as I am, but with three times the strength. So there he is, yanking on my sleeve, almost knocking me over and pulling me onto the floor, staring up at me with those enormous eyes no one could ever resist."

 

Po snickered, then flicked his eyes aside to the snow leopard. "So he liked sweets even then, huh? But I bet you had a heart of stone, didn't ya?"

 

Shifu chewed another dumpling thoughtfully, then adopted a stern glower. "I certainly did. A future kung fu warrior, begging for food like a common street urchin! What would the Valley say, or the Emperor, if they knew? No, of course I had to put my foot down." He paused, then allowed his mouth to twitch slightly. "That day, at any rate. Other times…I simply had to give in. He wouldn't shut up, you know."

 

"No, he didn't!"

 

The red panda winked. "Let me see, how did it go…'Baba, I wanna sugar date! Baba, I wanna that cookie! Baba, I wanna ride horsey!'" When Po gave him an odd look, he added, "The clerk was a horse." The Dragon Warrior collapsed on the boulder, laughing uncontrollably.

 

"All right, that's it!" Tai Lung slammed his mug down on the rock, thrusting himself forward to stab a finger at his father. "Just for that one, I'm going to tell Po _all_ about the time that foppish idiot from the Imperial City came to the palace to make a report on your teaching methods to the Emperor…"

 

Now it was Shifu's turn to stiffen. "You tell him about that, and so help me…you're _not_ too old for me to paddle, you know."

 

"You wish," the snow leopard snorted with a smirk. "Now let me see, I was what, nine or ten I think…one of the last things I did for the joy of it, before I started training in earnest for the Dragon Scroll. What all did I do, now…"

 

Po listened raptly, of course, as Tai Lung related every terrible way in which he had misbehaved, acted out, or otherwise made Shifu's training out to be a laughingstock, ranging from very seriously and soberly explaining how the red panda smacked him around every day ("with stone blocks"), to feigning awful injuries in the kwoon (which he claimed had been created solely by Shifu, without any demands and orders from him at all), to running around the palace gleefully clutching one of the thousand scrolls to his chest and then telling the functionary tearfully that he was so happy because this was the first time he'd gotten a gift since he was five.

 

By the time the snow leopard had described with relish how he had arranged a practical joke for the snooty panther involving the door of his room, a rope and pulley system, and a bucket of wash water from the laundress's, the Dragon Warrior was in stitches and Shifu could swear his face had turned the color of a pomegranate.

 

"Serves the old fogey right!" Po gasped at last, when Tai Lung told how he'd hightailed it back to the capital in the middle of the night with a huffy flight down the steps and a shouted demand that the Jade Palace owed him a new set of court robes.

 

"Indeed." Tai Lung raised his eyes heavenward and clasped his paws behind his head. "Of course, the best part was, when Master Shifu went to investigate the idiot's claims, I had somehow neglected to remove my little prank…"

 

"Oh _no_!"

 

"Oh yes."

 

"I'm glad you find this so amusing, my student," Shifu snapped. "I seem to recall you being _very_ severely punished after that little episode."

 

"That's funny. From what I remember, Master Oogway didn't seem to have a problem with it. In fact he said it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen and he hadn't laughed so hard in years."

 

"Yes…well, his sense of humor was always rather strange."

 

"So _now_ you finally admit he was more than a bit daft?" Even as he said this, Tai Lung abruptly reached out with his chopstick to snag another dumpling—from Shifu's bowl.

 

The red panda blinked…staring down first at his bowl, then narrowing his eyes and watching his son calculatingly. The snow leopard raised an eyebrow in artful innocence, as if to say 'What? You didn't see anything'—an expression that had _never_ worked on Shifu—even as he chewed and swallowed the fist-sized morsel. Deliberately, with a superior air, Shifu reached across and skewered a dumpling of his own from Tai Lung's bowl.

 

A pause…and then the feline grabbed another. So did Shifu.

 

For several minutes they kept up this exchange, each eyeing the other with flaring nostrils and curled upper lips as if the thievery of dumplings was the most heinous breach of etiquette imaginable. Then, just as one or the other was on the verge of dissolving into laughter, both father and son reached down with their chopsticks—to stab into empty ceramic.

 

Startled, since their bowls had been full to start with and they knew they hadn't been stealing from each other for that long, panda and snow leopard slowly turned and looked at the only other possible culprit. Po's bowl was still full—as the cook, he had of course served himself the largest helping—but so were his cheeks. He chewed, tried to swallow, and grinned sheepishly at them as he mumbled a reply. "What? You guys were doing it."

 

Tai Lung and Shifu exchanged another long, wordless look, one that spoke volumes: _He's going down_.

 

Both of them leaped for Po in the same moment, chopsticks lunging for the bowl—but the panda snatched it up at the last second and danced out of reach, so that the cat and his father practically slammed headfirst into each other. As Shifu tried to blink the stars out of his eyes, the Dragon Warrior finally swallowed his stolen booty and smirked at them. "Ah, ah, ah! Ya didn't say 'Panda, may I'!"

 

He was still laughing when Tai Lung ducked under his arms, caught the rim of the bowl with the tips of his chopsticks, and sent it flying ten feet above their heads, the dumplings gleaming almost like gold in the sunlight. "Hey!"

 

"He who gloats, loses the upper paw," the snow leopard snickered. But as he in turn pushed off with one foot from their boulder table, reaching out to full extension to claim his prize, something very small and exceedingly fast zipped up his spotted back, sprang onto his head, and deftly snatched the bowl out of the air.

 

Shifu smiled down at him, even more smug than when he'd played this game with Po, and as he somersaulted neatly to the side, artfully keeping the bowl upright so it lost none of its contents, he called back, "Follow your own advice, sonny-boy!"

 

And so it went. Back and forth across the clearing the three of them wove, darted, dodged, and flipped, and for a wonder, Tai Lung didn't seem angry, or even to contemplate making the competition ugly by employing fists and feet in his most savage and violent attacks. Instead he was grinning and laughing as much as the other two, and whenever he missed an opportunity or had one taken away from him, the most he did was grumble, or perhaps curse softly to himself. He truly was learning; he _had_ changed.

 

As Po tried to hide behind a tree (and failed miserably, his white-furred paunch sticking out from the side and easily giving him away), he leaned back to beam at Shifu. "Man, this brings back good memories! Right, Master?"

 

"What is he babbling about?" the snow leopard asked as he leaped in for the 'kill', only to have the red panda beat him to it by grabbing the bowl away again. "Have you two done this before?"

 

So as he did his level best to keep the prize away from his best student by scampering into the upper branches of the tree—forgetting that leopards were far too suited to scaling such heights—Shifu explained how he had trained Po here at Wu Dan, and precisely how the crash course had ended. Even as he was intent on reaching the highest limbs, Tai Lung was listening closely, and by the time he was only a few feet away from the red panda, a very different look was on his face. Crafty, cunning…but also a bit put out.

 

"Well now, that hardly seems fair, does it? Both of you have a distinct advantage on this one." The snow leopard paused, and then he chuckled as he reached out with his chopsticks, catching Shifu's trailing foot—just as Po had, damn it all!—and yanking his master back so that the bowl of dumplings toppled toward the ground. "Good thing I'm a fast learner, eh?"

 

With that, he released Shifu and leaped straight down after the bowl. But just before he could get his paws on it, the Dragon Warrior sailed in from the side after springing off another limb lower down—how had he gotten up there, with all that bulk, without anyone seeing it? "Hah-hah! You snooze, you lose, big guy!"

 

"As if!" Continuing his descent back to the ground, Tai Lung snatched hold of Shifu's staff where it had been leaning against the boulder, and with practiced ease whirled it about, sending the other end smacking with stunning (but not bruising) force into Po—catching him in the side, the shoulder, the rump. The panda, crying out in mingled annoyance and pain, wasn't prepared when his adversary rotated the bamboo around, bringing it about under the bowl and then flipping it upwards.

 

One more jab with the staff back into Po's belly, and then the feline had caught the pottery before it hit the ground, then leaped with incredible speed and reflexes to catch each of the dumplings in the bowl.

 

However, even as he was congratulating himself, Shifu, who had landed adroitly and with barely a whisper to disturb the grass several feet behind him, slipped under his son's plane of vision and snatched the staff out of his paw. " _What_ did I tell you about touching my things without permission, young man?" Inverting the stick, he gave the bowl a healthy whack to send it skittering sideways, and once again the race was on.

 

None of them had any idea how long their impromptu battle lasted, or the number of times the bowl changed paws. But gradually, as time passed, the dumplings within the bowl slowly reduced in number as each of them managed to obtain a souvenir of victory before one of the others got it away from them again. And as the supply dwindled, the fight of course intensified.

 

Eventually, at a moment when Shifu had narrowly evaded Po's paw to once more leap nimbly across the clearing, landing with an almost delicate touch to perch on the tip of his upright staff, the Dragon Warrior threw his chopsticks at the old master in what seemed a fit of desperation.

 

But the slender lengths of wood had actually been carefully aimed, stabbing right through the sleeves of Shifu's robe and carrying him backwards with the force with which they'd been thrown—and abruptly, the red panda found himself pinned to the tree, dangling from the chopsticks. _Damn. He's good. Too good._

 

" _I'll_ take that," Tai Lung said as he snatched the bowl from Shifu's hands, taking advantage while Po turned back to the table for another set of chopsticks.

 

As the snow leopard ran the other direction and began wolfing down as many dumplings as he could, Shifu considered his options. After only a moment he began wriggling and squirming on the tree trunk, working his way down out of his robe so he could drop freely to the ground. Unfortunately, Po saw what he was doing and made a faint gagging sound. "Ewww! Gross!"

_Well really!_ It wasn't as if he were naked under this robe, and he did in fact used to be quite the looker in his day… _And if I can actually think that, it proves I'm too old to think it_.

 

Luckily, perhaps, for everyone involved, Tai Lung seemed to be of the same opinion, for when he turned back and also saw what Shifu was doing, he quickly hurled his own chopsticks. And, with exactly the same accuracy and power, they speared into the legs of Shifu's trousers, effectively making him a rather pathetic scarecrow on the tree trunk.

 

"Nice one, Tai," Po chuckled.

 

"Not so bad yourself, panda," the snow leopard said with an artful bow.

 

Grumbling as he was so summarily taken out of the fight, the red panda watched as the two remaining combatants grinned, congratulating each other on having dealt with their old master so readily—and then, as the new state of affairs settled in, narrowed their eyes and leaped back into the fray with their bare paws and feet.

 

Somehow, though, Shifu couldn't be disappointed, except in one thing: as he witnessed the former enemies battling it out for one dumpling after another, laughing and crying foul and actually _playing_ together, he couldn't help but think, _Damnit, I wish Tigress and the others could see this_.

 

Eventually, of course, after Po had grabbed Tai Lung by the ankles and left him sprawled in the dirt, and the snow leopard had retaliated by bouncing deliberately off his belly so as to snatch the bowl out of the air again, both of them had gone back for spare chopsticks—and then the fight became even more strange, and more, well, awesome.

 

Having worked on his ambidexterity during their nightly lessons, the Dragon Warrior used a pair in each paw to grab the dumplings from the bowl whenever it flew past him in free fall. But Tai Lung had two pairs as well, and soon enough they were having an all-out brawl…their arms becoming blurs of motion, dumplings flying this way and that as each snagged one after another.

 

At times they were literally wrestling with each other, catching arms, necks, and chests in various kung fu moves to hold each other back while the other lunged for a dumpling. Other times they merely outwitted each other, as when Po made a feint in one direction, only to leap up and do a backflip to land behind Tai Lung, there to catch a falling dumpling in his mouth, or when the snow leopard in turn bounded on one paw in a handspring, caught hold of a tree branch with his tail to fling himself still higher, and then scooped three or four dumplings from the sky while the panda was still huffing and puffing to catch up.

 

At the last, after Tai Lung had released a wave of _chi_ from his chopsticks to send the bowl skittering across the rock table, then leapt after it to catch it in the crook of his arm, there was only one dumpling left. And when Po got hold of the bowl again with an impressive tuck-and-roll, fetching up against the table and hurriedly stabbing down with his chopsticks, the snow leopard's were right there to stop him. For several breathless minutes, the two fought with their chopsticks the same way Shifu and Po had, the slender rods flickering, snapping, angling and blocking as a full-sized warrior would be.

 

Then, with a triumphant cry, the Dragon Warrior caught the dumpling tightly between his chopsticks—but as he lifted it to his mouth, one of Tai Lung's paws abruptly came out of nowhere, unsheathing its claw to stab into the dumpling and pull it free. The leopard crammed it into his mouth and chewed reflectively, smugly, as Po stared at him in disbelief.

 

"Hey, that's cheating!"

 

"You bet it is," the ex-convict chuckled darkly. At Po's hurt look, he added, "What, you think the Wu Sisters and that psychotic murderer out there will be fighting fair?"

 

"Well no, but…"

 

"And you cheated several times to defeat me, now didn't you?"

 

"That was different! You were gonna kill people, I had to win any way I could."

 

"Exactly!" Swallowing, Tai Lung crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the panda candidly. "You were doing what had to be done, by any means possible, using the situation and your surroundings to your advantage. We're going to have to do the same thing against the sisters if we expect to win."

 

Po looked distinctly uncomfortable, as well he might. "But…that's not really very honorable, is it? Real kung fu warriors don't fight that way."

 

Tai Lung sighed, looked away for a few moments. "No. No, they don't. This was just a game though, panda. All in fun. And when it comes down to stopping our enemies, well…sometimes the ends do justify the means. If it'll save lives, protect the Valley, then…" He trailed off and shrugged.

 

"Sometimes cheating is a necessary evil. All you have to remember, Po, is to use it as a last resort. To take your opponent by surprise, do the unexpected to win the day…but don't get used to it, don't make it a way of life. Then you'll do just fine."

 

The panda's expression cleared, and he smiled eagerly as he nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I gotcha. I'll try that sometime…thanks."

 

From the tree where he was still pinned, Shifu grumbled loudly. "Very clever, yes, very insightful. Now, could one of you get me down from here, please?"

 

As Tai Lung crossed over to do the honors, though, he seemed unable to go without getting the last word—for he added under his breath, where only his father could hear it, "Well, at least I managed to top the panda in _something_."

 

Shifu didn't know whether to laugh or groan aloud.

                                                                     

* * *

 

In the scroll room of the Jade Palace, where not only the thousand scrolls of kung fu but also tracts on philosophy, science, art, architecture, and any subject one could wish to study were housed—the life's work of Oogway, a gathering of more knowledge than most could read in a single lifetime—Crane lowered the parchment detailing yet another of the terrifying slayings which had now begun to encircle the Valley of Peace, as if surrounding and trapping its residents in its ring of death.

 

Shuddering visibly as he forced himself to disregard the details that were now burned into his mind, the bird instead set the scroll aside and crossed over to the large, beautifully rendered map of the Valley which completely covered one wall of the chamber. There, searching among the watercolor swirls which indicated forests, rivers, and hills and the hanzi that identified roads, isolated homesteads, mills, and bridges, he finally found what he was looking for and pushed another flagged pin into the bamboo board on which the cloth was hung. Then he sighed and hung his head.

 

He was attempting, of course, to try and discern some pattern in the killings—having failed to deduce the murderer's identity, motive, or even reasoning, Crane had finally, in a sense of grasping at straws, hoped that perhaps simply marking where each of the bodies had been found…or the homes of the deceased, if nothing recognizable had been left behind…might provide some sort of clue that could crack this case.

 

Since none of those who had died had anything whatsoever in common, other than all living in the Valley of Peace and all being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he had thought, a bit desperately, that perhaps instead of being of the same occupation, having the same set of friends and acquaintances, or knowing something about their killer, simply plotting out the locales of the murders might reveal something. Sadly, as yet it had not. They all truly seemed to be random.

 

It wasn't as if he had anything else to do, though. With Po gone off with Master Shifu and Tai Lung to Wu Dan Mountain, there were no lessons to give in the kwoon, and somehow he didn't feel like training himself. Tigress was still sulking in her room at not being given a completely free bill of health from Mantis—he knew, of course, that they couldn't chance her throwing herself back into her usual slave-driver routine when she wasn't fully healed, and thus put her back out of commission again when they could least afford it, but she seemed fully recovered to him.

 

Monkey was also in hiding, which all things considered was probably for the best as far as he was concerned; although the simian had finally been coerced into bathing by an 'intervention' of Tigress, Viper, and Mei Ling bodily dragging him to the steaming tub and dunking him in whether he wanted it or not, he was still far too surly, on edge, and constantly simmering like a boiling pot about to explode.

 

Crane understood, of course, that for whatever reason, Monkey still resented and distrusted the snow leopard; that whether it made sense or not, he was convinced Tai Lung was behind the killings, with the bloody messages meant to throw suspicion off of himself, the one person who should have been first on everyone's list since he had been a murderer twenty years before. The avian also knew that having all this slaughter continue unchecked, and knowing that the Wu Sisters were still out there, would upset anyone. But the primate's behavior was still…deeply disturbing.

 

Mei Ling herself, naturally, had been avoiding him ever since the 'incident' in the training hall with Tai Lung…and surely that was also why Viper had been giving him the cold shoulder, and why Shifu had placed her in charge at the palace in his absence, not Crane. Not that he sought a leadership role or even believed himself particularly suited for one, but…being rejected still hurt.

 

Yet he understood exactly why, and it was the same reason he was now sticking pins in a map in an attempt to feel useful. Because ever since he had witnessed the two felines kissing, his heart had become as painfully searing as a fiery coal yet also as cold as the mountain snows…and this was directly responsible for how he now treated the snow leopard as if he were the bearer of a deadly plague, and this in turn had prompted the serpent's attitude toward him—and most likely, the red panda's lack of faith.

 

He couldn't help it though, he loved Mei Ling with all his heart. Nothing would ever change that fact, it was like knowing the sun would always rise in the east and set in the west. Even if their relationship was doomed before it began, he would always yearn for her, and no other would ever take her place in his thoughts.

 

Of course, he reflected bitterly, he should have known this would happen. What, after all, could the mountain cat see in him? When they had first met, he had only been a worthless janitor, the lowest rung on the ladder, a menial laborer no one, not even the kindly but often thoughtlessly blunt Master Hu, had bothered to notice most of the time. When they did, the best he could hope for was a sheepish, 'Glad it's you and not me!' grin, or a few exchanged greetings if he was particularly lucky. True, Mei Ling had always seen more in him than anyone else, had spoken to him from day one as if he were a person and not just part of the furniture—thanking him for his work, asking him about himself, laughing and joking with him during off-hours from training.

 

But he had chalked that up to the feline's overall generous and caring nature, not an especially deep connection on which he should place any hopes. Her encouragement had helped make him what he was today, but that had merely been a good heart helping someone achieve his full potential. Surely she had met many men since then who were more in line with her tastes, more in her league—simply, he thought with a wince, compatible with her physically. Not that Mei Ling had ever shown a desire to have children of her own, never mind what a wonderful mother she would make (when she wasn't out righting wrongs and eliminating evildoers). But almost all women wanted that someday…and even if she didn't, they still could never work as lovers.

 

That hadn't stopped him from futilely praying and hoping for it, even fantasizing about it on many an occasion. Many a time he had considered sending Mei Ling an anonymous letter, declaring his unsung love, when he heard she was near the Valley of Peace—since he knew she would recognize his style of calligraphy which she had taught him herself. Other times, when he felt extremely bold and at his most confident, he considered throwing caution to the wind and actually signing his name—or better still, going off to meet her in person, with or without Shifu's permission.

 

Master Oogway, for whom he had always felt a greater kinship and affection, and with whom he had spent many more hours meditating on philosophy, spirituality, and the empirical search for knowledge, would surely have understood and allowed it—even given his unconditional blessing. But somehow, when the moment came, Crane had always been overcome with cowardice and fear of rejection, and had thus stayed at the Jade Palace where it was safe, secure…and lonely.

 

Now, when Mei Ling had appeared in his life again after so many years apart, he had been certain this was a sign. Completely aside from how her coming had spared Tai Lung the ignominy and cruelty of accusation and re-imprisonment (or worse), or how she brought information and skill to bear against the Wu Sisters right when they needed it, it had seemed the gods themselves were granting this union. That if he simply overcame his uncertainty and worry, to come right out and tell her how he felt, then all would be well, and all his dreams would finally come true.

 

But then Tai Lung had entered the picture.

 

A sharp crack penetrated his brain, and Crane abruptly refocused on what he was doing to discover, to his annoyance and distress, that he had pushed a pin so hard against the map it had completely snapped the bamboo backing behind it. Discarding it with a muttered curse, he leaned against a bookshelf and ducked his head as far beneath his hat as he could.

 

All displays of anger aside, he had to have known this would happen. That was what he kept telling himself. Tai Lung was handsome, undeniably masculine, powerful, and driven—all things Crane was not. He had more skill in kung fu, more mastery of the scrolls, more innovation and creativity, than the bird had in the hollow of one wing feather. Yes, he was the master of deflection, when it came to words as well as actions, and could avert bloodshed, hatred, and countless deaths through his diplomacy and tact—things the snow leopard was certainly not capable of and might never be. But he was nowhere near as direct, strong, or determined as the ex-convict.

 

He did not speak his mind, put his neck on the line for who and what he believed in, or even take the initiative most of the time—all things he had learned growing up as a member of a traditionally gentler, weaker species; from only finding work through menial, unprofessional, thankless tasks that had taught him subservience; or from being outclassed and overshadowed by the much more dominant, take-charge personalities among the Furious Five.

 

But there it was…however it happened, whether it was the fault of circumstance or his own choices, he was not nearly assertive enough to gain what he wanted—or, at least in his estimation, to be worthy of it. What woman like Mei Ling would want a doormat for a husband? Tigress might, he thought a bit uncharitably, but the mountain cat was too sweet and self-effacing for that.

 

Worst of all, of course, was that the snow leopard was doing his very best to turn his life around, to atone for his numerous sins and redeem himself as a true hero and noble fighter—and was so far meeting with admirable success, for the most part. Something Mei Ling could not fail to find inspiring and brave. And…he was a fellow feline, much more likely to be attractive to her. How could Tai Lung not be the perfect match for her?

 

He wanted to hate the spotted cat for it; in fact, something dark and ugly deep down inside his heart seemed to be pushing him to, demanding he give in to this rage and desire to lash out and hurt, and only his great familiarity with calming techniques and meditative trances kept him from tearing Tai Lung's golden eyes out with his talons. But in truth, he knew it wasn't the snow leopard's fault. It was his, and his alone.

 

After all, how could Tai Lung (or Mei Ling for that matter) possibly have known of his feelings, that he secretly viewed the mountain cat as his soul mate and had always assumed one day they would be together, when he never gave voice to his desires to anyone, let alone either of them? He couldn't even say Mei Ling should have figured it out by now, picked up on his signals…because in his shyness and wariness, he had made certain to squash any seemingly flirtatious or seductive expressions and turns of phrase.

 

He hadn't wanted to embarrass himself, or worse end up laughed at the way Tigress had treated Monkey all those years ago, if it turned out Mei Ling indeed had no interest in him whatsoever and only saw him as a dear friend. And so in the end, he had doomed himself; he had assumed too much, waited too long.

 

Now it was too late, he had lost her.

 

"Crane?"

 

Jumping several feet in the air, and flapping his wings to swiftly regain his balance and keep from landing with a jarring thud on the stone floor, the avian kung fu master jerked his head to look. It was Mei Ling—almost as if his thought had summoned her, that she in her contrary feline way had decided to prove she was right there to be found whenever he wanted her. She stood in the doorway…and to his surprise, suspicion, and disbelief, she looked upset, bleak, and pained. Not with him, he sensed, but with herself.

 

"Yes?" he said, a little more testily and snapped off than he would have liked. But if she had finally come to apologize for her unseemly display of several weeks ago, he didn't want to hear it; she was a grown woman and could do as she pleased. And if she had belatedly realized his true feelings and were now attempting to make amends, that would be even worse. He didn't want her pity, and refused to listen to the sympathetic 'we'll always be friends' talk; it would just break his heart into even more miniscule fragments.

 

She winced, but then fixed on him her usual openly frank, unwavering gaze. Whatever else changed about her, whoever lay in her future, she would always be direct and aboveboard with him (which was yet another reason this sudden pursuit of Tai Lung had hurt him so, for it had come completely out of nowhere). And on some level he privately appreciated it even now. "I…I just came to tell you, I am so sorry for what you…had to witness. I didn't mean to be so forward in front of you, it just sort of…happened."

 

Crane alighted on the floor, and made some show of inspecting and folding his wings, ruffling and flattening his feathers, even preening himself, before he finally turned and gave her what he hoped was a flat and penetrating glare. "I see. And why should that be of any interest to me? You can pursue and romance anyone you like, you don't need my permission for that, Mei Ling. I'm not your father."

 

At the last moment, right as those words escaped his bill, he realized his horrible mistake and squeezed his eyes shut; no matter how much heartache he was suffering, and how strained their relationship would now become, he'd had no right to bring up Wu Xuan in that context.

 

Indeed, the mountain cat did look stricken, shaken, and badly hurt for a few split seconds—ones that seemed eternally long to Crane's anguished mind—before she seemed to snap out of it, sigh, and look away. "No, you're not; but you've always looked out for me, the same way I did you. Your opinion, and respect, matter to me. In which case, I suppose I deserved that."

 

He blinked briefly at that admission; was she implying he was sitting in judgment of her choice in a mate? If anything, he'd only been disparaging the manner in which she'd announced her claim. But now that he thought about it, he _did_ take issue with her choice—not because he hated or distrusted Tai Lung, although that little display with Po in the kwoon had been…disquieting, to say the least, but because he couldn't be certain why exactly she had chosen him.

 

So after crossing his wings and regarding her silently for several moments, he half-turned away dismissively. "Only you know whether that's the case, Mei Ling. No one else. But that doesn't matter now. All I want to know is, why? Why him, and why now? Don't you think there are better times than when we're in the middle of a siege?"

 

In spite of himself, he felt the passion breaking through in his voice, cracking it with the strain of trying to rein his temper in, and he was soon flapping his wings to emphasize his points as he paced the room. "People are dying out there, Mei Ling, and your sisters—remember _them_? The ones who killed your father?—they're here too. And you're worrying about making a love match?" He shook his head. "I have to say, I never expected something like this from you. I'm…disappointed."

 

Mei Ling's jaw dropped, and then she gasped as she strode forward. " _What_? No, you've got it all wrong! That's not what's going on here."

 

"Could have fooled me. I think Tigress said it best." Crane regarded her coldly, distantly, even as part of him wanted to grab her by the shoulders, shake sense into her, slap her out of this shallow lust she was feeling for Tai Lung and tell her how much he wanted her, needed her.

 

The mountain cat, meanwhile, was clutching at her temples with both paws and shaking her head from side to side, slowly at first and then with more vigor as she moaned softly. "No…oh _damn_ it all! This isn't how it was supposed to happen, I didn't think—"

 

"Now that's something we agree on."

 

"I was only trying to—I just wanted—"

 

"I think it's fairly clear what you were wanting." He couldn't keep the sneer out of his voice, and didn't try. "And I'm sure Viper could give you an earful on what's under those trousers…assuming you haven't already found out for yourself by now."

 

"Crane, _stop it_!" Mei Ling's cry came out more like a snarling yowl that seemed to startle even her. Yet even as he was staring at her, shocked into silence, she balled her fists and took a step toward him—and he was even more stunned by the genuine pain and loss in her brown eyes. "Listen to me. You have to listen. This isn't…" She swallowed hard, licked her lips.

 

"Okay, we're all in danger, the whole Valley is in danger. But I happen to think that's _exactly_ the time to think about the future, to plan for love and romance. Isn't that we're fighting for? For everyone to have the chance to keep living, loving, celebrating? What good is defeating the villains, if we just become heartless killing machines who don't have time for anything but dealing out death and pain? There's a real chance for hope here, for peace and a new beginning. And I'm not going to rest until I know for sure it's not only possible, but actual!

 

"As for why…" She hesitated, then plunged onward. "I really wish I could tell you, but you'll just have to trust me when I say I'm doing the right thing. If I told you, Tigress might find out, then she'd throw a fit, and Tai Lung would get caught in the middle, and we'd all be even worse off when the battle sta—"

 

"Wait, _what_?" Crane was confused—and furious. "What does Tigress have to do with this? Since when do you care what she, or anyone else, thinks about what you choose—" He broke off, and suddenly an insidious thought came to him, one he wanted to shake aside but which he was certain, with growing despair and resentment, was the absolute truth.

 

"Oh, I get it. I see it all now! She's been against Tai Lung since the beginning…she was the one who never trusted him, the last holdout, the one he had to convince if he was going to have any peace, let alone change his life. He put you up to this, didn't he?"

 

"What? _No_! It was my idea. Well okay, I kind of got it from Viper, but—"

 

"Viper? _She's_ involved in this too?" His head spun. How far did this conspiracy go? How many people had the snow leopard convinced to help him? Or was it really all just in Mei Ling's head? Either way, it was wrong and he aimed to tell her so. You didn't use love—or more precisely, lust—as a tool to make someone look better, no matter how much they might need to be cast in a better light.

 

"Forget it, it doesn't matter. You do what you think is right, you always have. If you really think that you and Tai Lung becoming an item is going to make Tigress change her mind about him, fine. If you believe the fact someone like _you_ can take a shine to him will prove he's changed and deserves everyone's trust, be my guest. But leave me out of it!"

 

He turned away again, crumpling the nearest parchment with his wing feathers. "Though I suppose I should feel lucky you even bothered to tell me at all. If Tai Lung were still here, instead of at Wu Dan, you'd probably be all snuggled up with him in his room, wouldn't you? And I'd still be in the dark."

 

Mei Ling stared at him for many long moments, thunderstruck; he couldn't tell if she was angry or about to burst into tears, confused or guilty at his insights. Then, slowly, her jaw hardened and she stalked toward him with an implacable gait. "I can't believe it. You really think all that? I thought you were smarter than this, Crane. This isn't what you think at all. I love—"

 

Before she could say the final words, complete the hateful phrase with the name Crane didn't want to hear, there came a sudden bang from the room's only window, making its shutters rattle and clatter, and both of them whirled about to stare at it, dumbfounded. A few moments passed, as they eyed the wooden slats and adopted kung fu stances to combat whatever might lie without. Then the shutters banged again, even more loudly and violently.

 

One step at a time, the avian inched closer to the window, dread and adrenaline surging through him in equal measures. He sincerely doubted either the Wu Sisters or the unknown killer would announce their presence so openly and without subtlety, but he couldn't take any chances.

 

Exchanging a quick glance with Mei Ling, he waited until she had her paws raised, ready to strike with blinding speed, then with equally rapid movements grabbed hold of the shutters and yanked them inwards so whoever or whatever was on the other side would stand revealed.

 

The last thing he expected, though, was for the intruder to actually have been leaning against the shutters—and therefore fall _into_ the room, landing with a thud and a cloud of gray feathers on the floor. It took Crane several seconds to process this, several more to realize just who lay at his feet—and as soon as he did, all other thoughts were driven from his mind by the fellow's identity…and his condition.

 

"Zeng!"

 

The messenger goose, such a familiar staple around the Jade Palace, so reliable and prompt in carrying out his service, he who had been sent to the Imperial City a month and a half ago and had never returned, was of course still clad in his golden uniform—but aside from this, everything else was so shockingly different about him, his appearance was changed so drastically, that Crane could barely recognize him.

 

For one thing, the bird's clothing itself was ripped and tattered, smudged with dirt, sweat, and what looked like dried blood so that it seemed more a muddy brown than gold. Somehow he still retained his hat, but it was so battered and dented it looked more like a scarred and pitted battle helmet. His feathers, greasy and gummy with who knew what, seemed to be permanently ruffled and ragged, as if he were in a state of perpetual molt—in fact a large number of them were missing, showing bare flesh underneath.

 

Flesh that looked bruised…slashed…even, Crane could swear, branded. There was a certainly a terrible mix of clotted blood mingled with charred black skin… The poor fellow was also pathetically thin, even more so than usual, and seemed unable to stand on his own two feet for long without collapsing. His entire body, in fact, was trembling constantly, and a nervous tic had developed in one bulging eye.

 

"Oh gods!" Mei Ling clapped a paw to her mouth, her eyes wide in horror. "What happened to you? How did you…"

 

"Crane?" Even Zeng's voice was different, gone straight past a raspy, scratchy cough to a faint, barely audible whisper. He rested his wing feathers weakly on Crane's, leaning on him for support. "Is that you? I…I tried so hard to get here…"

 

"Yes…yes, it's me." The waterfowl longed to call for Mantis, or send Mei Ling to fetch him, but somehow he couldn't move and his throat locked up. "Please, you have to tell us, who did this to you?"

 

Agitation warred with stark fear in the goose's eyes, and despite his weakened state he struggled valiantly in Crane's grip. "No! _No!_ I…I can't tell you, he'll kill me if I tell you…he said he would, he'll kill me…"

 

Mei Ling exchanged a worried glance with Crane. "But Zeng…there's no one here but us. And we'll protect you, he'll never hurt you again. I promise! It's all right for you to tell us…"

 

Yet squawks of terror still escaped his bill, and the bird's fear in fact seemed to escalate rather than be reassured by this. "No, he'll know! I can't tell you how, but he'll know! Please don't make me say his name…I don't want to die…" He whimpered. "You won't be able to save me…or yourselves. Believe me…you don't know what you're dealing with…"

 

Now Crane was becoming afraid himself; who or what could possibly have made him so frightened? Swallowing hard, he managed to say, "All right, all right…you don't have to tell us. But you obviously do have something to say, or you wouldn't have come to us. What is it?" He flicked his eyes to the scroll case on Zeng's back, which no longer had a finial and roller protruding from it. "Did you get Master Shifu's letter to the Emperor?"

 

Zeng shook his head sadly, apologetically—as if they could blame him for failing, after what he'd been through! "No…never made it there. But…I do have a message. For Tai Lung." His eyes glazed over slightly, tracking unfocused from one face to the other. "I heard…did you say something about Wu Dan?"

 

While Mei Ling explained where the snow leopard had went, with whom, and why, Crane gently extracted the scroll from its carrying case. It was hardly the same quality as the one Shifu had sent—roughly-woven, smeared with dried mud and blood, torn in several places and looking like nothing more than a filthy rag.

 

And when he unrolled it to read what had been scrawled onto it, he saw the hanzi characters were barely legible, having been written in haste and smeared to boot. But he could just make it out…and what he read made his blood run cold. He read it again to be sure…then he glanced over his shoulder at the map he'd been marking.

 

Somehow, where before he had seen no pattern, now it was as stark and clear as day, as if he'd merely been looking at it from the wrong angle before. With the name on the parchment to guide him, he could see, so plain he felt like an idiot for missing it, that together the locales of each of the murders formed a gigantic arrowhead. One uneven, staggered, and lopsided to be sure…but quite obviously pointing to the northwest. _Of course. Of course! But then that must mean…how? It still makes no sense…_

 

Interrupting his train of thought, he turned back to Zeng. "You did well in bringing this to us, you're right about how important it is. But you're in no condition to fly…so I'll take you to Wu Dan myself." He paused, looked at Mei Ling who seemed ready to protest, and then ignored her; if Zeng was so terrified of his kidnapper even knowing he'd identified him, then leaving him with a healer would also be protested, and possibly truly unsafe. And from what he'd just learned from the map... "I don't want to leave you here, in case…he…does show up. And Tai Lung…he has to know about this…"

                                                                       

* * *

 

Cradled on Crane's back and held in place by a leather harness the waterfowl sometimes wore to hold supplies and weapons for long-distance traveling—its straps fixed around him as loosely as could be allowed to keep from aggravating his wounds—Zeng could feel the other bird's wing muscles flexing and bulging powerfully beneath him and felt somehow comforted.

 

Though he would never dare to broach the subject, he had always wished to go flying with the kung fu master sometime, not to race or touch the vaults of the sky but to enjoy the simple pleasure of flight, the freedom of the air and the brief escape from duty and loyalty before returning to their proscribed roles at the Palace. Never had he imagined that one day he'd get his wish…but not at all in the manner he would have wished.

 

Gazing at the clouds drifting by so peacefully high above him, he found his own thoughts drifting with them whether he wanted them to or not. He kept trying to keep them fixed only on things of a pleasant nature, but somehow whatever he contemplated kept taking him back to the nadir…to his private torture…the imprisonment that had broken his spirit. His wife and children, the family he adored and treasured so dearly—he had prayed for their good fortune, that day at Chorh-Gom when he'd been certain he would die with all the rhinoceros guards, begged the gods to take care of them and ensure a bright future lay in store for them.

 

But now, though as yet they had not suffered any hardship or calamity, or even knew yet what had befallen him—the terrible threat still hovered unseen over them. That was what his captor had used to procure compliance, repeatedly and with sadistic relish stating exactly what he would do to them when he found them. Things which could not be spoken, or even thought of. Things that would make them beg for death. Things he would sooner die himself than experience…and the Evil One had promised him he would indeed suffer them, if he did not fulfill his role to the letter.

 

He tried to think of how he had always lived to serve, as had his father before him, and his before that, all the way back to when Grand Master Oogway first came to the Valley of Peace. The tortoise had been so impressed when that first goose had brought him a detailed map of the valley long before he reached it; how he had delivered a letter to the Emperor in record time, explaining Oogway's desire to settle in Hubei and commune with the wealth of natural _chi_ to be found there; how he brought back from the Son of Heaven the schematics of various palaces and temples in and around the Imperial City, which were used as the basis for constructing the Jade Palace; and even that his sharp eye had observed the glint of sunlight off of exposed deposits of the rare and valuable stone, so that it could be mined from the mountains for the purpose.

 

With his characteristic wit, Oogway had commented that the goose 'seemed to be something of a messenger' and had then requested Zeng's ancestor make it official, becoming his personal messenger at the Jade Palace when it was completed. But even such oft-told legends from his family could not remove the stain of failure and weakness from Zeng's mind…for it had been his feather that had allowed Tai Lung's escape and led directly to the slaughter of the Anvil of Heaven; he had not delivered the message to Emperor Chen—it had been confiscated and destroyed by his captor, so now no garrison would be coming.

 

And even at this very moment, by giving a message to Crane which the kung fu master had insisted be flown to Wu Dan, and which he had also agreed had to be done, he was an agent of the enemy, making it possible for his diabolical plans to come to pass. It was all a trap, he knew it was…and yet Zeng was helping him do it because he had no choice.

 

Even the knowledge that he had been doing so many good deeds prior to being captured—patrolling the perimeter of the Valley on the lookout for anything unusual or troublesome, directing the pigs and horses of the palace guard in setting up roadblocks and checkpoints for anyone going into the Valley, warning the populace of the danger and calling the isolated families from the most outlying settlements into the center of the Valley where the Furious Five could look out for them—meant nothing.

 

Because it was on one of those mercy missions, coming to bring Wei Chang and his family into the village, when he had been caught in the first place. If he had not been such a fool, if he had not allowed himself to be distracted by the miracle of Vachir's survival and instead had probed more closely into how such an impossibility could be, then he would not be in his dire condition…he would not have had to witness, bound and gagged and weeping piteously, as the little elephant boy had been slain and gutted before his horrified eyes…and then seen the former commander march into the house to take care of the unsuspecting parents, too.

 

Where they were now, if they still lived, Zeng didn't know…on the one hand, he didn't want to think of more blood on his conscience, but on the other hand, it would be more merciful if they weren't alive and in agony… He should have known, should have realized, should not have trusted…

 

Finally, after what seemed hours of flight but was in truth only twenty minutes or so—it was much easier and swifter getting to Wu Dan by flight than on foot—he felt Crane's body shift and angle in a sharp descent. Peering over one gray-feathered wing, he spied the glittering waters of the Pool of Sacred Tears, the forested slope, the snow-covered heights of the peak, and then at last the grassy plain where only the most dedicated and advanced students of kung fu trained. There was a tendril of smoke arising from a campfire, and Crane was winging in straight toward it.

 

Before Zeng knew it, they were spiraling in for a landing, the avian kung fu master quite skilled at handling the alpine updrafts despite having someone tied to his back, and it wasn't long before more features and details came into view. He could see a small, red-robed form perched on a rock, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the training with a critical eye and determined, no-nonsense confidence. He spied the Dragon Warrior off to one side, sparring with empty air—and, to his shock, sending whips of water through the air from the nearby stream with every Tiger Fist or Dragon Kick.

 

And he caught sight of the gray-pelted figure of Tai Lung on the other side of the field, twisting and gyrating about in one roundhouse, drop-kick, and flying leap after another—and with each punch of a fist or blow of a foot delivered to nothing, a ball of intense flame burned and rotated lazily in mid-air.

 

As they landed, all three kung fu warriors stopped what they were doing, turning to stare at them in mingled puzzlement, confusion, and worry. Shifu, Zeng noted, looked rather cross, though whether at being interrupted or Crane not going through the proper channels, he had no idea. When the red panda saw the goose, however, he immediately widened his watery blue eyes and rushed forward. "Zeng, is that you? Good heavens, what happened to you…"

 

In spite of himself, the goose had to manage a weak, lopsided smile; while he had never faulted Shifu for it—he was, after all, the greatest kung fu master and teacher who had ever lived, save for Oogway, and compared to that, what was a lowly servant?—the red panda had rarely if ever shown any concern and caring for Zeng in all his years of service. Again, not that it had been justified, expected, or even required. For while the goose might have been the de facto head of the palace's scribes and other mundane functionaries, he had always been content to remain in the periphery, toiling away at his numerous unnoticed tasks and being on-hand whenever a message had to be dictated or delivered.

 

His role was to grease the cogs, so to speak, to make sure everything on the Jade Mountain went as smooth and efficiently as possible, so that Shifu and the Furious Five would be free to focus on defending the Valley of Peace, not such frivolous matters. He counted himself a success if he wasn't noticed, and was displeased when anything made him the center of attention…although being timid and meek might also have something to do with disliking that…

 

In any event, all of this notwithstanding, it was somehow appropriate that the only time Shifu bothered to care about him was when he had been terribly mistreated. _Maybe I should try getting kidnapped more often…_

 

"What, this?" he croaked out at last. "Oh, it's nothing, Master Shifu. Just a little torture, abuse, and enforced starvation. All in a day's work for me. Nothing a nice big bowl of stew won't fix right up…"

 

Aghast, and ignoring his attempt at sarcasm, Shifu was at his side at once, working on undoing the leather straps holding him in place. "What? I don't understand, who would want to—" His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Does this have to do with the letter I gave you?"

 

Zeng flicked his eyes away guiltily. "Heh, about that…sorry, M-Master Shifu…I'm afraid I didn't make it to the c-capital…in fact I kind of lost the letter…"

 

Amazingly, the red panda waved the matter aside. "Forget that, I'm more worried about you! Who did this to you? Where have you been, and how did you…"

 

Before he could speak further, however, an enormous shadow suddenly blocked out the afternoon sun from the other side, and then Tai Lung loomed over him. Tearing free the last of the harness, the snow leopard knelt beside Crane—and to Zeng's shock, his face was as white and drawn as Shifu's, his golden eyes filled with disbelief and anguish, and a real sense of helplessness quite unlike him. Reaching out with shaking, tremulous paws, he scooped the goose up off Crane's back and lifted him to rest almost tenderly against his furry chest, almost as if he were a baby.

 

At any other time Zeng would have found this disturbing, or at least mildly offensive—despite the size difference, he was certainly no child to be coddled! But now…now it felt extremely good to know someone cared, wanted to look after him and ensure he was well. The fact it was Tai Lung was something of a shock, but the more he thought about it, the more unusual sense it made. It hadn't been intentional, but in a way, it could be interpreted that he had aided the snow leopard's escape.

 

While some might doubt that the scourge of the Valley could ever feel any positive emotion, let alone gratitude, Zeng understood. He had seen the conditions in which Tai Lung had been held—for the first time, since the few times Chorh-Gom had been inspected over the last two decades, it had been other temple guards who had done the deed. He had learned what exactly the spotted cat had been through, the inhumanity of his imprisonment.

 

And he had witnessed firsthand the sort of abuse from Vachir that he was fairly sure had been a regular occurrence. Anyone would want to escape such treatment…anyone would be grateful to the person who helped them escape it, albeit inadvertently.

 

After only a month and a half under Vachir's tender cares, Zeng knew he himself could not have withstood twenty years of it. If the snow leopard hadn't been insane going into Chorh-Gom, being so upon emerging from its shadows was utterly justified. Suddenly, somehow, at least some of the atrocities he'd committed during and following his escape were more forgivable.

 

Gazing up into the leopard's concerned face, he felt the massive paw stroking his head, a mirror to the gesture he'd made almost three months before when he'd flung him into the snow-flurried, cloud-packed Mongolian sky to tell the Valley of Peace of his coming. And this time, he realized Tai Lung meant it.

 

Still, that didn't keep him from swallowing hard when the cat suddenly clenched a fist and knotted the muscles in his arm and shoulder, a perfect counterpart to the trembling, rigid set of his jaw as he stared with flashing, hateful eyes at something no one else could see. "I don't know who did this to you, and I don't care. But I promise you, Zeng: they…will… _pay_."

 

Even though it heartened him to know someone like Tai Lung could become that much of a protector, the goose shook himself and tried to sit up. "I don't…that doesn't matter right now. You…you have to read the message I brought for you. You have to _know_."

 

He hated having to lie like this, to misdirect the feline into what might well be his doom—or the Valley's, if the one controlling Vachir were to bring him under his foul influence. But this was the only way he and his family would be safe…would not end up like Wei Chang's. It was why he'd insisted on Crane being right to bring him here, not to bother with healing...because he knew the message not only had to be delivered if he wanted his family safe, but that the manner of its delivery was also key, and only his presence could lead to the interpretation his captor wanted. That terrible shadow was likely lying of course—he would still harm Zeng and his loved ones anyway. But at least this way, there was a slight chance he wouldn't.

 

And perhaps…if Tai Lung _did_ know, really know, who was doing this…if he figured it out before it was too late…then there was still a hope they could all be saved.

 

While he was feverishly thinking this, Tai Lung had already taken the note from Zeng's scroll case, holding it in one paw while he supported the goose with his other arm. He scanned the lines…and the messenger bird watched with trepidation as the blood drained from his face.

 

The snow leopard looked even paler than he had been after twenty years of being denied sunlight and fresh air, and his chest heaved as if he'd just run the entire distance to Wu Dan, his breathing ragged and uneven. Zeng couldn't believe it, if anyone had told him without him seeing it for himself, he'd have assumed them out of their mind. But Tai Lung was afraid.

 

And having seen the sadistic, cruel side of Vachir as he showed off the countless weapons, restraints, and disgusting implements he used to keep his prisoner docile and harmless…having encountered the rhino again now on the outskirts of the Valley, where there was something even darker, more hateful, and _wrong_ about him…he didn't blame the snow leopard in the slightest. He should be afraid. They all should. There was something even more wicked and heartless set loose on the empire…it had found a welcome home in the commander, transformed him into something even worse…and whatever it was, it would not stop until it had consumed them all.

 

Shifu, who had been caught up in grilling Crane on why he had flown here with a badly injured and starving Zeng instead of turning him over to Mantis's care, and who also seemed angry the bird had taken matters into his own talons instead of turning it over to the one in charge at the palace, Viper, glanced over now—and noticed the look on Tai Lung's face. "Son…what is it?"

 

He leaped up onto a boulder and snatched the parchment from the leopard's slack grip, then began to read it aloud. Zeng, of course, already knew what it said…had heard it recited to him, read it over countless times, committed it to memory in case something had happened to the message. He knew what it said…and what it meant.

 

" _Tai Lung,_

_I hope you've been getting my notes; I'd hate to have gone to all that trouble, only for you to miss 'em. By now, you've gotta know what they mean, where I am, and what I want. But just in case ya weren't smart enough, or you've had your head up your ass all this time playing at being the flower-lovin' Zen master_ — _and face it, we both know that ain't you_ — _let me spell it out for ya._

_I know where you are. I know **who** you are, no matter what you try to tell everyone, and yourself. And I know ya still owe me for what you did, all those years ago. You took my father, my brothers, my whole damn family from me. You got punished for your crimes…but nowhere the hell near enough._

_You're gonna keep findin' more markers from me, till you do what's right. Come and face me once and for all, and we'll settle this man to man, the way it oughta be. Maybe you'll kill me, add another crime to that list you could paint all along the Great Wall. Or maybe I'll kill you, and everyone else can rest easy in their beds_ — _and I can have some peace, too._

_Either way…meet me at a little place near Qinghe, I think you know the one. Means a lot to both of us. I ain't gonna tell ya not to come alone, 'cause I know you work best that way. And if you are dumb enough to bring along your new 'friends', well…do what ya gotta do. But before you decide, you better know: one of 'em's gonna betray ya._

_I'll give ya a week, two at most, to get there. After that, the killing starts again. Sleep well, Tai Tai._

_And don't try and get anything outta my messenger. He don't know nothing, and wouldn't tell ya if he did. Not if he knows what's good for him, anyway."_

 

It wasn't signed. It didn't have to be.

 

The red panda lowered the note, mouth slightly open and working soundlessly while his clenched fist looked as if it wanted to crumple and shred the parchment to bits. On his other side, the Dragon Warrior, Po, had been standing silent all this time, his green eyes as wide as saucers as he looked from the bedraggled goose, to the shell-shocked Tai Lung, and finally the message in Shifu's hand. Then at last, in a very small voice, he said, "I…I don't get it. What's goin' on here? Where's Qinghe? I never heard of it before…"

 

Zeng knew of course. So did Tai Lung, to judge from his expression which still mixed fear with hatred and despair. And if Shifu knew, he wasn't telling. So in the end it was Crane who turned and looked at the panda, morose and somber, before flicking his gaze to the whispering grass blades.

 

"It's a town in Xinjiang, northwest of here," the bird said quietly, as if to speak louder would disturb the dead. "The last village before the Tavan Bogd range…near Chorh-Gom."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes this time. The bit with young Tai talking about Shifu disciplining him "with blocks" is a shout-out to _Lilo & Stitch_, while the courtier running away and saying the palace 'owes him a new set of court robes' is a shout-out to _Mulan_. It shouldn't be too hard, reading this, to figure out my fave books and movies... The part at the end of Tai's Fire training when he and Shifu bow to each other is indeed a deliberate echo of Po and Shifu's bow at the end of his training. As for the three-way dumpling fight, and especially how it started, that was inspired by the directors' commentary in which they said originally the dumpling fight was conceived as being between Tai Lung and Shifu. So, here's my take on it!
> 
> I tried very hard not to make the chi training scenes be too reminiscent of _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ , hence why you didn't see a whole lot of actual work with the elements. Don't worry, I deliberately held back cooler moves so they can show up later in actual combat. ;) I also made sure to reference Crane being close to Oogway, since I think that idea makes a lot of sense.


	27. The Road to Chorh-Gom

 

 

The arguing began, of course, almost as soon as the four kung fu masters (with Tai Lung still carrying Zeng in his arms) started back from Wu Dan for the Valley of Peace. It lasted all the way down the mountain, across the forests, rivers, and fields, through the village, and up the endless staircase to the Jade Palace. And there, of course, it only intensified when the rest of the Furious Five learned of the taunting missive, what it contained—and what the snow leopard's unequivocal decision was.

 

It was, quite clearly, a trap of course. Tai Lung didn't need Zeng's confirmation to tell him that, however much the messenger goose clearly longed to give it to him and just as clearly was too terrified to do so. The letter was far too snide, cruel, and calculated to enrage him to be anything else. The fact it practically dared him to come alone, then attempted to fill his mind with doubt as to his companions' trustworthiness, how it made the whole thing a matter of revenge, that it claimed the killing wouldn't stop until the ex-convict met with the writer, that it was meant to lure him far from the Valley to a place of danger, isolation, and despair—these were all hallmarks of something meant to ensnare him.

 

But just as clear was the fact that, no matter what anyone else said to the contrary, he still had to go to Chorh-Gom.

 

He wished that his reason for being so adamant in this were solely the danger to the innocent people of the Valley, that only by facing down this depraved murderer and ridding China of his festering influence once and for all could he ensure no one else had to die in such a horrific and sickening manner. It was, in fact, his main reason for going—even if he wasn't particularly fond of a large portion of the Valley's residents, there were many others all throughout the empire who never once mocked, belittled, or rejected him, and just as many who had treated him like a true hero. He did not want to see them die, let alone so terribly.

 

At the same time, however, he couldn't deny his other very compelling reason: to take care of the bastard behind all this because he had a very personal reason to do so. Because he hated him more than he did anyone else, even Shifu and Oogway at the height (depth?) of his insanity. Because the one doing this was the one person he could still call his enemy without exaggerating or sounding like the same old scourge and monster. Because it was his place to do this, no one else's.

 

It was as the turtle's ghost had said: _I suspect you will have to face, and deal with, your past once and for all_. Had he truly been guessing, reading a vague future, or had Oogway known full well what was coming, and had tried to give him a clue?

 

There was still a slender chance, one Tai Lung clung to like a straw, that it was not Vachir. The snow leopard had killed a lot of people, and their families, during his rampage, so claiming that as the reason to seek revenge against him didn't really mean much of anything. But add that point to other details—the tone of the letter, the reference to Chorh-Gom as a place that 'meant a lot to both of them', Zeng's unreasoning fear, the bloody messages in Mongolian—and the truth couldn't be denied any longer.

 

Somehow, Vachir had survived. He wanted payback for the humiliation of Tai Lung's escape, for the death of his loved ones, for imagined slights and countless 'evils' the feline couldn't imagine. Unlike the Valley's citizens, who had been intimidated if not awed by the leader of the Anvil of Heaven and his exploits, or the Furious Five who could not believe someone of supposedly unimpeachable character and honor could perform such heinous acts, Tai Lung knew just what the rhino was capable of. He had seen it in prison. Heard it…watched it…experienced it for twenty years. He was frankly surprised it hadn't given him nightmares—perhaps the insanity, or the darkness within him, had kept it at bay?

 

But yes, he knew Vachir could do all they had seen and read about, and more. Which was why he had to face him. With the rhino, it had always been about the power: who had it, how they used it, how they held onto it. In some warped and sadistic way, the warden had come to view his prisoner as the embodiment not only of evil, villainy, dishonor, and hatred, but of anything and everything that had personally ruined his life. The feline became his scapegoat, his foil, and his primary adversary all in one.

 

To Vachir, there could be no end to these 'games' until Tai Lung was his again—his to control, master, dominate, and ultimately destroy. He would not rest; he would not stop; he was as determined and willful as Tai Lung himself. As Oogway had said about the _chi_ wizard, he would not rest until one of them was dead.

 

How that paralleled or figured into the shadow mage's plans, the spotted feline didn't know—it could be he was taking advantage of Vachir's vendetta, fanning its flames, or even directly influencing it. Oogway had said the enemy made use of the darkness and sins in the human heart to achieve his ends, and he would have to look no further than the rhino's mottled, rotten soul. If so, he rather suspected their unseen opponent hadn't had to work hard to sway Vachir to his side.

 

Yet whether the rhino was acting of his own free will or not, the simple fact remained: this was Tai Lung's test. No one else's. The turtle had outright stated as much, one of the few times he'd ever gotten a direct answer out of the senile old coot. He had to prove himself, and such an encounter, of such a despicable nature and with so much at stake in its resolution, would be the mother of all testimonials. But more than that…it was the right thing to do. And it was the only way for him to get peace of mind again, to lay at least some of his demons to rest.

 

All of this was a shining mosaic, as clear as crystal in his own mind. But convincing the others of that was, it seemed, impossible…and the more he realized that, the more he felt a very painful, throbbing headache developing.

 

It wasn't even that he wished to keep all others away from him because he believed what Vachir said about betrayal. There was no proof, it was obviously a lie. And if it wasn't…well, it wasn't as if he wasn't used to having no one to depend upon or trust besides himself. And somehow, leaving the Five behind in the Valley, where a supposed traitor could cause harm to Po, to Tigress, to Zhuang, or anyone else Tai Lung had come to care for, didn't exactly appeal.

 

He wished to leave them behind simply because he didn't want any of them getting hurt. It would be hard enough watching his own back, and weathering whatever Vachir might throw at him—if he had to keep track of the Five, Po, or his own father too, then the best he could expect would be a very distracted, poor showing from himself in combat. And the worst would be, well…rather worse.

 

Yet, of course, once the contents of the note had been divulged, Zeng had repeated what little he could of the story he had told Crane, and everyone had come to understand what they were facing—and what Tai Lung had decided to do about it—absolutely no one would hear of it.

 

Shifu harangued him for at least half an hour on the _extreme_ irresponsibility and inadvisability of walking into certain death alone, and while it had been slightly touching to see and hear the red panda get so worked up over the prospect of losing his son again, the snow leopard had _not_ appreciated being reminded that under the terms of the offer he'd accepted, he was forbidden to leave the Valley without Shifu's permission—at least until he had learned all of his lessons.

 

Then it had been Tigress's turn, and while the fact she seemed just as incensed at the possibility of something happening to him as Shifu made his heart leap in his chest, being called an idiot, half-brained, and impetuous (and those were the nicest things she said about him) rather got his dander up, too.

 

Monkey, now that he had finally had it rubbed in his face that the snow leopard was _not_ the rampaging killer this time, that the one in question had in fact held Zeng prisoner and given him a message to deliver, refused to let Tai Lung leave the Valley either, alone _or_ accompanied, and seemed more interested in locking him up in the Jade Palace and throwing away the key while the rest of them took care of the problem—something Tigress was swift to point out was the Furious Five's job anyway. Viper threatened to stay behind and tie him up in her coils if that was what it took to make him stay put, and he had the uncomfortable feeling she meant it.

 

And Po simply pleaded with him, both with voice and eyes, not to get himself killed and leave him without his best friend. That had truly stabbed deep into Tai Lung's heart, and almost made him change his mind—if he hadn't also been on the verge of snarling at the panda for putting him through such an unfair guilt trip (something he only refrained from launching into when he realized Po wasn't being manipulative but, as usual, just speaking from his heart).

 

When it became clear, however, that all of them truly would have to hold down, imprison, or otherwise restrain Tai Lung to keep him from leaving—something which, he was quick to point out darkly, would never hold him since he had escaped Chorh-Gom and beaten all of them in combat—the Five and their master changed tactics. (The Dragon Warrior might have tried using the nerve strike on the snow leopard, but he was not completely confident yet in his abilities, and thinking of doing so, even to save his friend's life, was as painful to him as it was to Tai Lung.) If the feline could not be convinced to stay in the Valley, then indeed they would all have to go with him.

 

That, however, was where the snow leopard put his foot down.

 

" _No!_ " Balling his fists and hulking his shoulders as his fur bristled to make him seem even larger, Tai Lung snarled as he stalked back and forth across the Hall of Warriors. "How many times do I have to say this before it sinks into your craniums? I…am going… _alone_!"

 

" _Why_ do you keep fighting us on this?" Viper finally exploded, rising up on her coils to glare into his bulging golden eyes. "Don't you trust us?"

 

"Of _course_ I do!" _Well, I trust **some** of you._

 

"Don't you think we can take care of ourselves?"

 

"Well, yes…"

 

"Then maybe you think you don't _need_ our help?" Tigress insinuated, glaring as she crossed her arms severely. "That the mighty Tai Lung can handle it all by himself, and if we come along we'd just get in the way—or hog all the glory?"

 

Tai Lung glared right back at her. _Somebody's projecting, I think._ "Hello, pot? This is kettle: you're black!"

 

"Why you—" She broke off to turn and snap at a chuckling Mantis. "What's so funny?"

 

"Nothing," the insect said innocently. "It's just, he does have a point. You do tend to stick your neck out when you don't have to, and act like it's all about you…"

 

"I do _not_!" Tigress paused, as Shifu, Viper, and Crane had all stopped arguing to raise their eyebrows at the same time. Cringing slightly, she recanted. "Um, not all the time, anyway. And I _am_ the leader of the Furious Five, so—" She broke off again with a growl of frustration. "This isn't about me, it's about him being pig-headed and stubborn as always!"

 

"Hey!" the panda grumbled. "I've got friends who're pigs…"

 

"Sorry, Po."

 

"Excuse _me_ for wanting to protect you!" Tai Lung inserted himself back into the argument, as belligerently as possible. "Would you rather I threw you all to the winds, and did absolutely nothing while you got yourselves slaughtered?"

 

"What makes you think we would?" This came from Crane, who as usual was the calmest and most logical of the group, though even he was having trouble staying even-tempered.

 

The snow leopard glowered at him. "You don't know this fellow like I do. D'you think what he's done to the bodies we've been finding is the only trick he has up his sleeves? That's just him getting warmed up! If you come along, I can't protect you all. He will find you, he will break you, and he will _kill_ you. It's what he does!"

 

Tai Lung shuddered, clenching his fists until his knuckles were white as he almost lost control altogether—almost gave away the full story, revealed just how he knew such intimate details and could speak from experience. Vachir was alive, and that fact brought his sanity to the edge, even as he also teetered between fear and pure hatred. _Don't lose it, not now…_

 

"How do you know it's a guy?" Mantis put in, genuinely puzzled. "I don't know about you, but I've found women can be pretty deadly too…what?" He met all the pointed and suggestive looks from everyone in the room, then flattened his antennae as he realized his mistake.

 

"Maybe he think women are fragile, and couldn't possibly hurt anyone?" Monkey retorted pugnaciously, sarcastically.

 

"Are you even _listening_ to yourself?" Tai Lung snapped at the simian. "In case it slipped what little mind you have, you sot, I know damn well how dangerous women can be in battle. The Wu Sisters? Tigress? Mei Ling? Viper? Is this at all sounding familiar?"

 

"Always left to last," the serpent muttered.

 

"Um, Monkey doesn't get drunk anymore," Zeng said, sounding rather out of the loop.

 

"Could've fooled me," the snow leopard said viciously, and was rewarded by a furious scowl from the primate. But then he shook himself and cried, "Anyway, you're missing the point! Just trust me, I know what I'm talking about: this foe is one even the Furious Five can't handle."

 

When Shifu spoke, it was in a startlingly quiet voice, but one nevertheless laced with bitterness and disappointment. "Which brings us back to where we started: why, then, should we let you go alone? Are you planning to sacrifice yourself, Tai Lung?"

 

Tai Lung fell silent, swallowed hard. He hadn't put it in exactly those terms, hadn't even allowed himself to think about it—partly out of his usual arrogance and partly out of blind faith, he'd hoped he could somehow succeed where the others could not—but now that he did, he realized yes: if it came down to it, if there was no other recourse, he would take Vachir down with him. That way the Valley would be safe…from both of them. Then he would truly have atoned, with his life's blood.

 

But now that it had been brought out in the open, he somehow found the prospect of martyrdom less appealing—in a peevish sort of way, because it didn't sound nearly so grand and heroic when everyone knew you were going to do it ahead of time. In fact, having Shifu reveal it in such a pedantic way made it as trite and nonsensical as it truly was—or was that just his rebellious streak again, determined to do the opposite of whatever his master and father told him to do?

 

Regardless, he also reminded himself—and became even angrier that he had to do so!—that he still had so much more to live for, so much more he could do. And he was going to throw that all away just on the off-chance it was the only way to stop Vachir? _That would truly be letting that bloody wanker win._

 

How could he be countenancing such a thing? In fact why was he letting himself get so angry? Why were they _all_ getting so angry? Something wasn't right here…

 

Before he could even hazard a guess as to why, let alone bring it to the others' attention, however, Mantis abruptly hopped up on his shoulder and swatted him with his pincers. "If that's what you were thinking, buddy, forget it! 'Cause we're all coming with you, we're gonna make sure you stay in one piece, and we _will_ beat this ghoul, whoever or whatever he is."

 

" _BOLLOCKS!_ " As his anger exploded in almost volcanic proportions, he rapidly lashed out with one massive paw, snatching Mantis before he could even attempt to avoid it and hurling him to the floor with enough force to send the insect sliding across the slick marble until he fetched up against the base of a pillar. Even as part of him flinched guiltily, he stood there with chest heaving and glared around at the ring of accusing faces.

 

"Don't you understand? This isn't going to be like anything else you've ever done! Your enemy isn't going to be honorable or fighting fair, even the Huns and the Mongols are more civilized than he is. He can do things to you that you won't believe, and he'll do it because he can. You're going to wish you were dead before it's over! If you come along, if you face him, I…I can't watch all your backs. I can't protect you all…" He hung his head, shoulders slumping.

 

For several moments only a stunned silence greeted his words. Then, finally, for the first time since they'd returned to the Jade Palace, Mei Ling spoke. Her voice was soft, but full of conviction. "Maybe not. But if we do come along, then you'll have someone to watch _your_ back."

 

Somehow, Tai Lung didn't have an answer for that one—in fact it deflated his anger almost immediately. What stunned him even more was that, for at least a few instants, as he gazed around the hall he saw that everyone gathered there agreed with Mei Ling. Even Mantis, eyeing him warily from the floor, and Monkey, as grudging and resentful as ever, seemed briefly united in their desire to come with him, to stand at his side, and to help him defeat this insidious evil.

 

Crane simply nodded once, while Shifu clasped his paws within his sleeves and locked a gaze of such love and tenderness on him that the snow leopard didn't know how he could ever have doubted the red panda. Po, of course, immediately slapped a black-furred paw on his shoulder as a means of making the oath physical and visible, but both Tigress and Viper also joined the small circle of solidarity forming around him, the striped feline mirroring the Dragon Warrior's gesture while the serpent coiled her tail around his waist and squeezed him gently.

 

"Fine," he said at last, softly, in defeat. "You can come. All but you." And he pointed a finger at Po.

 

This, of course, threatened to start a whole new round of arguing, with the panda himself insisting he was just as capable of helping in the fight as anyone else, that he had learned so much from his training of the last month and a half that he could cream the competition no matter who or what it was. Tigress seemed to agree, and additionally was incensed that the snow leopard would leave Po defenseless at the Jade Palace, with the Wu Sisters still out there—that he would trade one set of dangers for another even more deadly.

 

Mantis and Viper agreed with this point as well, but oddly Monkey agreed with Tai Lung that the panda should stay in the Valley—at least there, the dangers were known and could be dealt with more readily than this unholy killer, who seemed more ruthless and heartless than all three snow leopardesses put together. Shifu seemed torn between wanting to protect Po from further injury and use him as a secret weapon, and by the fact that either fate could happen to him at Chorh-Gom _or_ the Jade Palace. And Crane was on the fence too, since as soon as it was clear the panda could not stay alone on the mountain, Mei Ling had volunteered to be the one to stay behind with him.

 

Once again, Tai Lung had wavered in his decision—for he had been counting on the mountain cat as backup, her extensive knowledge of the scrolls and her mastery of unusual kung fu styles a vital asset in the fight he knew lay ahead. But Mei Ling, who had seemed depressed, sullen, and noncommittal all throughout the discussions, and who barely spared a glance or two words for Crane, insisted…and the more he thought about it, the more the snow leopard had to reluctantly agree.

 

With the state of affairs between himself, Tigress, and Mei Ling, the last thing this journey needed was to have both females along for the ride, hissing and clawing and scratching out each others' eyes—or his. The plan which had seemed so clever, using the Eagle Claw master as a means to make Tigress jealously pursue him, had now blown up in his face thanks to the hidden enemy's unexpected move. Tai Lung would not change the outcome, since it had led to such tenderness and caring between them, the closest he had yet come to finally sharing a real, loving relationship with Tigress. But it did make things painfully awkward and difficult now!

 

For that matter, with the way Crane kept glaring daggers at Mei Ling when he thought no one else was looking, and how she in turn seemed to be acting as if the bird wasn't there, it might be best to separate them in any case. The damage apparently done to their friendship wouldn't be any better for morale, or his mental state, than the two felines duking it out. And in any case, as both Mei Ling herself and Mantis pointed out, someone also needed to take care of poor Zeng and help nurse him back to health. Po could do that, the same way he'd helped Tigress—but the mountain cat would be a willing and receptive assistant for him.

 

Besides—he'd agree to whatever it took, if it would mean Po staying here in the Valley, where it was safe. After what happened in Yunxian, how close the panda had come to dying, Tai Lung refused to let anything happen to his friend again if he could help it—including and especially by his own paw. For even with the training in Fire _chi_ he had just received at Wu Dan, he was not altogether confident he could keep from losing control once more, and accidentally take it out on the poor panda as he had in that horrible, distressing moment in the kwoon which even now still filled him with guilt.

 

And he also didn't want the Dragon Warrior to see Chorh-Gom…to learn exactly what his prison had been like, what had happened to him there…what Vachir had done to his only prisoner. Such traumatizing details, such disgusting and appalling treatment, the pity it was sure to engender—these things were not for Po, they were the last things his innocent, kind heart should have to endure. Add that to wanting to simply protect the panda from Vachir's physical attacks, and the choice was obvious.

 

So, it was finally decided. After all eating a filling supper and getting some much needed rest to brace them for the challenge ahead, the Furious Five, Master Shifu, and Tai Lung would set off for the west and the road to Chorh-Gom. But as each of them went their separate ways from the kitchen to the bunkhouse, the snow leopard couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, that there was something he should have told his companions, something he should remember, something that was wrong.

 

But somehow he couldn't think of it, everything in his thoughts seemed hazy with sleep, simmering resentment for the Five and his master, and his constantly roiling hatred for Vachir. He also had the ugly feeling that, even were he not in such a volatile state, to the point that all the _chi_ training he'd just received seemed to flee his grasp like puffs of smoke, there would only be more disagreement, contention, and argument ahead.

 

And, of course, he was right.

                                                                      

* * *

 

The journey westward, the same leagues and miles he had covered rapidly, on foot, on all fours, and without even becoming winded or having to pause for more than a few hours of sleep and to devour haunches of meat stolen from the kitchens of inns and homes along the way, now took Tai Lung and his companions almost two weeks instead of the mere one the snow leopard had spent alone.

 

It would have taken even longer, of course, if he hadn't been with five kung fu masters who were either naturally fast, had learned to be so in the course of their studies, or simply had more endurance and stamina than the typical traveler. And even Shifu was as spry and unwearied as ever. But that didn't change the fact that all the time spent on the road was definitely testing the limits of Tai Lung's patience.

 

Not that he minded the scenery, at least for the first few days, since their road took them northwestward through some of the most verdant forest and richest farmland outside of southern China, with terraced hillsides everywhere they looked, countless streams and creeks which flowed into either of the major rivers north and south of here, and of course numerous villages and towns sprawled on the fertile shores or perched defiantly on the upper slopes of the highest elevation.

 

But every day that passed was one more in which Vachir could become tired of waiting and begin the slaughter early, in which the Wu Sisters could strike at Po while they were away… Worse still, for the first time since the night before the Ghost Festival, when he had encountered his cubhood self (if that had been what it was, and not merely some sending of Oogway's), his nightmares had begun to return. And the dream was always the same...

 

As all this anxiety, fear, and despair took their toll on him, the snow leopard found his temper growing ever shorter, his replies to his fellow masters increasingly waspish, irritable, and hateful, and his inner rage building no matter how much he sought to consume in the fires of his _chi_. And this, of course, only made the subsequent days even more frustrating, since his attitude provoked similar responses from Tigress and Monkey, and even began spreading to the others.

 

It all began when Viper, innocently enough, inquired as to whether this was the same road he had taken to the Valley from Chorh-Gom. When the spotted feline had eyed her suspiciously for several long moments, and then finally gave a curt nod and grunted in assent when he had decided she was asking out of curiosity and not some ulterior motive, instantly Monkey had pounced on the information. Apparently choosing to believe the worst of Tai Lung no matter how he comported himself or what evidence he gave as to having changed his ways, the simian proceeded to insinuate and imply all sorts of terrible things about the snow leopard that simply weren't true.

 

Openly scoffing when Tai Lung described his travels, as succinctly and blandly as possible, as 'uneventful', Monkey snapped that he surely left a path of destruction behind him just as awful and murderous as the rampage in the Valley of Peace twenty years ago—towns set ablaze, bridges destroyed with the Emperor's soldiers still upon them, landslides set off to wipe out farm fields, rivers filled with the blood and bodies of the dead.

 

By the time his recitation had ended with a disturbingly lurid description of the families torn apart, children left crying alone in the collapsed remnants of their homes…or else their pitiful remains buried under rubble so that only broken toys remained to remind their parents they'd even existed, everyone in the group had been staring at Monkey in horror and disbelief—except Tai Lung, who had launched into the primate with a crushing blow that had slammed him into the tree trunk behind him.

 

He held back just enough to keep from snapping the langur's spine, from tearing his limbs from their sockets and leaving him helpless and bleeding to death on the ground. But only just. And he hadn't held back his temper at all when he snarled, with an almost rabid foam, into Monkey's face, that he _never_ harmed a child—and if he dared claim again that he did, then he'd ensure Monkey wouldn't be able to have a child himself.

 

He had also done nothing of the sort in his determined, single-minded course eastward: most folks in the towns he passed had no idea he was even there, as he had stayed in the hills and forests the entire way. He hadn't exactly been in the right state of mind to appear in public in a civilized place, nor had he the currency to stay at inns and the like. He had stolen what he needed to survive, and that was all.

 

No one had interfered with his chastisement, and in fact Tai Lung was gratified to find that at least Shifu and Viper, perhaps also Mantis and Crane, felt Monkey was extremely out of line and had no right to make such cold, horrific statements. Tigress, too, had seemed mollified to hear once again that he had not harmed children, and for once she clearly believed he told the truth. Unfortunately, once the snow leopard allowed the simian to drop to the ground with a bruised throat and battered back, and the journey continued, this proved to be only the beginning of the troubles.

 

For conflict was soon rampant between him and his companions, and even amongst the Five, just as it had been back at the Jade Palace. But now, instead of arguing about understandable and genuinely contentious topics like the nature of their adversary, what they would find when they reached their destination, whether they should go and who would make the trip, they were fighting about petty, inconsequential things. Grudges, simmering resentments, nasty and bitter thoughts they would normally keep to themselves. Anything and everything became fodder for snippy remarks, annoyed complaints, and outright shouting matches.

 

When they were traveling through Shaanxi and eastern Gansu, and therefore had the luxury of staying at inns—ranging from well-appointed examples like the one in Yunxian to some less than stellar offerings in the smallest villages—this led to the apparently typical disagreements regarding the hygienic facilities. Namely, Tigress chewing out Viper for 'hogging the bathroom to put on her makeup' and Crane getting after Monkey for shedding far too much golden fur all over the sink.

 

But then, as they crossed the Huang He and skirted the Great Wall westward into the forested mountains, matters started becoming much more serious. When Mantis laughingly asked Tai Lung if the reason he was so reluctant to have anyone come with him to Xinjiang was because he didn't want them to find out that he had been Vachir's 'prison wife', the snow leopard had nearly smashed the insect into green pulp against a handy boulder.

 

While he'd expected someone (most likely Shifu) to get after him for once more allowing his temper to rage out of control, the red panda had been surprisingly just as disgusted with Mantis for suggesting such an abhorrent thing—though the fact he seemed to believe Vachir incapable of it and this maligning of the rhino, rather than such a repugnant act happening to his son, was why he was so angry made Tai Lung furious all over again.

 

That had led to a tirade that had echoed off the loess hills, one in which he came very close to snatching his father up by his robes and shaking him in mid-air, as with vicious and savage words he laid into Shifu, rightfully accusing him of wearing blinkers when it came to Vachir's exploits; even Zeng had understood what a cruel and inhuman bastard the rhino was after the way he'd been treated during and just before Tai Lung's escape—he'd testified to it after returning to the Valley! Everyone else seemed to believe Vachir capable of atrocities, but he was so blinded by the reputation of the Anvil of Heaven that he was in utter denial.

 

That little diatribe had resulted in the snow leopard being banished from the camp for the night, having to sleep curled up inside a hollow log to stay out of the rain until morning.

 

Then there'd been a particularly raunchy joke Mantis told to pass the time, which caused Tigress to threaten to gut him if he made one more misogynistic remark—and that had led into a full-blown and seemingly irrational explosion in which she read the insect the riot act for all the jokes he'd made at Po's expense when he first came to the Jade Palace. Not one to take that sort of behavior, Mantis had not only pointed out his humor had generally helped ease the panda through the painful nature of his kung fu lessons, and that he'd actually been the first to welcome Po and even treat his injuries, but that it was _Tigress_ who had been cruelest to him, refusing to accept him at the palace and basically treating him as something to be wiped off her paws—most likely because she saw him as having stolen the Dragon Scroll from her.

 

The striped feline had had no reply to that, only turning and stalking off for her own lonely sojourn in the forest until the next day—but Tai Lung had been sure he'd seen tears welling up thickly in her ruby eyes.

 

At the last village in the mountainous reaches of Gansu, before they crossed over into Xinjiang, Monkey had made the thoughtless and rather miserly comment that the inn there barely deserved the name, and certainly didn't deserve the stiff price they were charging for room and board. To everyone's shock, and more than one person's satisfaction, Crane of all people had lit into him after that one, first by saying the primate was one to talk after the state he'd let himself get in for the last few months—with as dirty as he'd likely made the sheets, and the terrible stench that followed him everywhere he went, the maids should be getting _extra_ pay and the innkeeper had every right to demand the Furious Five not stay at his establishment again.

 

Then, out of nowhere, the bird had noted a bit smugly that the only reason he could see why Monkey was reticent to pay so much yuan for a night's stay was because his finances were still smarting from all the money he'd had to send back to his family in Sichuan—repaying the massive loans he owed them, for all the damages incurred during the simian's drunken bar brawls. That had prompted a great deal of laughter from Mantis and Tai Lung, and a disgusted glare from Tigress, while Viper had to forcibly pin Monkey down with her coils to keep him from breaking both of Crane's wings.

 

With forced casualness the next day, Tai Lung had observed that Crane's boldness in saying such things to Monkey surprised him. Because, after Mei Ling had described to him how long it had taken the bird to muster up the gumption to apply for the next class at Li Dai, he'd been under the impression that the avian kung fu master was not a waterfowl, but a chicken. And that had inspired a shockingly hateful salvo from Crane, in which he not only defended his bravery and record on the battlefield, but attacked Tai Lung for daring to bring up Mei Ling's name when all he cared about was getting her into his bedroom so he could finally lose his virginity.

 

By the time he was describing in excruciating detail how he would break every single bone in the snow leopard's dirty, perverted paws if he dared touch the mountain cat again, or even look at her the wrong way, it had taken Shifu, Tigress, and Monkey to pull them apart—and afterward Tai Lung sported a black eye from one of the primate's fists, while the red panda received a bloody nose courtesy of one of Crane's wing deflection strikes.

 

So it was that when they finally were wending their way along the edge of the desert plateau that fronted the mountains of Xinjiang, almost every one of them was constantly glaring, snarling, hissing, or otherwise darkly regarding each other—waiting for just the right moment to strike should one of them cross the line and go too far. And Tai Lung had become convinced that at this point, if Vachir had known what he was talking about, had not been lying to cause doubt and dissension in the ranks, and one of them truly would betray him…well, it could be any one of them. Except Shifu and Viper. And Tigress, of course—he couldn't believe it would be her.

 

Then the worst altercation of all took place—and it had her squarely at the center of it.

 

It happened when they had stopped for the night beneath a rocky outcropping on the edge of the desert hardpan, protected from both the wind and the cold so that sand could not blow into their meager shelter and they could keep a fire lit for dinner and warmth. Naturally, Viper had curled up closest to the flames, attempting to keep her reptilian body properly heated—privately Tai Lung had to worry a bit about what would happen when they ascended into the snowy reaches of Tavan Bogd—while Mantis had formed a little nest in the sand. Crane and Monkey were both on opposite sides of the camp from each other and from him. Shifu had settled down on a small rock, eyes closed and breathing even, and Tigress sat between him and the snow leopard, warming her paws over the crackling flames.

 

Tai Lung eyed both her and his father for some time, debating and arguing with himself as to the wisdom and merits of his intentions. But he knew something had to give—the tension, the hatred and resentment, were so overwhelming it felt like an oppressive, dark blanket smothering them all, and he felt it would only take a tiny poke to smash through the cracked surface of calm and quiet, releasing all the pent-up aggression and fury boiling over in everyone.

 

He didn't know why this was happening…though in the back of his mind, some niggling little detail he couldn't remember told him he did in fact know…but something had to be done to smooth things over, to lighten the mood and take the edge off everyone's dark attitude. And the only way he could think to do so also seemed absolutely right to him—it was a kind and caring gesture for the woman he loved, and might possibly mitigate the hurt she'd experienced when she'd learned he and Shifu had reconciled.

 

Clearing his throat softly, uncomfortably, Tai Lung looked at the striped feline, then to the red panda, and then finally said, "I think this has gone on long enough. It's high time we had some cheer and happiness around here, instead of all this gloom and doom. And I know just the thing."

 

Crimson eyes shifted to regard him suspiciously; azure ones opened, filled with skepticism and condescension. "You do, do you?" Tigress said at last, open cynicism in her tone. "And since when have you become an expert on entertainment and leisure? Did you take up clowning when I wasn't looking?"

 

The snow leopard closed his eyes for a few moments, reining in his temper by both concentrating on slow breathing and pressing the anger down into the pit of his stomach, just as his father had taught him. "Just…bear with me here," he answered when he was under control again. "I think the two of you should have some father-daughter time."

 

" _What?_ " Shifu cried, both ears pricking high as he twisted about to stare at his son.

 

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" Tigress snapped at the same time, clenching both fists at her sides.

 

Tai Lung held up his paws for silence. "No, no, listen. I've spoken with both of you enough, and I've heard the tales from Po and Viper. I know that after…what happened with me, you couldn't show love and affection again, Master. At least, not to the extent you did when I was a boy." He met Shifu's cold gaze but did not flinch. "I understand what happened…and I can't begin to say how sorry I am for causing it, even when I didn't mean to. But, er…I think it's high time you open up your heart again, Father. We…we found a way to reconnect."

 

He glanced aside at Tigress, whose gaze was equally as flinty and incensed, but despite this he decided to go out on a limb. "I don't see why you two shouldn't be able to do the same. You adopted her, which means you must have seen something in her, a reason to love her as your own. You simply…were afraid she'd turn out like I did. But I don't think you have to worry about that, not now."

 

In spite of himself, his voice became rougher and harsher as he allowed himself to think about what Shifu had done to Tigress. In some ways it was not as bad as what he'd done to Tai Lung…but in other ways, it was worse. "In fact, I think you're more in danger of losing her now, and making her far too hard and vicious, than you would be if you showed her even a drop of kindness and affection!"

 

The accusation and insult of this reprimand hung in the smoky night air for several long moments. Everyone else who was still awake, even Monkey, seemed so stunned by how he was pulling no punches, or else absolutely agreed with his analysis, that they were speechless. He heard Tigress shift beside him, her clothing and fur rustling, but he didn't dare look aside to see how she was reacting—all his attention was riveted on Shifu. The red panda seemed torn between anger and regret, sorrow and burgeoning ire. But after a few more moments, the old master simply sighed, looked away, and said, "No."

 

" _No_?" Tai Lung burst out furiously. "What do you mean, _no_?" Half-rising from the ground, now he chanced a look at the striped feline—and the look of utter heartbreak mingled with fury on her face stabbed him, harsh and cold, in the gut.

 

Shifu held up a tiny hand. "It is not that I don't see the value in what you advise, Tai Lung, nor the wisdom in your words. It is that now is not the time for such things. We are about to enter into battle with a complete monster, like nothing we have ever faced before—as you yourself so eloquently explained. We cannot afford to let ourselves become distracted by sentiment, not with our lives on the line and so much at stake. If anything, we should be focusing on our training, especially yours. Besides…"

 

And here his face fell. "This is not something which can be easily rectified. Certainly not in the middle of nowhere. How, precisely, am I supposed to bond with Tigress here? Even if she were the sort to enjoy tea houses and shopping, there is none of that in the wilderness. And a little hug, a kiss, and a few kind words aren't going to make up for twenty years of neglect." His expression became bleak, even as his voice broke.

 

Even though, on some level, he knew Shifu was right, he wasn't about to sit still for this. It was simply more of the same evasion, the avoidance of responsibility and mask of pride that the panda had resorted to all his life, especially where Tai Lung was concerned. Growling, he couldn't help himself—he cracked his knuckles and shook a fist at his father.

 

"D'you _ever_ stop to think about anyone but yourself, Shifu? This is _exactly_ the time to do this! How can we go up against any enemy when we're at each others' damn throats all the time? D'you _like_ making people hurt, people who you're supposed to love, by treating them with such contempt? I thought you'd learned something…how can you sit there and act like you're better than us?" He actually found himself shaking, not just with anger but with disgust. "And people call _me_ a monster…well, it takes one to make one…"

 

He was about to say more—although a part of him realized he might just have said too much—when he was interrupted by a hateful, venomous growl from the other side of the fire, and then Tigress was standing there, her silhouette looming between Shifu and the flames. "Forget it, Tai Lung. You're wasting your breath. I gave up on getting anything decent and fatherly out of him years ago."

 

Someone gasped—he thought it was Viper—but it was clear Shifu was just as stunned. "What…how can you—"

 

"Just like this," she snarled, striding a few paces closer until she stood directly over the red panda's seated form. "Now isn't the time? It's _never_ the time for you, is it? When have you _ever_ bothered to try and reach out to me, get to know me, love me?" Her wrath seemed to only be matched by her agony—her voice so thick and twisted by grief and pain that it sounded as if her tongue had swollen.

 

"How would you even _know_ if a kiss or a hug would do any good, when you never even tried one? You never even said 'good job' when I mastered something in the kwoon—all you ever did was tell me what I did wrong, what to do better next time! I wouldn't even know I'd mastered my own damn kung fu style if Oogway hadn't been nice enough to tell me. At least Tai Lung got some love and affection from you before you started that stupid 'you must be strong' mantra—I didn't even have that."

 

"Tigress…" Crane spoke up uncertainly. "Maybe you should…"

 

But she ignored the bird, for she seemed to be on a roll. "You _never_ took me out to do anything, let alone what most fathers and daughters do together! I was practically a prisoner in the Jade Palace! You took me in, you taught me how to control my strength, but that was it. What was I, just another kung fu prodigy to you? You adopted me because I showed such promise, you wanted to have a student to replace the one you'd lost?"

 

Tigress snarled, wiping away tears from her cheeks, glaring down at the panda. Tai Lung, watching in mingled approval and despair, was just as distressed by the real anguish in her voice—what had he unleashed? Shifu, of course, seemed too frozen by his shock…and his guilt…to speak.

 

"And you did, didn't you? You got your wish," the striped feline whispered bitterly. "First me…and then Po. He was your new favorite…oh, you tore into him for being a fat, disgusting slob, but once you saw what he was truly capable of, once your master told you to believe in him, you treated him more like a son than you ever treated me like a daughter! And now…now you even have Tai Lung back, too. You've got everything you ever wanted, what do you even need me for? I've been left hung out to dry."

 

"That…that's not true…" Shifu interjected feebly.

 

"Isn't it?" she spat scathingly. "When the Wu Sisters hurt me, and everyone else offered their support…when Tai Lung and Po sat by my bedside, brought me food and medicine, did all they could to nurse me back to health, what did you do? More of the same old discipline and cruelty. And when you were trying your damnedest to make Po quit…you acted like it was all about Oogway ignoring me, that you were defending me when he didn't even seem to care about how skillfully I'd mastered kung fu, that I deserved the honor of the Dragon Scroll and he should see that. But you know what I think?"

 

She leaned down and stabbed a finger in Shifu's chest, rocking him back and shoving him across the ground into the boulder behind him. " _I_ think that it was just to soothe your own damn ego. Your pride was hurt, Master Oogway didn't choose someone you'd trained. That's all it was!"

 

Tigress was visibly trembling, though whether she was about to launch into her most powerful moves to batter Shifu to a pulp or collapse in a weeping heap, Tai Lung couldn't say. He tried unobtrusively sidling in her direction, though he was fairly certain she'd turn on him if he dared put a comforting arm around her, but she jerked her head up to skewer him with a deadly glare and he instantly froze in place.

 

"I was just another sign of your genius as a teacher, wasn't I?" she continued nastily. "A repository of the scrolls, nothing more. I wasn't even a person to you!" She pounded both fists against her chest as if to get at the heart within. "When's the last time you ever actually sat with me to talk? Just talk! Can you tell me what's my favorite color, or my favorite meal, or my favorite pastime? Can you tell me when you ever actually celebrated my birthday? Hell, do you even _know_ when's my birthday?"

 

"No one does," the red panda said faintly. "You were found wandering in the rubble of that earthquake, you didn't remember anything about your life before…Mrs. Fa didn't have any idea when you were born, just your age. So I celebrated the day I adopted you instead…"

 

"That isn't the point!" Tigress snapped. "Xiu was right about you…you didn't care about me. You never loved me. You never gave me a real family. You make me sick!"

 

"Tigress!" Viper burst out, her eyes wide and shining even in the light of the faint sliver of crescent moon above. "How could you say such a thing?"

 

Ignoring her completely, the leader of the Furious Five gritted her fangs, every muscle in her frame knotted and tense, and for a moment it seemed she would actually attempt to punch the cringing form of her master and father. Then, abruptly, she whirled about, turning her back to him even as she growled over her shoulder. "You have _no_ idea how much I hate you right now…"

 

And with that, she stalked out of the firelight, from beneath the overhang, and ran with fleet-footed speed into the darkness of the desert.

 

For a few moments, no one moved, still too overcome by the poisonous things Tigress had said…by their horrible nature, and their blunt, undeniable truth. Viper slowly slithered over to Shifu's side, wrapping her tail gently around his sloped shoulders. "I…I'm so sorry, Master. I'm…I'm sure she didn't mean it."

 

"No, she did," the panda said very quietly, like a child who'd just been severely punished by his parents. "And she's absolutely right…"

 

Again, silence reigned. Then, as Crane coughed discreetly and Mantis nervously rubbed his pincers together, Tai Lung rose and turned away from the fire as well. Refusing to comment on the situation—for in his opinion, everything that needed to be said had been, on both sides—he instead took the same path as Tigress. "Don't worry," he rumbled softly. "I'll find her, make sure nothing happens to her." And before anyone could stop him, he went down on all fours and leaped out into the shadows, streaking after the vanished feline.

 

Even though she had a head start on him, it didn't take him very long to catch up with Tigress—not only was he faster than she was since she seemed to be sticking to only two legs, but her ankle still gave her twinges now and then which slowed her up. So it was that after about fifteen or twenty minutes, he was right behind her as she scrambled and leaped up the tumbled scree and along the rocky cliff face toward a ledge about fifty feet from the desert floor. Judging by the depression in the mountain behind it, there was likely a cave to be found there.

 

Although the incline was completely vertical just below the edge of the shelf, it was mere child's play for him to scale it—just as he had with the stalactites in Chorh-Gom, he simply dug his claws into the stone, gathered his haunches, and leaped several feet upwards, only to bury them in with loud, sparking scrapes and then repeat the action. And this was a much less dangerous locale. Soon enough he had grasped the lip of the ledge, and with a low grunt of effort, backflipped up onto the flat expanse of rock. Barely breathing hard, the snow leopard peered into the mouth of the cave, fairly certain what he would see.

 

He was right. Leaning against one dark wall as if she would otherwise topple over, Tigress was shielding her eyes—not from the light of the stars, which was barely bright enough to illuminate her striped features, but from his sight. Because, of course, she was crying. He had known, as well as he knew his own heart, that aside from wanting to get away from Shifu and the looks on the Five's faces, it had been demoralizing and deeply upsetting to lose control like that—and for them to see her cry.

 

Like himself, Tigress hated to appear weak, vulnerable, or anything but stoic and unyielding under pressure. Which was why he knew, if anyone should seek her out, whether to bring her back, comfort her, or simply make sure she wasn't alone, it should be him.

 

Of course, as soon as she realized who was with her, the tiger angrily and wildly whirled about, lashing out at him with her claws. " _Damnit!_ Get away from me! I don't want to see or talk to anyone, least of all _you_!"

 

Tai Lung had been expecting this too, and so even as she swiped at him, he ducked and dodged aside with all the grace and ease that always took others by surprise when they judged him by his bulk. Coming back up under the arc of her swing, he neatly grasped both of her wrists to keep her from trying again at closer range, but in all other respects he left her free to move about and back away from him should she wish. "I know you don't. But you still need to."

 

"What the hell would _you_ know about it?" she snarled. "And anyway, this is all your fault! None of this would have happened if you'd just kept your big mouth shut and minded your own business."

 

Pressing his mouth into a grim line, the spotted feline shook his head slowly. "All of that was bound to come out sometime, you know that just as well as I do. I happen to think it's better to let it out now, before it can cause serious harm later on. As it is, you've had that bottled up inside you—what, twenty years now?" She said nothing, but she didn't have to.

 

"He needed to hear that—the harsher and more in-your-face, the better. In case you'd forgotten, he's just as stubborn and unchanging as I am…if he's going to learn anything, and try and treat you the way you deserve to be, he has to be hit over the head with it." He chuckled softly. "Where's Oogway's staff when you need it, hmm?"

 

Tigress still wouldn't meet his gaze, her own sullen, moody, and hurt; if he weren't still holding her wrists, he was sure she'd be crossing her arms sulkily. "Maybe he did…but you still had no right to force the issue."

 

Tai Lung frowned, staring intently at her eyes shining in the darkness. "You're welcome," he said sardonically. When she finally jerked her head up to glare at him, he continued, "I was only trying to help, you know. I may still be new at this, and not very good at it, but that's no reason to bite my head off. After everything that's happened…I just thought the least I could do for you and Shifu was to bring you closer together. The way he and I have been getting lately."

 

She shook herself, tried to pull away by main force as her voice rose. "Well congratulations, you only made things worse! You just don't get it, do you? Shifu's been neglectful of me all my life. He's not going to change overnight anymore than you have! You can't force him, you can't coerce him, that's just not how things work. He'll never be a proper father to me…certainly not because you make him. The whole thing is just a waste of time and a very bad idea."

 

Finally she managed to break free, if only because he was so stunned—by her ingratitude, her venomous nature, and her pain that he felt completely helpless to assuage—that he let his grip go slack. As she stumbled back across the cavern and sat down abruptly on a rock, Tigress muttered, "If you really cared about me, you would have stayed out of it, and let me handle it myself."

 

"Oh really?" In spite of himself, even though he knew he shouldn't, the snow leopard found himself growing severely annoyed all over again. "Handle it yourself? Yes, you seem to be doing spectacularly well for yourself so far! If I'd left it up to you, you'd still be nursing that old grudge years from now like it was your mother's—"

 

Before he could finish what would have been an admittedly vulgar simile, the striped feline was on her feet again, and she had struck him another slap, this blow just as hard as the one she'd dealt him in her bedroom. Staggered, he clapped a paw to his cheek, more to check and make sure she hadn't drawn blood than to rub at the soreness—he'd had worse blows, and he'd deserved this one.

 

Still, he couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice as he smirked at her. "Strike a nerve? That's something I excel at, in case you'd forgo—"

 

This time she backhanded him across the other cheek, and he growled as he caught her paw again, squeezing tightly. "Look, princess, this is getting rather old. I'm sorry if what I'm saying hurts, but you know damn well it's the truth. You hide from your emotions, same as I always have. And you can put up with so much! You're like the Jade Mountain, you know…nothing seems to faze you. It's one of the many reasons I admire you."

 

"Could've fooled me," Tigress snapped. But a great deal of the venom had bled out of her voice, leaving it tired and resentful…and at least she relaxed slightly in his grip, not seeming prone to another strike any time soon.

 

Tai Lung sighed, once again forced his temper back down, and modulated his voice to a softer, though no less urgent, tone. "Look. I thought we'd already been through this. Of course I care about you. Or did it slip your mind all the things I've done for you lately? Things I didn't have to do, things I did because they felt right at the time or I actually liked doing them, not because I was trying to get anything from you?"

 

He lifted his massive paw to brush gently against her cheek, tried not to let the pain show on his face when she flinched away even as he cupped her chin so she couldn't look away. "Your doll…the song I played for you…our little domino game?" With each word his voice became softer still, and he leaned in close to gaze at her earnestly…inhaling her spicy fragrance.

 

"I…remember." Almost against her will, she leaned into his paw, purring just as softly, though also roughly. "It was…it was nice. Like nothing anyone's ever done for me before. But…it doesn't mean…you can't just assume…"

 

Taking her other paw in his, he brought it up to his face so he could kiss the backs of her knuckles as he peered at her over the top of them. "I'm not assuming anything. Just saying…I thought you understood by now, whatever else you believe, I truly do care for you. And I'm sorry for not consulting you first about Shifu." He paused, then quirked the corner of his mouth. "Forgive me for not putting it to a committee first."

 

"I am not a—" Her almost automatic response faltered as she pulled away slightly and narrowed her eyes to regard him even more accusingly. "You care for me. Okay. But _not_ as much as you do Mei Ling."

 

Tai Lung groaned, slapping his paw to his forehead and running it down over his face. He should have known she wouldn't let this go. If he made it back to the Valley in one piece, he would have to have a stern talk with the mountain cat—making Tigress jealous might well have helped jumpstart their romance, but it was also far too easy to turn the striped feline into the woman scorned.

 

She was still speaking, however, and with every word her voice rose to a louder and more disturbing growl. "How…how dare you…how can you still claim to love me, when you've been dallying with that, that—"

 

"Tigress, no—that's not it, you've got it wrong—"

 

"Have I?" Now she was the one pushing him back, accentuating each of her points with a forceful stab of her finger into his chest. "So you've got a good side, you can be sweet and charming when you want to be. But you're also a chauvinistic, womanizing bastard! If it isn't me or Mei, it was that slut Jia…just a slight bit of attention from a girl, and you start strutting about, thinking you're the epitome of perfection and the gods' gift to womankind!"

 

Rubbing at his chest, he couldn't keep back his instant retort. "What d'you expect me to do, when you're so damn difficult to please?"

 

"Forgive me for not taking off all my clothes and lying down at the drop of a hat!"

 

"With an attitude like that, you won't be getting any even if you _do_!" Even as he snarled at her, he took a step closer and noticed, intriguingly, that this time she didn't back away from him. Perhaps it was only because she was so caught up in her righteous anger, or because she didn't want to lose face by seeming to cower before him. Still…

 

"If you're so into women, you should just go and whore yourself out!" Tigress sounded not only offended, but distressed at this possibility.

 

"Better not let Mantis hear you say that," Tai Lung growled. "He might just take you up on it and start lining the ladies up for me. And I'm not into all women, just you!"

 

"You're just saying that to charm yourself a way into my pants." But as he grabbed her by the arms rather roughly, very tempted to try and shake some sense into her, he noticed that this time, she didn't struggle—that even though she seemed as angry as ever, she wasn't fighting him off any more. Could it be…?

 

Jutting his jaw out proudly, the snow leopard shook his head. "Of all the things you've told me, all the things you've accused me of, that is the worst I've ever heard. Whatever you think of me, that is _not_ all that I want. You're quite right, I most likely could get that, from Jia or Mei, without even having to bat an eye. But there's much more to me than that…and I think too highly of you to demand such a thing of you."

 

He paused, and then he leaned in close again to inhale her scent…to push her back against the wall behind her and hold her in place as he rumbled deep in his chest. "Besides…unless I'm quite mistaken, I don't _need_ to charm myself into your pants. You're already more than half willing to take them off all by yourself…aren't you, Master Tigress?"

 

He expected her to have another snappy retort, or to roar at him in a renewed, vicious hatred—at the very least, to once again deny what both of their bodies were telling them, what he could feel in the violent quivering deep within her taut muscles. But instead…she simply looked away. "You're just proving my point, you know."

 

"No," he disagreed. "I'm proving who it is I really love." And without hesitation he pressed his muzzle to hers, fiercely, angrily, heatedly.

 

The passion that exploded inside him was even more intense and intoxicating than what he'd felt in Yunxian, and it made his dream of almost two months ago seem like a poor, pale shadow in comparison. He truly felt as if he were going to melt into her, and she into him, until they were one being…but at the same time, he was aware of just how solid, rigid, and firm their bodies were against each other. He felt the heat burning inside him, as if his _chi_ were about to burst from deep inside to surround both of them in a swirling, raging corona of scorching fire…but he also felt a lesser though still undeniable heat inside of Tigress.

 

After a few minutes that felt like a lifetime, he broke the kiss…panting, sweaty, and flushed with pride and satisfaction. He gazed down at the woman he loved—and didn't know how to read what he saw in her eyes. Disbelief? Amusement? Scorn? He didn't have long to wait, though, as soon enough she placed one paw on her hip and sneered at him. "You call that a kiss?"

 

Tai Lung would have laughed—if he weren't immediately caught up in another meeting of lips, tongue, and breath that was somehow even more powerful and exciting than the last. To his shock and embarrassment, it was his knees that buckled this time around, though he managed to catch himself with one paw against the cavern wall. Absently, he noticed the rock was still warm, not having lost the heat of the baking day as yet…would the floor of the cave be the same, he wondered?

 

All too soon, that kiss was over as well, and Tigress's slender, feminine chest was heaving just as much as his was. "There. Maybe that…will teach you."

 

He forced himself to make a face. "And where did you learn that, one of Viper's romance novels? Let me show you something I saw in the village once…"

 

And again he ground himself up against her—being quite sure his groin met hers so there could be no doubts as to how well he responded to her—while this time, he slipped his rough tongue into her muzzle, panting even more needfully as he explored each and every inch of the wondrous privilege that had been granted to him. By the time that little sortie was complete, neither of them was attempting to restrain or hold the other back anymore; instead, their arms had slipped around each other, naturally, as it felt so right to do so. And he was almost certain he would burn up from the inside out if he couldn't have her.

 

Yet still…somehow…he restrained himself. "What do you think of that? Good enough? Still think it's Mei who I'm after?"

 

Tigress gazed up at him, eyes shining and mouth parted in mingled surprise and pleasure. Then she smirked openly. "Hmmm, I don't know. The one before that wasn't quite right, I think I need another sample to be sure."

 

He grinned at her, even as he cupped her face in both his paws. "Are you as turned on as I am?"

 

"As much. Probably more," she teased.

 

"Well then," the snow leopard remarked, trying to sound casual and hoping he didn't betray his nervousness, "we should do something about that, don't you think?"

 

For answer, she kissed him yet again—and this time, he knew for sure she wanted this as badly as he did, that her passion was just as strong as his, and that absolutely nothing would stand between them. Hungrily, fervently, more roughly than before, Tai Lung worked his lips against hers, his tongue dancing and twirling rhythmically around her own inside her muzzle as he gripped her shoulders from behind.

 

He lost track after that for what felt like hours but could only have been a few minutes, punctuated by growls, moans, and soft snarls. Twice he felt a solid thud of stone—once as he shoved her into the wall and held her trapped between it and his sculpted chest, and the other time when she turned the tables and shoved him back in turn. He only pulled free of her lips when he needed to breathe—but even then he ran a trail of soft kisses down the curve of her neck, nibbling and gnawing at it in a possessive eagerness, and he only paused when he felt her paws sliding down across his abdomen to work at the cinch of his belt.

 

"Mmm…stop, Tai Lung. We need to…get our clothes off."

 

"Hhhrrr…not a chance. To hell with…clothes…"

 

For a moment he felt Tigress's body shake, and he couldn't tell if it was with ecstasy, fury, or imminent laughter. "You idiot." Strangely, the words were said fondly, not as an insult. "Do you really want us to go back to the others with them completely shredded?"

 

A brief pause as he digested this. Then: "Damn. Fine, you win."

 

An artful smile curled her lips. "About time you acknowledged that. I always do."

 

"We'll just see about that," he purred suggestively.

 

Then they were working swiftly at clasps, ties, and hooks, and despite the mutual agreement not to leave themselves without the proper covering when they returned to camp, it was a very near thing. Both of them were so insistent, so on edge, so aching and yearning to finally take this next and most anticipated step in their relationship that in truth, they almost did rip the clothes right from their bodies. Tigress's vest was doffed with extreme hurry; Tai Lung's shirt came off so swiftly it left his fur in a rough, tangled mess; and while their pants came down readily enough, there was a very awkward moment when each nearly tripped in the pooled fabric at their ankles.

 

But finally there was nothing more between them except fur and skin, and in the wan moon and starlight he could see at last that the beauty he'd always assumed of her form barely scratched the surface of what she truly called her own. From the look on Tigress's face, she seemed just as impressed with him, something which at any other time would have made the snow leopard quite smug—only this time, all he felt was wonder, reassurance, and yes, love.

 

Their clothes were on the rocky floor, making a perfect bed for them to lie upon. And with yet another lustful kiss and a grinding of their hips in gyrating harmony— _Ah yes, that feels **so** much better, so…free!_—both felines sank downwards, arms encircling and legs entwining, paws kneading and bodies pressed as close as was physically possible. They met…they merged…and then both of them were lost to euphoria…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I did make a few references and quotes in this chapter, most of them are either so vague or so well-known they don't need mentioning. _Star Wars_ and _Cheers_ come to mind. Oh, and of course the reference to Monkey having to send money to his family in Sichuan is another shout-out to "Monkey in the Middle".


	28. Haunted

 

 

Under the shade of a brightly painted awning, as much to avoid the baking heat of the summer sun as to remain concealed from and unknown to the villagers of the Valley of Peace, three slim figures were seated in the roughly paved courtyard of what was reputed to be the best noodle shop in town.

 

Despite the weather, they kept their dark cloaks wrapped close, something which caused at least two of them to pant heavily as their lusciously thick, spotted pelts became soaked with sweat—because the last thing they wanted was for anyone to discover who they truly were and reveal to those in the Jade Palace that they were so close, so out in the open. To prevent that, to ensure their mission was a success…and that they did not fail Heian Chao…anything could and would be endured.

 

And yet not all of them seemed quite as fixated upon said mission. The eldest of the three had her pale blue eyes trained on the dithering, scatterbrained goose puttering around behind the counter—observing every detail so as to perfectly memorize his routine, the layout of the bare-timbered, old-fashioned kitchen, whatever information would be needed for their next foray.

 

The middle sister was raptly and clinically watching the constantly shifting clots of people milling about amongst the crowded tables, discerning patterns in their activity so as to compile who the regulars were—as well as when they came, how long they stayed…when the goose would be alone and vulnerable in his restaurant.

 

But as for Wu Jia—she wasn't even paying attention to anything around her, because she was avidly and happily devouring the menu.

 

"Oooo, eggplant in garlic sauce! You don't see that every day…and kung pao tofu, and sautéed spinach, and…" She looked up from the surprisingly varied choice of selections and fixed her round violet eyes on her sisters in excitement. "Oh, I just can't decide! Could I maybe have a little of each? Please?"

 

Xiu gave her a long, flat look. "Do I _look_ like I'm made of yuan? Besides, we have much more important things to worry about than food. Or did it slip your mind we still have a job to do?" Her voice lowered and darkened. "And we _never_ fail to get our marks…"

 

For several moments, all was silent, save for the rest of the chatter filling the courtyard. Then Jia tried again. "But…they have salmon…"

 

" _No!_ "

 

"Awww, you're no fun," she grumbled, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms in a huff.

 

"We're not here to have fun," Xiu snapped. Then her expression shifted to one of diabolical, fiendish delight. "Well… _I_ am, anyway." Narrowing her eyes to slits, she peered back toward the goose, who was somehow supporting a whole stack of steaming bowls of noodles that reached almost to the ceiling, carrying the swaying column out to the crowded tables. "And don't you forget it…" The harsh, utter frigidity in her tone was as fearsome and sobering as the cruel set of her narrow face.

 

But then…Xiu had always scared her, even when they were little girls. _And that_ , Jia reflected sadly, submissively, _is how she got to me in the first place. Why even now, I can't help but do everything she says, down to the last detail…because I know just what she'll do to me if I don't obey._

 

Not that their mother, Wu Qing, had not been intimidating, disturbing, even frightening at times. But there had always been something different about Xiu, even from the youngest age. Something single-minded, harsh, and malicious…something amoral, beyond any capacity for right and wrong, good and evil—simply unrelenting, determined to win at any cost, and to be the best at whatever she chose to set her sights on. This seemed to be because she took that natural feline belief in one's own superiority and raised it to an unassailable level. Couple that with a rather monstrous propensity for dealing out pain and death, and…

 

Jia still remembered, with a shudder, coming upon Xiu when they were cubs—using a set of eye beads to focus sunlight so as to burn ants and other insects to a crisp. The sadistic, twisted smirk on her little muzzle as she watched them smolder and sizzle and smoke had repulsed and terrified Jia—but that had only been the beginning, as their mother encouraged her eldest daughter to nurture and develop this side of herself, suggesting instead that she should use honey to attract the ants onto a helpless victim, one who would then be eaten alive. Xiu had thoroughly enjoyed that…

 

Chun, who had initially been just as upset and nauseated by this behavior, was eventually trained by Wu Qing to coolly detach herself from all emotions so as to be objective and, of course, unmoved by the plights or pleas of others—perfect for her future as an assassin. But Jia had always been different…more like her half-sister Mei Ling, something which had disgusted Xiu and infuriated their mother.

 

While the other two had followed in Wu Qing's paw prints and trained in the art of kung fu as well as studied the craft and lore of the assassin and ninja, the youngest sister had always found herself staring to the horizon, wondering what lay beyond it and wanting, more than anything, to see it. Kung fu did interest her, of course, but more as a means to an end—an excuse to travel the lands, so that while helping the poor, the needy, and the defenseless she could explore as much as her heart desired.

 

She'd even entertained the notion of becoming a merchant, traveling the Silk Road westward, seeing exotic new lands, meeting strange people and encountering unusual cultures and customs. She had been raised to believe she could master kung fu and become a hired killer so famous, respected, and feared that all would come begging her favor and paying the highest price for her services—something not exactly proper for ladies in China, who depending on their station in life were either expected to become delicate blossoms of the Imperial Court or to slave away as laundresses, seamstresses, mothers, and subservient wives for all their days. So it hadn't been difficult for her to dream beyond that, to seek out other, even less traditional choices for her life.

 

Yet in the end, those hopes and dreams had been dashed…and that too could be laid at Xiu's feet.

 

Jia ducked her head and shaded her eyes with one paw, trying to be as inconspicuous and unnoticed as possible, as her thoughts ran down the same well-worn course they had off and on for the last twenty years—ever since the invasion of the Huns and the Sisters' departure from Li Dai. Their father had still been alive then…in fact, that had been crucial, a key part of Xiu's plans.

 

For when the eldest snow leopardess had come to her siblings with the offer from the Hun chieftain—more than enough to keep them comfortably well off and able to afford any weaponry, poisons, or stolen kung fu scrolls they wished to lay their paws on—Jia had of course refused to be a party to it. She was willing to perform some acts of questionable morality if it would help her make a name for herself, free her from the limited roles of women in society, or give her access to the riches she'd need to maintain her youthful beauty. But even she had her limits! The Huns were ruthless, cruel barbarians, and while it might seem hard for some to believe, Jia was a loyal daughter of the Empire.

 

That was before Xiu threatened Wu Xuan, however. Unlike Chun and especially Xiu, Jia had never borne any animus toward their father. In fact, there had been many times when he came to visit Mei Ling at the academy that she had taken advantage of his presence and slipped away to have some serious bonding time with him and her half-sister. And on other occasions, while traveling on missions for Master Hu or on her way home to attend Mother, she had used these pretexts to take side trips to visit him alone.

 

His wife, of course, had been decidedly cool toward her, but had eventually relented when she discovered Jia was neither emotionless nor heartless like her sisters. Many a night had been spent amid peals of laughter and platters of rich, hearty food, and Xu Mei had even whispered once, while embracing her, what a good girl she was and how very like Mei Ling—things her own mother had never bothered to say and refused to countenance, respectively. Her father, in turn, had reverently and with great ceremony given her his old scimitar, saying she had more need of it than he did and that his days as a warrior were done in any case.

 

So when her blue-eyed sister had calmly, matter-of-factly, and callously stated she would be paying a visit to Kunlun Shan, and leaving crumpled bodies and a bloody trail behind her, Jia's heart had turned cold in her breast…and suddenly, somehow, the fate of nameless soldiers she didn't know didn't matter to her anymore. Suddenly, it made much more sense to silently and obediently do whatever Xiu said, if it would keep their father alive and safe.

 

And that was how Jia began her descent into darkness…for of course, every time the assassins were hired for a job she found distasteful, immoral, or just plain wrong, all Xiu had to do was muse aloud, wondering what Wu Xuan was up to and how at his age, he must have lost the reflexes and instincts he would need to survive an unexpected ambush, and Jia would immediately fall back in line. As if to prove how expendable Jia was, or how ruthless she herself was, Xiu would also occasionally suggest turning her youngest sister over to the Huns or the Mongols to take their pleasures from her if she didn't cooperate.

 

On those occasions, Jia entertained some very explicit and unholy fantasies of sneaking into Xiu's room at night to garrote her, or perhaps simply impale her on her _dao_ saber. Of course, the eldest Wu Sister was far too quick and deadly, and too light of a sleeper, for Jia to truly attempt that. But it was fun to think about.

 

What had truly cemented her hatred, but also bound her inextricably to the life of an assassin and the service of her sister, was when Wu Xuan had, indeed, been killed. Because no matter what Chun, Mei Ling, or anyone else tried to tell her, Jia knew…as Xiu had nonchalantly, coldly, and unequivocally told her…that it was her fault he was dead.

 

Ever since fleeing Li Dai in the night, she had refrained from traveling to Kunlun Shan, to the home of Xu Mei and Wu Xuan—to keep them safe, she had told herself, but in truth she knew, secretly, it was to keep from having to face what she had become…and what they would think of her. What they would say to her face, should she present herself at their door and pretend nothing was wrong, nothing had changed. Yet when Mei Ling graduated from Li Dai with the highest honors ever known for a kung fu warrior, and then set out to master all one thousand scrolls the same as Tai Lung had before her—something no woman had ever accomplished—Jia had felt compelled to make the journey anyway.

 

Part of it was self-preservation: with her half-sister becoming ever more talented, impressive, and invincible on the field of battle, the truth about how she became a Wu Sister and why she followed Xiu's orders had to be imparted posthaste; if it wasn't, Mei Ling would likely track them down, and Jia herself would be killed before she could ever explain. But she had also wanted to congratulate Mei, if she was there…to apologize for her actions…and to simply see them again, one last time. So she had chanced it.

 

Secretly, where her sisters wouldn't see it, with their attention still distracted by the goose and his patrons, Jia wiped the tears that suddenly welled up from her violet eyes. _That was my failure, the worst mistake I ever made_.

 

Because, even though she'd been certain she escaped the inn where they'd been staying, and slipped away into the night without anyone being the wiser, Xiu had known. Even though she'd been careful to cover her trail and hide all traces of her passing, Xiu had somehow followed her. So that when she'd reached the cozy, thatched cottage nestled high in the snowy mountain peaks, when she had found her father out in the front yard, chopping wood and sharpening his axe on the whetting stone, and he had looked at her with the same love, kindness, and joy he always had—showing that as far as he was concerned, she was still his little girl and all was forgiven—both of her sisters had been watching her from the ledge.

 

And when she had taken the aged snow leopard in her slender arms, cradling him to her chest and resting her chin on his shoulder to purr softly in his ear…when she had whispered to him the last words he ever heard in life, 'I've come home'…she had a ringside seat for the horror that came next. It had all happened so quickly—one moment she'd been running her paws through his warm, beige fur, ready to lead him into the cottage for a steaming cup of tea…and the next, he'd stiffened against her leather vest and let out a strangled, horrified cry.

 

Even now, she could play through her memories with perfect clarity, as if it were only yesterday: the blood that trickled slowly and thickly down over her fingers; the hilt of the dagger—her _own_ dagger!—suddenly sprouting from the middle of his back like the seed of a deadly, awful flower; the spasms and twitching that went through his body as the poison on the blade did its terrible work; Xiu's conniving, satisfied smirk as she stood with one hand on her hip by the boulder from which she'd hurled the weapon; and the look of betrayal, anguish, and disappointment on Wu Xuan's face, as he'd gazed up at her before the light left his eyes forever.

_It was your fault, you know_ , Xiu had told her afterward, as she'd knelt in the snow by their father's body, weeping into her paws. _If you'd just stayed away from him, if you hadn't let him make you weak, I wouldn't have had to do that, and he'd still be alive now. And anyway, he couldn't be trusted. He was going to report us to the magistrate, you know. Turn us in to the Emperor's guards. His own flesh and blood. What a father, hmm?_

 

She hadn't wanted to believe it; even now, she still didn't believe it. The man she'd known had been honorable, even if he had disapproved of her choices in life he would have confronted her about it, demanded to know why she became an assassin, before he took such a drastic step. He would not have washed his paws of her. But in the end, it didn't matter; after what Xiu had done, she had known no one would ever believe she were not as black-hearted and wicked as her sisters, especially Xu Mei. After all, her own weapon had done the deplorable deed. Once Mei Ling found out, she wouldn't rest, would hunt them to the ends of the empire and beyond, until she received her well-earned vengeance.

 

And she couldn't even try to justify herself, to explain what truly happened. For she had later learned that Xu Mei had been the one to draw up the writ of treason and set the bounty personally on her head. She knew Mei would kill first and ask questions later. And even if this were not the case, Xiu had made it clear that any further forays to Kunlun Shan would have the same results—their half-sister, Xu Mei, their aunts and uncles and cousins, anyone related to them by even the smallest drop of blood, would meet the same fate until Jia understood her place.

 

Until she understood that to be an assassin was to be alone, and her future had been sealed. There was no going back. She was now one of the condemned, the unclean, anathema. No one would want her; no one loved her; if she left them, she would have nowhere to go, nowhere to belong. And it was all her own fault.

 

On some level, of course, she knew this all to be fabrication, a tissue of lies. But there was just enough truth mingled with the falsehood to give her pause. Her guilt also weighed on her conscience, buying her silence and her compliance. Her life would be forfeit if she ever tried to go home; why, even her old mother would turn her in to be executed in the main square of the Forbidden City if she tried showing up at her door—not out of any sense of justice, but as punishment for leaving the grand and glorious life of an assassin to become a pitiful and worthless screw-up who couldn't do what Wu Qing had taught her.

 

And there was no question that while she hadn't killed their father, it had been her decision to go and visit him that led to all that followed. In that sense, it was her fault. And ever since that day, out of fear as well as guilt, it had become easier and more simple to follow along and do as she was told. She was caught in this life and saw no way out…and it made her hate herself as much as she did Xiu…

 

A tap on her arm made Jia look up warily, instinctively tense. Chun gazed at her with a flat, unreadable look in her green eyes, which then slowly flicked to the side as she tilted her head, the movement barely perceptible. Following her sister's motions, she spied Xiu rising sinuously from her chair and walking in the direction of the open partitioned door leading to the noodle shop kitchen. None of the other patrons seemed to spare her a second glance, save for a few nervous and uncertain looks swiftly hidden behind menus or the hoods of cloaks.

 

While some had found it odd, even suspicious, that the three always went everywhere wrapped in their black garments, especially in the summer heat, no one seemed to have made the connection to their identities. While snow leopards were rare, they were not so unheard of that any encountered must obviously be the Wu Sisters. Then, too, the citizens of the Valley of Peace were so sheltered from the rest of China, it was entirely possible they'd never heard of the sisters—the Dragon Warrior's knowledge may have stemmed from his love of all things kung fu, a passion which stood out in this village where people seemed more interested in being protected by it than learning or living it. Or else the Furious Five told the panda.

 

In any event, the fact all snow leopards were reclusive and standoffish also may have contributed to why no one seemed to recognize them…so while some were still made distinctly uncomfortable by her presence for reasons they couldn't explain, none of them seemed to think the snow leopardess was anything but a customer going to compliment the chef (or complain to him).

 

And that was just what Xiu wanted them to think.

 

Jia's heart sank in her chest, even as she rose along with Chun to follow her eldest sister. She knew what was going on, she knew why they were here. Ever since Xiu had learned from a villager that the Dragon Warrior had grown up in this noodle shop, and that when he wasn't living at the Jade Palace he spent his time here cooking and serving, she had been determined to scope the place out.

 

If they could manage to catch the panda here, away from the protection of the Furious Five and their master, it would make their mission that much easier to fulfill. If not, they could still obtain all kinds of useful information about his background, his strengths and weaknesses…as well as, if it came down to it, use his adopted father as a bargaining chip, or a hostage. Jia knew this, but she didn't have to like it, and she didn't. Not one bit.

 

If it were Tigress, of course, she wouldn't mind. After all, Jia's little assignation in Tai Lung's bedroom, aside from helping to appease her urges, had been intended all along to lure someone from the Jade Palace out into the forest so they could be slain, or at least eliminated from the fighting for the foreseeable future. The fact it had turned out to be Tigress was just an added bonus as far as Jia was concerned. If threatening the striped feline could achieve the same end with the Dragon Warrior, she was all for it. _I saw him first, you know! Shouldn't I get first crack at that gorgeous slab of meat?_

 

Sadly, though Xiu seemed at least somewhat sympathetic to her plans for Tai Lung, how close she had come to losing to Tigress had made her wary of getting near the striped feline any time soon. Which meant that instead, they would once more be tormenting and terrorizing the innocent to get what Heian Chao wanted…

 

By the time Jia caught up with her sisters, both of them had slipped into the fairly ancient, white-walled kitchen and taken up flanking positions—Chun behind the serving counter, Xiu in the corner nearest the fireplace—leaving Jia with the task of watching the exits. Rolling her eyes, but privately grateful she wouldn't be required to either intimidate or directly threaten the noodle maker, she shut and bolted the door behind her and leaned casually against it, arms crossed—to the most unobservant viewer, simply reclining and lazily watching the proceedings.

 

But if anyone interrupted, or tried to interfere, she would immediately spring into rapid-fire action…yet she sincerely hoped no one did. The people of the Valley of Peace were not like the Wu Sisters' usual prey—they were genuinely kind, hard-working, gentle, and completely unthreatening. They weren't corrupt like politicians and courtiers, pugnacious and violent like the barbarian hordes, or clear and open enemies like the generals and other officials of the empire. They did not deserve the pain, suffering, and cruelty that Xiu demanded they deal out…

 

Glancing around the kitchen—noting with some surprise that not only was it quite warm, cozy, and homey, with a bare-beamed roof, plenty of crockery and shelves to spare, and even some rather festive lanterns of a lurid crimson, but that it also seemed rather small and cramped a place for a giant panda to grow up—Jia looked back abruptly when she heard the old goose's quavering, vapid voice.

 

"Oh, hello! Didn't see you there…what can I do for you ladies? Was there a problem with your order, or were you wanting seconds?" The bird chuckled, a sly grin on his bill, but then he fluttered his wings in slight agitation. "I'm sorry if you had to wait too long, I'm afraid my son isn't here today—ever so busy up at the Jade Palace, my boy is, _what_ a brave and strong kung fu warrior!—so I'm a bit short-handed. And this is the busiest hour of the day here…"

 

Xiu cut through his incessant babbling with a curt slice of one paw, even as she forced her muzzle into a semblance of a friendly, encouraging smile. "No, no, nothing like that, sir. In fact it was the Dragon Warrior we wanted to ask you about. We've heard _so_ much about him!" She batted her eyelashes disingenuously.

 

"Po?" The goose seemed befuddled and vague, but that might just be his usual state of mind for all Jia could tell. "Well, of _course_ you have, he's a big hero now! Getting so famous all over China, and I couldn't be prouder…" He tilted his tiny head to the side, until the coiled yarn hat he wore almost toppled off, a slightly suspicious cast to his face. "But what do you want to know about?"

 

Apparently the panda hadn't told him about who exactly had nearly killed him near Yunxian, or else the bird would be a lot less friendly and forthcoming. Good for Xiu's plans (and Chao's), but it made Jia frown even more darkly.

 

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," the blue-eyed snow leopardess said flippantly, as if the matter were of no moment to her at all. But her gaze was quite flinty, intent, and unyielding—she was determined to get answers. "I mean really, the story of how a noodle-making panda became the Dragon Warrior must be unique and utterly fascinating. Surely you have a little time to tell me all about it?" She made a show of looking around the kitchen. "Or will he be able to tell me himself? Does he come down here often?"

 

"Not as much as he used to," the goose said sadly, but then his voice turned surprisingly incensed and resentful. "First he was so badly hurt by those evil women, those cowardly Wu Sisters! Had to close the shop for a week so I could help Tai Lung take care of him, and then I was forever hurrying up and down those stairs, bringing him my old family recipe for ginseng, gingko, and eucalyptus soup…I'm getting far too old for such a climb, you know, almost threw my back out again. The lumbago, you know. But Mrs. Liu next door has this wonderful herbal remedy, thank goodness, you wouldn't believe…"

 

Jia was doing her level best not to burst out laughing at the inane prattle, to the point that giggles and peeps still escaped from behind her compressed lips, even as she marveled to herself: _Tai Lung? Taking care of the Dragon Warrior? Whatever happened to that violent killer with a predator's instincts we all know and lust for?_ Chun, amazingly, had actually allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up in a suggestive smile, which she concealed along with a soft chuckle behind her paw. And Xiu, naturally, was fit to be tied.

 

But the eldest Wu Sister somehow maintained her poise and the intrigued, enthusiastic demeanor she'd adopted even as she shaded her furrowed brow and shook her head with a minute groan of pain. "I _think_ we're getting a little off-topic here. If we could get back to Po? What is he doing up at the palace then? Is he still recovering?"

 

"Oh no no!" The scatterbrained cook slipped back on track without even blinking, smoothing out his apron and then crossing his wings over his stomach. "He's a real trooper, my boy. Hardy like a horse and strong as an ox! I might even have to hire one of each to take up the slack here while he's gone…" Xiu cleared her throat meaningfully.

 

"Anyway, he's been training, you know. Tells me about it whenever he can. I can't say I understand all the things he talks about, but it sounds like he's been learning oh so much. Especially from that lovely Master Tigress!" He grumbled, half to himself. "Not lately though, since I hear tell Master Shifu, Tai Lung, and the Five went on some kung fu journey out west—don't know why, no one ever tells me anything…" The slightly irritable expression left his face, and he leaned in conspiratorially, raising a wing to his bill to speak behind it. "Between you and me, I think they'd make such a _lovely_ couple, but the boy just won't show any interest. Shy, you know. Oh well…"

 

Now Chun was the one to almost burst out laughing, swiftly disguising it as a cough, and Jia couldn't hide the enormous grin on her muzzle any longer. But Xiu had dropped all pretense at familiarity and sweetness, instead leaning in with a fierce, hungry expression as she grabbed the goose by the front of his _pao_. "I don't care about that! You mean to tell me he's not only healed, he's already becoming a master, in such a short time?"

 

She turned aside, glaring, muttering more to herself than to her captive, and her disjointed tone and slightly unfocused eyes made her look even more deranged than usual. Jia took a step back. "How? How does he do it? What is his secret?"

 

"Uh…kindness, nurturing, and many home-cooked meals?" The bird shrugged uncertainly, his expression finally showing the wariness and fear it should have held from the beginning.

 

But before he could offer a better answer, or Xiu could shake one out of him, there suddenly came a loud, solid knock on the back door of the kitchen, and then a strong male voice called out peremptorily. "Ping? Hey, Ping? I got that replacement quern you ordered here—though I'd love to know how the old one got broken. Did Po drop it or somethin'…?"

 

Everyone froze in place, seeming uncertain what to do next—but while the goose simply hung limp and looked to be praying fervently for his life, and Xiu seemed to be weighing the various options of flight, killing her prisoner, staying silent and hoping the deliveryman would go away, or opening the door and killing him too, Jia exchanged a long look with Chun. For the first time she could remember in years, her sister's green eyes looked startled and stunned.

 

Prior to this, they had never managed to learn the goose's name—his identity hadn't been important to Xiu beyond his relationship with the Dragon Warrior, the few villagers they'd gotten directions from had only spoken of it as 'the noodle shop', and even the sign out front didn't mention the proprietor, only that it was the Golden Harvest Noodle Restaurant and the types of cuisine served within. Now that she'd heard the name, though, Jia couldn't believe her ears. _Ping? It can't be…okay, there are a lot of Pings in China, but even so…what are the chances that someone who lived in the Valley of Peace, who adopted the Dragon Warrior, and who was a goose for good measure, would have the same name? Bao and Li-Na said…_

 

While Jia's thoughts still careened around in disbelief and confusion, the situation suddenly changed. For, not having received any answer (since Xiu had swiftly clamped Ping's beak shut with one paw), the workman at the back door decided to take matters into his own hands and investigate the unnerving silence.

 

They only had the warning of creaking hinges, and then the wooden panel was swinging open to let a broad-shouldered, muscular figure step into the shadowy gloom of the kitchen. "Ping? You okay? What's the matter, get too busy with your customers again? I know, you sell your Secret Ingredient Soup faster than you can make it…"

 

He trailed off when he saw the strange tableau just out of sight of the serving counter, Jia and Chun posed like dressmaker's mannequins by the door to the courtyard and the slatted wooden stairs leading to the upper floor, respectively, while Xiu held Ping under her arm as if he were a badly-wrapped, feathered package. He paused, and then he strode forward into the light with a menacing air. "Who are you? And what the hell do you think you're doing with him?"

 

Jia only had a brief moment to realize the fellow was a bull by the impressive rack of horns he possessed, and another to notice that even beneath his common laborer's clothing he seemed to be, ah, rather beefy— _My, they grow them big here in the Valley, don't they?_ —before her eldest sister seemed to decide discretion was best. Setting Ping down and gently dusting off the goose's clothing, Xiu glanced at the stonemason with an absolutely false look of apology.

 

"Oh! Do forgive me, I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression. I'm afraid Mr. Ping just got a little bit…effusive about the Dragon Warrior, wouldn't keep quiet about him when all I wanted was to ask for seconds on that delicious soup of his. Isn't that right, sir?" Turning to look at the goose, with her back to the bull, she glared down darkly and fiercely, making it quite clear what she would do if he contradicted her.

 

"What? Oh…oh, yes. Of…of course. Yes, you know how I get, Zhuang. Can never have enough good things to say about Po!" Ping laughed, slightly disjointedly, and waved his wings at the snow leopardess. "This lovely girl asked me one little question about my boy, and off I went!" Flicking his eyes nervously to Xiu to make sure he was properly convincing, he added, "But you have a delivery for me, and they should really be going, so no harm done, right?"

 

"Of course not," Xiu purred reassuringly.

 

The bull—Zhuang—narrowed his eyes, as well he might, for while to judge from his menu Ping was an incredible cook, by comparison he had absolutely no talent at acting. But when the bovine spoke again, it was clear it wasn't just the situation that had him suspicious. "Your voice…do I know you from somewhere? You sure do seem awfully familiar…"

 

"Who, me?" Xiu giggled artfully. "No, I'm sure I'd remember meeting a strapping fellow like yourself. Anyway, I can see you're busy here, so…another time, handsome?" And with a wink, she sidled past the bull and out the back door, swiftly indicating behind her back for the others to follow her.

 

Those dark brown eyes stayed fixed upon them, staring out from beneath heavy brows, until all three of them had slipped into the alley behind the noodle shop and the door swung closed, cutting off his view. And a second after that, the veneer of politeness and gushing girliness vanished from Xiu's face and voice like expensive watercolors running in the rain.

 

" _Damn_ it! I almost had him…just a few more minutes alone with that goose, and he'd have been singing like a nightingale." Growling ominously, her paw twitching as if it longed to be gripping the hilt of her narrow dagger—which she particularly enjoyed slipping up beneath her victim's ribs—she stalked out into the street, wrapping her cloak close about her.

 

Chun, following along docilely and as unflappable as ever, raised one eyebrow at this behavior and then observed, "Not that I care if you kill every innocent who gets in our way, but why _didn't_ you silence that bull? He may have been large, but he was also outnumbered. We could have taken him."

 

Xiu shot her a withering look, her tone scathing. "I think you might be losing your edge, sister dear. In case you didn't notice, we were in a public place. Everyone saw us go into that brainless goose's kitchen, and not come out again. If a body mysteriously turned up there, all fingers would point straight to us, and then our mission would be compromised. No, far better to lie low, let that nosy neighbor forget about us, and then slip in again later when no one suspects us."

 

For a moment her eyes narrowed speculatively, then brightened with satisfaction. "He was right about one thing though…I think we _have_ met before, though where or when, I haven't a clue. Give me time, and I'll track it down…for now, we did at least learn what we came for. The panda barely leaves the palace these days—and right now he's up there all by his lonesome. The opportunity has presented itself, and now we can strike him easily."

 

"Wait, _what_?" Jia burst out before she could stop herself. Even as Xiu glared at her and Chun shushed her, the youngest Wu Sister lowered her voice to a whisper and peered around the street guardedly. This time of day there were few people out and about, between the oppressive heat of the sun and the many chores and jobs still to be done, but it never hurt to be careful. "What about Mei Ling? He didn't say anything about her going west…" She paused, then added. "And you heard what that guy called him! _Ping!_ That means—"

 

"I _know_ what that means," the blue-eyed feline snapped scornfully. "And it changes _nothing_. As for Mei…we can handle her. We always have before. Now come on…we have work to do."

 

But as she and Chun trailed along behind Xiu on the way back to the inn room they had rented to fetch their weapons, remaining well out of the line of fire should her temper and sadistic streak flare up again, Jia couldn't help but exchange a meaningful and worried glance with her green-eyed sister. Because completely aside from the prospect of trying to assault the Dragon Warrior right in the Jade Palace, and hoping that their triple tactics would be enough to give them a fighting chance against their half-sister, she knew that Xiu was absolutely wrong.

_It changes **everything**_ , she thought unhappily. _How can we possibly kill the panda now? And who'd have thought: Xiu goes and dangles information about Tai Lung's long-lost family in front of him…and it's actually Po's we know something about…?_

                                                                      

* * *

 

Rubbing wearily at her eyes with the back of her paw, Mei Ling yawned and tried to focus her mind on what she was doing—in the absence of both Master Shifu and Tigress, the mountain cat was handling all of the duties and major chores of the palace, ranging from overseeing Shen Zhuang's requisition orders and the work detail for the kwoon, to settling disputes in the village that the magistrate could not or would not handle, to inspecting the guard before sending them out on patrol of the Valley.

 

She'd had no idea how much there was to running the place—Shifu must be an absolute masochist when it came to work!—but in a way, she had welcomed the distraction. Yet now she found she couldn't focus on it anymore, and not merely because she was tired. It was because of the very thing she'd been trying to distract herself from.

 

Crane. Like all the other members of the Five, he had gone with Tai Lung and Shifu to answer that nasty piece of tripe, to take care of that despicable, inhuman killer once and for all. Even if the snow leopard hadn't spelled out, albeit with a certain vagueness, how dangerous this quest would be and what a wicked and cruel creature they would be facing, she would have known this. The goat who had died at Yunxian, and the many innocent villagers who had lost their lives here in the Valley, were a testament to that. With Tai Lung's testimony, of course, the threat was made all the clearer and greater—and so too was her fear.

 

The avian kung fu master was her dearest friend, but more than that, she loved him. Now, he might very well die on this excursion, never knowing how she felt. Never learning that the whole mess with the snow leopard was a charade to force Tigress's paw. Never understanding how sorry she was that she had so badly, if inadvertently, hurt him. Would she ever see him again? Would she be able to tell him the truth, what she would have said if Zeng's arrival hadn't interrupted them—that she loved him, not Tai Lung? Would he even believe her when she did?

 

Sitting in the chair at Shifu's desk (with her feet a foot or so off the floor, since it was sized for his diminutive height), Mei Ling buried her face in her paws and sighed, shaking her head. No one could believe her, or understand. Her own mother hadn't, when she explained it to Xu Mei, and the Wu Sisters—back when they were still on speaking terms—had mercilessly mocked and reviled her for straying outside her species, let alone falling for such a ridiculous, spindly-legged male. And so low-born!

 

None of them understood that she loved him for so much more than his appearance or his species. He was gentle and kind, intelligent and insightful, but most of all he was everything she believed a true hero should be: humble and unprepossessing, always willing to place the welfare of others over his own, sympathetic to others' problems, attentive and helpful, and above all, always determined to see justice done—but only in the most proper and fair manner. How could she not respect and appreciate that about him? Not to mention he was an incredible fighter and yet seemed completely unaware of this fact, at least when she first met him.

 

Now, of course, he knew he was quite skilled in his kung fu even if he repeatedly downplayed his abilities when compared to someone like Shifu, Tigress, or even Viper and Mantis. But it had been when he first responded to her encouragement by applying for Master Hu's training class…and especially after he was the only one to successfully complete the bull's course, when he claimed the red flag and she grasped his wing to hold it triumphantly aloft…that she had first felt these stirrings of affection turning into love. In fact if they hadn't been in public, cheered on by all the other students and training candidates, she would likely have pecked him on the cheek.

 

Yet she had never confessed the truth to him. Not because she feared any reaction or judgment from others, because she cared about her family's approval or Imperial censure—she already was doing things most men did not approve of, what was one more? And the great deeds she performed in the name of the empire more than offset any formal rejection or criticism, she felt. No, it was because…she was afraid of what his answer would be if she came clean to him.

 

Because why would someone like Crane ever wish to become attached to someone like her? She was such a natural at kung fu, so perfect as a fighter, righter of wrongs, and folk hero all across the empire, that she must seem like a paragon of virtue to him, something beyond his reach. And she came from a prestigious family, on both sides—her father Wu Xuan was from a long line of personal bodyguards to the Emperor, and her mother was descended from the ruling clan of Kunlun Shan.

 

Crane must think her a snooty rich girl, like the pampered palace maidens with their intricately woven Manchu hairstyles, porcelain-doll makeup, and bound feet. He must find her arrogant, disconnected from the common people like him, not worth praising on her lofty mountain top. It was the only reason she could think of why he never approached her, never broached the subject of love and marriage, only treated her like a friend and fellow kung fu warrior.

 

Besides, she had been too shy to mention it herself, too certain he would simply laugh at the notion of a bird and a cat linked romantically. She had waited for him to say something, and when he didn't, she'd assumed he must have his eye on someone else. Or perhaps he was devoted exclusively to kung fu, and so had sworn himself to being a perpetual bachelor.

 

Or could it be that maiden aunt of his, who had always been such a terror when it came to restricting his movements or allowing him any independence and free will at all? She'd fought quite vocally when Crane tried to enter Master Hu's class, only relenting when the bull himself had demanded that she let him have such a promising student with such potential train with him. And Mei Ling often had the feeling Crane had come to work as a janitor at Li Dai in the first place to escape out from under her beady eyes…

 

The mountain cat had tried proving her theory in the years since they had both graduated from Li Dai—if Crane truly were waiting until he no longer depended on his aunt for support and could do whatever he wished with his life, then perhaps he would finally approach her. But all the times Mei had contrived to bring herself within hailing distance of the Valley of Peace as she pursued fame, honor, and noble service to those in need of her help, the waterfowl had never once sent her a letter, let alone visited her in person.

 

It was possible, she supposed, that the notoriously strict Shifu had not allowed any congress with the outside world, let alone possibly scandalous flirtation with a female, and even Oogway was aged enough to be more hidebound by traditional morals than might seem likely on the surface.

 

All she knew was, she had made every attempt short of coming right out and telling him that he was the only man she wanted. There had been others over the years who caught her eye, and still others who attempted to romance her when they learned how respected and admired she was. And of course Tai Lung was incredibly handsome, well-built, and courageous. But in the end, none of her would-be suitors had treated her with the decency and courtesy that Crane always had…and as for the snow leopard, while he might have charisma and sheer animal magnetism in his favor, in the end there was one thing he didn't have that Crane did: an utter lack of pompous posturing.

 

Tai Lung would have been fun for a fling, or even a fairly serious love affair that would leave both cats panting and sweaty in their beds. But in the end, that was all it would ever be; though she respected him as a warrior, he didn't have that self-effacing, endearing sweetness that Crane did. He didn't have the quiet wisdom and gentle concern, the ability to be objective and diplomatic; instead of watching and listening, contemplating all angles before stating a strong position, and defusing tension by being demure and soft-spoken, he would be more likely to barge in, force his way into a situation and shove down everyone's throats his unilateral decision as to how it should be resolved.

 

Not something she wanted in her future mate. And in any case, Tai Lung was absolutely smitten with Tigress, and that was that.

 

It didn't even matter to her that she couldn't have children with Crane; if the subject ever came up, she knew there were a fair number of orphanages from which they could adopt, not to mention the unfortunately significant number of children left without families thanks to natural disasters, plagues, invasions, famine…the list was endless. And if the bird didn't want to be a father, that was fine with her too—kung fu was her life as much as it was his.

 

As long as she had the freedom to go where her desires took her, and weren't confined to the Jade Palace—and she would grant him the same right, and not insist he accompany her everywhere she went and thus abandon his companions among the Five—she knew their relationship could work, no matter what the naysayers thought to the contrary.

 

Yet now it was too late. She had waited too long, made one too many assumptions, and driven him away with her seeming devotion to Tai Lung. Even if she told him the truth when he returned, in such a way as to not alienate Tigress or ruin things for her and Tai Lung, somehow Mei Ling had the feeling Crane would never forgive her for keeping him uninformed for so long. That she had presumed he would love her simply because of their long association, that they could pick up where they left off and even go on to the next step after so long apart, and that he would go beyond the boundaries of propriety to court someone who was so obviously dismissive of manners and class, someone who believed she could flout all the mores of society if she wished, only to turn around and adhere to them only when it suited her.

 

She thought she could have it all, the free and uninhibited lifestyle so few women had as well as the love of a good man who would support her in whatever she did, patiently waiting for her to come home after she finished dispensing justice if he wasn't doing so at her side. But clearly, that wasn't meant to be.

 

It was too late, and she had lost him.

 

Looking up at last and wiping away her tears, Mei Ling glanced sidelong at the silk painting she'd hung beside the desk, so she could see it always as she worked. Her father Wu Xuan, as he had looked in his youth: slender, svelte, lithe but well-defined in his musculature; clad in the studded armor and bracers he'd worn as a member of the Imperial Guard, complete with his prized scimitar that he had mistakenly given to Wu Jia in the years between Mei's graduation and his murder; and oddly enough, a pair of trousers almost the same hue as Tai Lung's favorite, though that might have been because it was a color favored in royal circles. The artist had captured well his expression, which mingled cockiness and ferocity with honor and nobility.

 

 

 

"Oh Baba…what do I do? I know what you'd say, you'd tell me to always follow my heart. But what if Crane doesn't want me anymore, or never did? What if I've hurt him too much to be forgiven? I…I don't know if I can face that…"

 

She was still staring at his portrait, as if expecting it to spring to life and give her the answers she sought, when there came a sudden fluttering of feathers and a loud squawk from the window of the office. She whirled around to stare at the bird sitting on the sill, panting. "Zeng? What is it, what's wrong?"

 

In the week and a half the Furious Five, Tai Lung, and Master Shifu had been gone, she and Po had ministered to the poor, battered messenger goose—above all making sure he was well-fed, washed and clothed, monitored night and day and given all the medicine, attention, and proper bedding as Mantis had proscribed before he left. And while he had not fully recovered from his ordeal—which he still wouldn't speak of except in evasive and laconic speech—so that his eyes still bulged and darted about more than was healthy, and not all of his feathers had grown back in as yet, he had made such marked improvement it was quite a relief.

 

The injuries had healed, though the brands and scars would always be with Zeng, and he had seemed to deeply appreciate Po's lavish meals and eager, excitable ways once the goose's stomach and mind had recovered enough to withstand them. And while he couldn't yet formally return to all his duties around the palace, he was able to go out for short flights to survey the surroundings of the Jade Mountain, something his sense of guilt compelled of him and which pleased Mei Ling greatly even if she would never speak of it.

 

However, Zeng seemed almost as flustered, terrified, and disturbed this evening as he had been the day he'd arrived with that cruel message—something which instantly had the mountain cat's hackles rising. "Master Ling—I came as fast as I could—I knew you'd want to hear about this…"

 

Rising from the chair and crossing to his side in only a few steps, she hurriedly reached out and wrapped a comforting arm around him. "Hey, it's okay…calm down, breathe, speak slowly…what's going on? What did you see?"

 

The goose did as she instructed, but even when he could speak again, his whole aspect still seemed distressed and nervous. And when she heard what he had to say, she understood why. "I…I was out on patrol, and I saw them. Three of them. Coming up the mountain, right toward the Jade Palace. They were heading for the dormitory…I couldn't see them very clearly, because of those black cloaks they wore. But I saw the light shining off their weapons—and their fur. They were snow leopards, had to be…"

 

Mei Ling froze in place for only a few seconds as this news and its ramifications hit her. It was exactly what Tigress and some of the others had feared, the Wu Sisters were taking advantage of their absence to make another strike at the Dragon Warrior. But whether they knew she was here guarding him or not, she still had a chance not only to protect Po, but to gain the vengeance she had sought for so long. It was now or never; she might never get a better chance at this, at ridding the Valley of a major threat and finally finding some peace.

 

"You stay here," she said at last, in a hushed, harsh whisper. "I'll go check on Po…and give them a warm welcome when they get here." She turned aside to the portrait of her father and briefly pressed her fingers to her lips, then to his painted face. "It won't be much longer now, Baba…" And with that, she was out the door and racing down the halls of the palace, her paw already darting down to her waist to catalogue her weapons…

 

She didn't have far to go, however, before she found herself required to launch into battle—for as usual, the Wu Sisters were incredibly fast and prepared, their strategies well-planned, so that even after Zeng had spotted them they had already made it up the mountain and had begun their assault. Luckily it seemed that Po's training had indeed paid off, since not only was he, as yet, uninjured, he'd apparently escaped the snow leopardesses' initial attack at the bunkhouse and made it into the palace, to where he had more room to maneuver and access to weaponry and cover so as to make a stand. Because when Mei Ling burst from the passage into the Hall of Warriors, that was where she found the assassins and the Dragon Warrior.

 

It only took her a few split seconds to observe, analyze, and plot a response to the scene she beheld. With his back to one of the beautifully carved jade pillars nearest the Moon Pool, breathing hard from his mad dash but otherwise quite ready for combat, Po stood leaning back on one foot, the other lifted and tucked close, on the verge of lashing out in an Eagle Strike to entangle any limb which came at him—while his paws were drawn back, muscles taut, to strike with either Tiger or Dragon Fists.

 

Arrayed in a triangular formation around the bear, her three half-sisters had taken up signature poses which still held the promise of deadly force to come: Jia stood behind him, her meteor hammer uncoiled and dangling from one paw but easily brought into play should she wish it; Xiu had placed herself directly across from him, her poisoned dagger displayed so that it glinted in the light of the braziers; and Chun had positioned herself at his side, her war fan caught in the act of slashing viciously across the panda's chest.

 

Seeing this, Mei Ling let out a soft snarl—and even as the Wu Sisters turned and spied her, she was already acting, withdrawing from the leather pouch at her belt a solid iron throwing star and then hurling it with all her might across the vast chamber. The projectile struck its mark with such fluid speed and uncanny accuracy it was as if it'd been magnetized—and before the green-eyed cat could do more than blink and curse in vexation, the throwing star had pierced her fan and ripped it from her paw, carrying it onwards until it was pinned to one of the many paintings lining the walls. There, it quivered violently, giving off a faint metallic hum that was the only sound other than breathing in the quiet room.

 

"Get away from him," she hissed, even as she leaped forward to break apart their formation and maneuver herself in front of Po. Landing on one foot, she struck out with the other to drive the sisters back, but the nearest, Chun, merely sidestepped her kick with her usual air of bored disinterest—in fact she looked on the verge of yawning, something which made Mei Ling's blood boil.

 

From the side of the chamber where the Moon Pool rippled and shimmered faintly in the light of the braziers, Wu Xiu chuckled darkly, and when she spoke her voice was cutting, cruel. "About time you showed up, Mei. I was expecting you to already be waiting for us here—or at least to get here five minutes earlier. Losing your touch already? And at _such_ a young age, too…"

 

"Why don't you come a little closer, and see just how incompetent I am?" The mountain cat gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes viciously, both paws raised to shift, dart, and weave about—endlessly moving and fluid, ready to strike out or block at a moment's notice.

 

"Ah, ah, ah." Xiu pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Now is that any way to talk to your dear sisters?"

 

"You gave up _any_ right to call me that almost twenty years ago," Mei Ling growled. "When you betrayed me, betrayed kung fu, betrayed all of China. When you killed our father!"

 

The snow leopardess visibly rolled her eyes. "Oh gods, you're still not over that yet? That's ancient history now! And I thought _we_ were the ones who held grudges far too long…" She smiled nastily. "I don't know why you care, anyway. He was weak."

 

Mei Ling took a step toward her, bristling, as she brought her paw up in a menacing gesture—one that, if she followed through on it, would strike the Wu Sister's chest with enough force to stop her heart. "He was stronger than all of us put together," she choked out hatefully. "And all the strength I have, I received from him. So if you don't want to experience that again, I suggest you leave, _now_ , and forget you ever took on your mission. I might have taken pity on you once, gave you the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the blood we share. But never again."

 

Behind her, Chun growled. "You think we really care about that? That we didn't wash our paws of _you_ a long time ago?"

 

"And more to the point," Xiu added, "what really makes you think you can stop us?"

 

The mountain cat shot her a dark look. "I did before," she said quietly, dangerously. "And I can do it again." So she had—once when she'd caught up with them, immediately after their treachery at Li Dai, and again a few years later atop the Great Wall itself, when they'd been on the verge of taking out an entire guard post and simply opening its doors to let the ravening barbarians in. That had been when she was still fresh-faced and untried, nervous and not yet a master—but even if it had been by the seat of her pants, she had still won.

 

"We have learned much since then." Xiu brandished her dagger at a high angle beside her face, her other paw clenched for a low strike in the solar plexus as she began to slowly circle across the room, past the Moon Pool, spiraling in to bypass Mei and reach her true target.

 

"So have I," Mei replied evenly, but with a trace of tartness.

 

From the side, Po raised a paw to wriggle his fingers for attention. "Uh, me too, you know. I'm not exactly helpless here."

 

"Quiet!" the mountain cat snapped. "Don't give them any ideas…" The last thing she wanted was for the Wu Sisters to learn exactly how well-trained the Dragon Warrior had become; as long as they thought him still laughable and useless at real kung fu, they would be taken by surprise when he finally unleashed his true skill upon them, and as long as they thought her to be the only true threat, they would focus on her and not try to take him out.

 

But it seemed she'd underestimated them. Because Chun glanced aside at the panda with mingled disdain and amusement, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, we already know all about that, panda. You've been the talk of the town…everyone knows how many levels you've taken, and they couldn't be prouder of you." She smiled coldly. "Maybe our employer was right about you after all. Maybe you really are a danger."

 

"Po, get out of here!" Mei whispered frantically.

 

"Not without you!" the panda replied stubbornly, shifting to always keep the pillar at his back and the sisters in his sights. "Crane'd kill me if I let anything happen to ya…and after how ya cleared Tai's name…"

 

She snorted derisively at the bear's words. _Right_. _He couldn't care less right now if I got in trouble, I think._

 

But before she could say more, Xiu interrupted with a totally false, sympathetic tongue-click. "Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. Let the bear play if he wants to. I promise to go easy on him." Her pale blue eyes gleamed like brittle ice, perfectly matching her wicked little laugh.

 

"Shut up!" To Po she whispered, "I said I'd protect you, Po, and I will. But you have to work with me on this. Don't put me in the same position Tai Lung was in—I can't fight off all three of them and still keep a close eye on you. And you've gotten much better, but I don't think you're good enough yet to handle more than one opponent. Please…listen to me. Trust me on this. I don't want anything to happen to you."

 

"Time's up!" the eldest Wu Sister cried with malicious delight. "That's more than enough strategizing for you—more than you deserve, really, but let it not be said I never gave my prey a fair shot." She nodded to her youngest sister, who up until that point had been still and silent even as she blocked the way to the main doors and the staircase. "Jia…you know what to do. He'll be so much easier to dispatch if he's all trussed up, you know."

 

Jia looked distinctly unhappy, or at least vague and uncertain, but Mei Ling would have none of this. She didn't even believe what she saw; it had to be an act, feigned for her benefit to garner pity, to make her stay her paw. And even if it wasn't, it was entirely possible the violet-eyed snow leopard could regret what she was ordered to do, even as she carried it out anyway. This was, after all, the murderer of Wu Xuan under consideration. One as heartless and unrepentant as her sisters, one who could never be forgiven.

 

She glanced aside at the Dragon Warrior again, and to her relief saw an imperceptible nod even as he too looked disappointed and saddened. Then, with a sharp jerk of her head, Mei Ling acted. Bursting into motion from a standing start, she sprang across the marble floor, leaping up to kick Chun right in the chin, rocking her head back and slamming her into the pillar, knocking over the brazier in the process with a loud clatter. Landing on the snow leopard's other side, she whirled about and plucked a pair of Emei piercers from a bracket quiver on the wall, bringing the silvery metal rods to bear.

 

To her surprise, and pleasure, she saw that at the same time she'd made her move, so had Po—and Jia, unprepared for his sudden competence, had not shaken her meteor hammer loose in time. Now holding the metal ball in one black-furred paw, the panda grasped and jerked it back in the same motion, an implacable and determined set to his usually amiable features…and abruptly the weapon was pulled out of her stunned grip. Free of anything Jia could do to him without daring to come within range of his paws, he turned and at once ran toward the Jade Palace doors, much more rapidly and with less lumbering than any of the assassins could have predicted.

 

For a few split seconds, Xiu stared at this in disbelief and rising fury. Then she snarled, "Well don't just stand there, idiot! Go after him!"

 

Jia shot her sister a contrary, mutinous look, but then complied—yet even as she ran with a fleet-footed, graceful gait that almost made her seem to float toward the now-open panels of gold and jade-encrusted wood, she was not alone. For Mei Ling was hot on her tail, already slipping the rings of the Emei piercers onto the fingers of her left paw and then snatching up a practice staff from a bin near the doors with her right. And as she aimed right at the rectangle of pale twilight which opened onto the steep, verdant slope of the mountain, she could hear clawed paws scratching and pounding on the floor behind her and knew that the chase was on.

 

Bursting out the doors, the mountain cat saw instantly that both Po and Jia were amazingly far ahead of her, having already reached the tournament arena and turned aside to follow the cobbled pathway that led toward the promontory on which the bunkhouse stood—and from how even the panda was dodging, leaping, and twisting to avoid the throwing stars the Wu Sister was almost half-heartedly hurling at him, Mei Ling had a pretty good idea how they had outdistanced her. Putting on a burst of speed, she reached a jutting section of the stone staircase, then pushed off with the staff to vault herself into open space…becoming a blurred streak of beige and black as she plummeted in freefall straight down the side of the mountain.

 

Catching hold of the gnarled limb of a peach tree that grew alongside the stairs, she dug in her claws and whirled several times around her perch to slow her momentum before landing adroitly and with barely a sound. But as she reached the arena gates and started to follow the Dragon Warrior and his villainous pursuer, something whizzed past her ear and clattered lightly on the pathway.

 

Hurriedly glancing down, she spied a small wooden dart, almost invisible on the bare ground save for the bright red feathering attached to it. To her shock, the soil was actually sizzling and sending up a thin plume of smoke where the tip had touched—it was coated with one of the most virulent poisons she'd ever seen! Looking up again wildly, she saw Chun had sped down the steps ahead of her sister, and even as she leaped and flung herself down toward Mei Ling, she was already fitting another dart to the bamboo blowgun she held in her paws.

 

Narrowing her eyes, the mistress of the thousand scrolls paused where she was and waited. It would do no good racing blindly after Po, if an attack like that could come from behind and horribly, fiendishly kill them. Obviously, the sisters were playing for keeps if they would resort to poison (and if she'd had any lingering doubts as to whether her own flesh and blood would slay her, they were now utterly dispelled).

 

She had to stay here, deal with them once and for all—or at least delay the assassins, take them out of the fight to protect the Dragon Warrior. She just hoped he truly had learned enough to take care of Jia himself…that she was not making the same mistake Tai Lung had made, only this time it really would cost the panda his life.

 

Chun was now only fifty feet above her…forty…thirty. The blowgun came up again, those chilling green eyes narrowed and focused above it. But Mei did not panic, did not launch into action, did not flee. She only waited, and watched…and at the moment she saw her half-sister's chest deflate with her exhaled breath, she swung her staff up in both paws, angled across her body. Her timing was absolutely perfect—as the dart streaked toward her, the length of wood rotated up and caught it effortlessly, the tiny missile quivering right before her face.

 

But she did not rest on her laurels, for Chun was already withdrawing another dart, and now Xiu had brought her own shuriken into play. For the next several minutes there was no sound except the whistling of the wind, the heaving of breaths, the thunk of metal into wood, and the telltale whizzing of projectiles in the air.

 

No matter how many weapons the sisters hurled at her, and no matter how invisible they might seem in the lengthening shadows, Mei Ling deflected or caught every single one—and while the throwing stars were easily caught in the bamboo and then tossed away, she even managed to knock the poison darts right out of the air without hesitation or fumbling. For one of her skill and talent, especially after her reflexes had been honed by drill after endless drill where Master Hu had similarly tossed missiles of all shapes and sizes at her on the Li Dai training grounds, it was child's play.

 

She didn't let herself get overconfident either, though—that way lay defeat and most likely death, for her charge if not herself. For soon enough, both the repeated stream of failures and the extremely narrow gap between them which no longer allowed for long-distance weapons convinced Chun it was time to change tactics. Putting away her blowgun, she instead removed from her waist the tried and true Wind and Fire Wheels, but Mei Ling was ready for her. Shucking her staff into the harness loops on the back of her vest, she slipped one of the Emei piercers onto her other paw and leaped forward to meet Chun.

 

Back and forth they lunged, and even though the Wu Sister had the high ground on the steps, Mei Ling succeeded in catching every one of her attacks with the arrow-headed rods. Several times each of the felines came within a hair's-breadth of stabbing the other, the jagged flames of the fire wheel slashing cuts in the mountain cat's tunic, the tip of the Emei piercer coming so close to Chun's face the snow leopardess became cross-eyed staring at it.

 

But then Mei succeeded in spearing both of her melee weapons right into the center of the metal disks—and in a complex, twisting maneuver, spun the piercers on their rings to wrench the fire wheels right out of Chun's paws. Even as her sister was snarling in frustration, the mountain cat leaped back a pace and then flung herself into the air, kicking out once, twice, in rapid succession. The fading sunlight glinted off the razor-sharp metal as each of the fire wheels spun with dazzling speed, sent by the force of her kicks back across the stairway—straight at Xiu.

 

Unsurprisingly, though also disappointingly, the eldest Wu Sister dodged one of the wheels, then ducked the other, so that one disappeared over the side of the stairway and clattered down the mountain while the other embedded itself in the pine tree behind Xiu. Yet Mei didn't concern herself with that, for Chun was coming at her again, this time only with her bare paws.

 

And as she grimaced in a rictus of disgust and contempt, she growled softly. "You know, I'm _really_ starting to get tired of you taking all my weapons away. What are you, Baba's spoiled little princess? Can't stand to see anyone else having fun with their toys?"

 

She was trying to anger Mei with her taunting…and it was working. But even so, she didn't allow it to affect her kung fu; she couldn't. Bringing her piercers to bear, she snapped, "No, that'd be _you_ , Chun," then drove one rod up along the inside of her adversary's arm. A long red line appeared as the flesh parted, staining the silvery-gray fur, and the assassin cried out, falling back, even as she swung the opposite leg to block Mei's attack of opportunity.

 

The blood was trickling onto the stairway, rendering it slippery and even more precarious, but they both ignored it, with Chun soon enough also ignoring her wound as she launched a flurry of blows at Mei. The mountain cat stopped them all, but in some cases only just. And even though she scraped her opponent's thigh and other arm, as well as plunged the Emeici into the hired killer's side (just barely missing her kidney), Chun still succeeded in backing her down the steps. She was losing ground.

 

A crunch of pebbles underfoot alerted her to approaching danger, and she whirled to the side just in time—Xiu had hurled her dagger, and it just missed stabbing straight and true into her heart. But with the amazing skill and speed which proved just why these snow leopardesses were the best of the best, Chun grabbed the knife out of mid-air, immediately inverting it and returning her wound in kind.

 

Mei Ling gasped as she felt the blade cut deep into her thigh, and she desperately prayed it had missed any major arteries—even as she removed the Emeici and tossed them aside, then plucked her staff from her back to block the next incoming blows.

 

More minutes passed, and even as the stinging increased in her leg and salty sweat ran into her eyes, Mei did not falter, did not budge an inch: Xiu had drawn another dagger to replace the one she'd thrown, but the mountain cat brought her staff up horizontally, dipping first one end and then the other as if she were back at Li Dai, meeting the sandbags swinging from the ceiling or the rotating arms of one of the training dummies.

 

Chun's blade, then Xiu's—back and forth, no matter how intently or furiously the assassins struck at her, she held off their blows. She had to; they would not pass. She could not allow the Dragon Warrior to fall; she could not allow her sisters to defeat her and get away with their heinous crimes. Not again, not anymore.

 

Finally, the tide of battle shifted. Chun, who was it seemed becoming rather tired from her own blood loss, stumbled briefly, almost falling down the steps into Mei's arms. And while she quickly caught herself and twisted to the side, it gave the mountain cat the chance she needed. Quickly inverting the staff, she brought it down and around in a vertical crescent, the other end coming up between Chun's legs, snagging her in the groin, and lifting—and with a yowl of anguish and annoyance, the snow leopard was hurled up and over Mei's head, over Xiu's as well, to fly the last twenty feet down the steps and slam into the arena doors.

 

With an audible groan, the middle sister fell to the ground, curled in a ball and clutching her head, before lapsing into unconsciousness.

 

Turning to face Xiu, Mei smiled…ominously, darkly, a look she knew would dare her sister to do her worst. And she wasn't disappointed, for the blue-eyed cat let out such an ugly growl that anyone else would have been terrified. "You think you've won…but you still count luck as skill, girl. And I was going easy on you, for the sake of family. No longer."

 

Mei laughed softly. "Sure you were. That's just something a loser says to make themselves feel better. Anyway, it doesn't matter how much kung fu you unleash on me—I have one thing you'll never have."

 

"And what's that?" Xiu sneered as she brought a second dagger into play, dual-wielding them in one deadly, flashing arc after another.

 

"You fight for money, or because you enjoy causing pain," she replied tauntingly, her staff once again blocking the knives within inches of her flesh. "I fight for, and with, honor. You…have none." And as her sister's eyes blazed with hatred and bloodlust, Mei whirled the staff in a rapid disc before her face, shoving out and down.

 

It caught first one dagger, then the other, sending them flying into the trees; smacked Xiu hard in the chin; and then, as the Wu Sister stumbled back and almost fell to one knee, Mei lifted the staff high and slammed it into her crown with an audible crack. With a scream and one last whimper, the snow leopardess crumpled in a heap on the steps, also out cold.

 

For several long minutes after that, however, Mei could not truly relish her victory—first and foremost because she was so woozy and dazed from her own blood loss that she almost joined her siblings in passing out. Only when she succeeded in tearing and clawing strips out of her trousers and tying them tightly around her thigh in a makeshift tourniquet was she able to stay conscious. Even then, she had to lean for another ten minutes or so on her staff, panting and gasping, until she felt ready to move again.

 

Even worse to her mind, however, was that her injuries, tiredness, and weakness also slowed her ascent of the rugged hillside toward the dormitory—even with the staff to aid her, she had a painful limp, one that made her hiss and gasp with every step, so that it took her another fifteen or twenty minutes to climb the steps when normally she could have raced up them in five at most. This, of course, gave Xiu and Chun time to recover—but worse, it left Po alone that much longer with Jia. Ruthless Jia, the one who hid her wickedness and treachery, her vicious and pitiless nature, behind a façade of cuteness and sweet wit. What would she have done to the panda, when Mei wasn't there to prevent it?

 

However, when she finally reached the bunkhouse and stepped into the narrow hallway, she discovered there was something else to worry about…something darker, more disturbing and frightening than anything she had seen anywhere in her travels across China. There was no sign of combat anywhere in the building, which was promising if rather puzzling, but it was quiet…too quiet. And all of the doors stood closed in the gathering night—except for one, at the far end on the right. Monkey's.

 

Mei Ling hesitated, recalling her odd and uncomfortable feelings whenever she found herself in the simian's company—somehow she had a very bad feeling about what he would do if he ever learned she had been in his room, and she wasn't exactly sure she _wanted_ to see it in any case. But that had to be where Po and Jia had gone as they sparred, so…

 

Unlike the panda, she had the very light weight and expert skill to slip down the hall without setting off a single creaking board, so she was absolutely certain no one in the room beyond could have heard her approach. Yet when she arrived at the door and peered inside, she suddenly had the distinct impression she could have stomped down the corridor like an elephant and those inside would have neither heard nor noticed her arrival. And when she saw what had arrested their attention, she understood why.

 

First of all, the entire room was incredibly filthy—piles of unlaundered clothes, unwashed dishes and eating utensils, and uneaten food lay everywhere, making it both an incredible obstacle course and a disgusting cavern of a den all in one. No lanterns or oil lamps were lit, and all of the windows were closed with the bamboo blinds drawn, so that everything lay draped in uneven, cloaking shadow, turning even the most innocuous piece of furniture into a possible monstrous adversary. And the bed was such a rumpled, dirty mess, with slashed sheets and clawed headboard, that she didn't know how anyone could sleep in it—or how any of Monkey's neighbors could have failed to hear him thrashing and wrecking it night after night.

 

But that wasn't what had her so terrified. It was that, as she stepped slowly into the room, approaching the stiffened, silent forms of Po and Wu Jia in the exact middle of the primate's meditation mat, she suddenly saw what had their eyes riveted to the walls.

 

Every available surface—the rice-paper partitions, the wooden paneling, the scrolls and silkscreens, the dressers and cabinets, even the ceiling and some of the floor—was covered in hastily scrawled writing. Some of it was fairly normal, if applied with little regard to proper formation of the hanzi—wise sayings of Master Oogway, she presumed, quotes from Confucius and Buddha, mantras from various kung fu philosophies. But the longer she looked, the more worrisome and upsetting things became. Seemingly normal, if odd, phrases such as 'I like bananas' became 'I like _dead_ bananas'…which were then illustrated with images of bananas being hanged on gallows.

 

Then the bananas were replaced by people…and it didn't take her long to identify the figures. Crane. Mantis. Shifu. Po. And over and over again, Tai Lung. Soon all she could see was the snow leopard's name, endlessly written over and atop itself…and then the words 'DIE DIE DIE DIE' covering the entire wall near the window. One of the words had been stabbed by a dagger, while an image of Tigress, all by herself, was off to the side, looking like a simpering doll as it was clutched protectively in Monkey's own arms.

 

 

Swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat, Mei Ling gazed and gazed at these nearly illiterate, obsessive ramblings, made all the more ominous by the shadows of dusk filling the room…and then she turned to stare at the others. She noticed, absently, that Po seemed completely unharmed, neither bruised nor wounded in any fashion, and for that matter neither did Jia. No weapons were visible either. In fact the snow leopardess seemed just as stunned and horrified as the Dragon Warrior. Her violet eyes flicked to Mei; she flinched, then moaned softly: "No… _no_. This can't…he can't…"

 

Her words seemed to finally jolt Po out of his own trance, and he turned to look at Mei with his green eyes more scared and uncertain than she'd ever seen them. "What…I don't understand. I…I know Monkey's been havin' some problems, but…how can he…?"

 

Before she could even attempt to formulate a reply, there came a scraping, creaking sound from the hallway as someone limped and staggered along it—how long had they been standing here, stunned by this awful discovery? Long enough, it seemed, because soon enough Xiu and Chun appeared in the doorway as well, although from the way they were clutching their sides and heads, they didn't seem to be up for another assault any time soon.

 

Xiu, of course, glared daggers at her youngest sister from eyes that still leaked tears of pain when she saw that Po still lived and was perfectly unharmed. But Chun had noticed the condition of the walls—and for the first time Mei Ling could remember, the unflappable calm and stoicism of the green-eyed Wu Sister seemed to be shaken. Jaw dropping, she quickly grabbed her eldest sister's sleeve and jerked on it.

 

"What?" Xiu snapped irritably—then, as she turned and saw what her sister was pointing at, her eyes widened. Again, Mei Ling received a shock as the snow leopardess she had always known to be cold-hearted and unmoved by any emotional appeal or pleading gesture now put her paw to her temple and shook her head in disbelief. When she spoke again, it was in a tone of anger—but also a trace of fear. "No. No, it can't be. He _promised_ us. He made _us_ swear not to…"

 

Chun had retreated back behind her mask of emotionless unconcern. But even her voice still sounded rather shocked as she stated, off-handedly, "Well. This doesn't look good, does it?"

 

There seemed to be no good answer to that, and none required. And it also seemed to be rather obvious to everyone in the room, Jia most of all. Because when Mei Ling looked back in her direction, the youngest Wu Sister had tears streaking her cheeks—and then, with only a wordless sob, she leaped out the window into the juniper bushes and was gone.

                                                                     

* * *

 

Very slowly, with extreme reluctance, Tigress gradually swam up out of unconsciousness. She felt so content, so happy, and so utterly sated that she didn't want to come back to the real world, to face the pain, harshness, and cruelty that had become her daily companions, that had seemed to imbue the Valley ever since the Five and their master had returned from Yunxian—that certainly awaited them at Chorh-Gom.

 

But she didn't really have much of a choice…because first, no matter how she fought against it, she could feel an inexorable cold creep into her body, the chill of the desert night and of the mountain stone penetrating her body as she slept on the cavern floor. And then, as this forced her back into awareness, she immediately felt an equally unwelcome ache, centered just below her abdomen…one that became all the more throbbing and painful as time passed. She knew what had caused that, too…

 

Shivering in the chill breeze blowing in the cave mouth, she reached futilely for a blanket to protect herself. She didn't find one of course—but she did come across something warm, thick, and heavy regardless. Something covered with soft, silky fur, but composed of bulging, granite-hard muscle beneath. An arm, a very masculine arm. But she didn't mind, at least at first…in fact she let out a satisfied purr under her breath and snuggled even closer, into the embrace of the other cat lying beside her, pressing herself against that very solid, powerful chest with its creamy white fur.

 

She could both hear and feel the heartbeat thudding behind it, almost perfectly in rhythm with her own. Strong. Dependable. Unyielding. Just like its owner. It was comforting and beautiful, gentle and amazing despite its usual mundane nature. It lulled her until she felt she could fall asleep again to its cadence, as did the feline's breathing as his chest rose and fell. Best of all was the continuous, rumbling purr he in turn produced, intertwining with her own and making her feel safe, protected—and loved.

 

Yes, she could admit it now, to herself if not aloud to him or to anyone else. She felt love from Tai Lung. She felt love _for_ Tai Lung. Some part of her knew, or at least felt, that this was still wrong…but the rest of her, the vast majority, was only grateful that all the dissembling and self-delusion and overweening superiority were at last over and done with. She knew what she knew…and it wasn't the terrible thing she'd feared. It hadn't doomed her to the same wicked darkness that had claimed the snow leopard, nor had she, as yet, been hurt by him.

 

Well, except in one way. But that was purely physical, to be expected for two virgins. _And he wasn't exactly…lacking in endowment._ Tigress blushed furiously in the darkness, enough she was surprised it didn't illuminate the shadows.

 

Despite the soreness, despite the uncertainty of the future, despite not being sure—completely and utterly sure—that she could trust him, and despite the dangers and worries which beset them, the leader of the Furious Five didn't want to leave where she was. She only wanted to stay here, with Tai Lung…not because she felt weak and in need of protection and comfort, but because he made her feel…whole.

 

He could be there for her to lean on, on the rare occasions when she felt vulnerable and hopeless, and the rest of the time he could simply stand beside her, in ways that none of the other Five could. He understood her…they truly did have so much in common. She hated to admit it, but he was right about them being a perfect match in so many respects.

 

At the same time, though, that very fact still made her wary and afraid. What would Shifu say when he found out? Or Monkey? How would the citizens of the Valley react? People like Xiulan could rightly say her judgment was compromised, that she was no longer an objective arbiter of his heart and soul. It would be a scandal to rock the empire like none in many decades. Not that she cared what anyone thought of her…especially Shifu, right now. But she didn't want to cause more trouble for the Valley.

 

And there was the added danger now of something happening to Tai Lung…the Wu Sisters, as well as other mysterious enemies, had chosen him to corrupt, compel, or failing that, destroy. And now she had found him, she was not about to let anyone take him away from her…yet the suddenness of this feeling, how swiftly she felt herself turning from contempt and hatred to fierce devotion and defensiveness, worried her too. This couldn't be happening, how could she have _let_ this happen? What did it all mean?

 

Was she becoming a weak, helpless damsel? Or was he simply filling a void in her life she didn't know she had? Which was she to believe—the violent fighter who had so suddenly and shockingly attacked Po in the kwoon, or the gentle, caring man who had reached out to her, respected her, helped give her back a piece of her cubhood? Was this really and truly what she wanted? And why, if so?

 

Even as all these contradictory thoughts ran through her tired mind, Tai Lung stirred beside her. And somehow, as she saw his eyes slide open a crack to reveal the golden hue behind his lids, all of her distress and fear melted away—at least for now. She only lost herself in those compelling eyes, smiling as she continued to lean against his chest, surrounded by the circle of his arms and the clasp of his legs—surrounded, above all, by his warmth.

 

"Mmm…hello there," the snow leopard said lightly, as if continuing a casual conversation they'd started before falling asleep. " _I_ had nice dreams. You?"

 

Tigress paused, then blushed and smiled a little more broadly as she had to allow that she had. "Er…yes. I don't see how I couldn't, really. That was…it felt… _wow_." _Such eloquence._ "I had no idea it would be so…" Words still escaped her—was this why Viper's romance novels were so trite, because there really weren't words to describe it?

 

"Intense? Amazing? Vigorous?" Tai Lung offered helpfully. To her surprise, and amusement, he was blushing too. She also noticed a definite wince of pain as he shifted about and accidentally brushed his backside against the rocky wall behind him; recalling how she'd dug her claws in deep enough to draw blood at one point during their lovemaking, she bit her lip and injected as much sympathy and apology into her expression as she could.

 

"Yes?" she said, clearly responding to all three options, and the snow leopard laughed before clutching her close to his chest again, rocking her gently back and forth. For what seemed endless minutes she simply lost herself in the strength of his embrace, in the rich, musky scent of his sweat that had so aroused her from the moment she'd first smelled it. It felt so good to be here…as if, for this one shining moment, the rest of the world fell away and didn't matter, and that as long as she stayed here, she didn't have to worry because it didn't exist.

 

Chuckling and breaking her out of her reverie, he leaned in close to nuzzle her cheek, then kiss it. "Don't worry. I could be mistaken, but I think this is a good thing—it means we did it right." He paused, and then a decidedly embarrassed look crossed his face as his voice turned sheepish. "So, um...all that shuddering you did when we were almost done...was that...I mean, did you..."

 

Tigress stared at him for several startled moments, and then it was all she could do not to laugh. It was so easy to forget, at his age, that he was still so inexperienced, so new to all this. _Not that I'm much better_ , she thought ruefully. At last, she managed to say, "Yes. Yes, I did."

 

Tai Lung blinked; again, he flushed; and then he smirked at her in a charming, and typically proud way. "Really…not bad for a grandpa, eh?"

 

She had to laugh at that one, even as she privately resolved never to call him an old man again if she could help it; he certainly had the stamina and endurance of a man half his age! "Well…I can hardly say I know from experience, but…yes, I'd say you did well."

 

Unsurprisingly, a cocky and suggestive look appeared on his face, and he leaned down over her so that the still fairly intense heat of his body washed over and soaked into her. "Hmmm…well, to be sure…perhaps we should do it again?"

 

She wanted to say yes. She needed to say yes. And she almost did. But at the last moment, even as she stared into his hopeful eyes—which she saw filled, not just with lust, but genuine affection and tenderness—she forced herself to say it, to voice her doubts and fears in the only words that made sense. "No. We're...I think we're moving too fast...I don't know if I'm ready."

 

Tai Lung's face fell, becoming so heartbroken she almost changed her mind. But then his look became one of consternation, awkward and rather baffled. "Don't know if you're ready?" he repeated incredulously. "But...I mean, we just…"

 

The striped feline cut him off by placing her paw over his lips, even as she closed her eyes and nodded tightly. "Yes, I know. And that's just the point! I mean…this is all so sudden, it happened so fast…" Growling at herself for sounding so cliché— _But it's not a cliché if it's true and happening to you!_ —she tried again.

 

"We…we've been getting to know each other, getting closer, yes. But I didn't expect—all right, fine. I've wanted you almost since I laid eyes on you. Or my body did, anyway. But that's just giving in to desire…now we have to face the consequences."

 

"What consequences?" Tai Lung protested. She gave him a level look, and to his credit he had the grace to look contrite. "Oh…well, yes, but…it was only the once…"

 

"All it takes is once," she retorted, "but those weren't the only consequences I meant. We've only known each other two months, almost three. Are we really prepared for this, and everything that goes with it? Do you even know what all we'll have to do, what we'll have to face?" Her voice became intense and impassioned. "There's the Valley and Master Shifu…there's how this will change our lives…this is a major decision, Tai Lung. Nothing will be the same anymore. We have to be sure we're willing to weather it all."

 

She paused, softened her tone and expression as she brushed her paw along his cheek fur in a mirror to his gesture. "What we did…it was wonderful. But I don't know where to go from here. I swore for so long I wouldn't let it come to this…and now that I have, what comes next? Can we really pledge ourselves to each other? Anything less wouldn't be worth it…but…I'm just so confused…"

 

Tai Lung stared at her soberly for a long time, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking; all she knew was, he wasn't about to explode in unfathomable rage, which was certainly a plus. Finally he lowered his gaze and sighed. "You're right, of course. I can't pretend things can go on as they have before. When we get back from Chorh-Gom…we need to consider what this means, what we should do. I can't expect you to start engraving the wedding invitations when there's still so much we don't know about each other." His expression became firm again, resolved. "But just tell me two things, then, Tigress."

 

Even as she warily wondered what he would ask of her, she nodded encouragingly; after all she had put him through up until this night, and what they had just shared with one another, she at least owed him this. "Go on."

 

He held up a finger. "We can't know where we'll go from here without spending a great deal more time together. Are you willing to do that? Can you give me the chance to keep getting to know you, and show you this isn't just about sex…to show you I love you in all the ways that count?"

 

Even before he had finished, she found herself nodding. "Yes, of course. It's as you said…we have to know, one way or the other. And that's the only way to be sure."

 

"Right then, number two." He held up a second finger—and while the words he spoke were ones she'd have expected to accompany a smug, self-congratulatory grin, instead they were spoken earnestly, forthrightly. "D'you regret what we just did? Even if you don't know if we should do it again, or when, let alone go farther, are you at least all right with it happening the once?"

 

Tigress opened her mouth…worked it silently for a few moments—and then sighed as she shook her head. "No, I don't. I'm worried, unsure, and more than a little stressed about it. But I'm glad it happened. I…we both needed this. Some things are still hazy for me—but some things are a lot clearer."

 

A huge, beaming, elated smile spread across his muzzle, making his features even more handsome, and he grasped her paw in his to squeeze it tightly. "That's all I wanted to hear. In that case, I can wait. We don't have to do anything—this, or anything else—until you're ready. Just as long as I can still see you, that's all I want." And he leaned down to kiss her once more.

 

By the time that sweet yet needfully desperate gesture was over with, both of them were breathing hard again—but true to his word, Tai Lung did not attempt to enter her again or initiate anything at all. He only took her in his spotted arms, cradled her close, and kissed the top of her head as he inhaled her scent. The master of the Tiger style didn't know whether to cry or purr, squirm or cling. She settled for simply holding him back.

 

One by one the minutes passed, with neither of them wanting to end this calm, beautiful respite. But at last, when she could put it off no longer, Tigress sighed and looked up at the snow leopard pointedly and unwaveringly. "We should be getting back to the others."

 

Tai Lung grumbled rather nastily under his breath. "Let them wait! There's nowhere I'd rather be except here, in your arms."

 

It was said so simply, so guilelessly, straight from his heart, that the striped feline had to swallow against an enormous lump in her throat. No one had _ever_ said such things about her before…she'd begun to believe no one ever would. Forcing herself to continue, to say words she truly didn't want to say but knew she must, she said, "Maybe so, but I'm cold, and there's no wood here for a fire."

 

"You don't _need_ a fire when you've got me," he replied with a purr, grinning cheekily, and she had to admit he had her there; his thick fur was so wonderfully warm and perfect for cuddling against. Suddenly she found herself looking forward to winter nights on the Jade Mountain, something she had never done before.

 

"They're going to be wondering what happened to us," she said as levelly as she could manage, trying another tack. "If we don't come back, they may come looking. Do you want them to find us like this? Especially Monkey and Master Shifu?"

 

Tai Lung lidded his eyes and hung his head, growling to himself even as he started to groan. "Damn…you're right, I wasn't thinking."

 

Wisely deciding, for once, to bite her tongue, Tigress finally added in a subdued tone, "And while I'd love to stay here with you just as much, there is somewhere else we need to be. Or did you forget about Chorh-Gom?"

 

"I was trying _not_ to think about it, thank you very much." Still, despite the gloomy air that settled over him, and the grim determination that burned in his stern visage, he didn't direct his rightfully hateful fury at her. He only slumped his shoulders and closed his eyes briefly. "Well, it was nice while it lasted…fine, let's go."

 

Although the chill of the desert night had indeed settled into her bones, Tigress still took the time to search the cave until she found a small stream trickling down a grotto-like crevice. While she couldn't bathe properly, a little splashing and scrubbing was enough to remove the sweat and…other evidence…from her fur, as well as clean away most of the blood that had accompanied her first time. She would find time later to secretly bandage herself until the bleeding stopped, but for now this would have to do.

 

Similarly, Tai Lung did his best to clean the claw marks on his back—he'd have to put at least some ointment on them later, if he could manage to swipe it from Mantis without the insect being the wiser and spilling the whole sordid secret to everyone—and then both of them got dressed and slipped out of the cave.

 

The trip back took much longer, and not only because neither of them was running—Tigress's soreness extended to her ability to walk, but the snow leopard was nothing if not solicitous and attentive as he put his arm around her and guided her back to the campfire, the flickering light of which they could still see reflecting off of the overhang. By the time they were almost within sight of the flames (and those gathered around could see them), she had luckily recovered enough of her poise, balance, and constitution to walk normally without wincing or limping.

 

Stopping just far enough outside the campsite that they were still concealed in the darkness, she turned back to Tai Lung and took both his paws in hers, gazing up into his face intently. "For now, until I say otherwise, nothing has changed between us. The others can't know of this until I'm ready—and we can be sure how they'll handle it. Got it?"

 

Although he didn't look exactly happy with the arrangement—he probably wanted to shout from the mountaintops how he had finally earned the love and respect of the most beautiful kung fu warrior in China, or some similarly embarrassing endearment—the snow leopard only nodded in understanding. "Believe me, I don't want to set them off any sooner than we have to. I don't want to be mobbed with weepy excitement any more than I do screams and kung fu duels."

 

"Er…yes." Leave it to him to find the most blunt, brutally honest way to put the truth. "I also wanted to thank you."

 

"For what?" He smiled softly.

 

"Not leaving me alone, coming after me. For not giving up on me, no matter how much I tried to hate you and drive you away. For giving me something so…incredibly wonderful." She blushed furiously; she'd done so more times in the last half hour than she thought she had her entire adult life!

 

Tai Lung chuckled appreciatively, but only brushed the backs of his fingers against her striped cheek again before stepping back and adopting a more appropriate stance and posture for being in public again. "You're quite welcome, Master Tigress."

 

She paused, then smiled at him with a trace of her usual fire and vindictiveness. "One other thing, though: the next time you feel like helping out with Shifu—don't." Inwardly, she smirked to herself as she watched the contented, even cocky smile slide off of the spotted cat's face, leaving him looking uncertain, worried, and vaguely annoyed. _That's it. Always keep him guessing. He'd better learn that just because he's found a way into my heart, doesn't mean I'm just going to lie down and curl up for him…_

 

With that, she strode into the rocky, sandy depression where the others were bedded down for the night. Crane and Mantis, it seemed, were already asleep, and Shifu had his back to her as he sat cross-legged on his rock, apparently meditating. She didn't know if he were shunning her for her cruel treatment of him—which, even if part of her cringed slightly at how truly harsh she'd been with him, he absolutely deserved—or if he had decided (and rightly so) that right now he was the last person she'd wish to see and speak to. But in any event, this only left Viper and Monkey awake to greet them.

 

The serpent let out an explosive sigh of relief when she saw her best friend finally return, and she immediately slithered over to wrap her in a tight (but not injuriously so) embrace of her coils. The simian, meanwhile, had assumed his typical meditation position perched atop his stiffened tail, and as they appeared he only cracked open one eye to peer at the snow leopard before grunting sourly.

 

"'Bout time you got back here," he whispered harshly, to keep from rousing the others. "In a desert like this, you could've froze if ya stayed out there any longer. And there's all kindsa wild beasts and bandits around, not to mention that killer we be hunting." He paused significantly, then shot Tai Lung an artful look. "Wouldn't want anything happening to ya, now would we?"

 

Tai Lung ignored him, other than to only grunt out, "I brought her back, didn't I?" before stalking past Monkey to his own bedroll on the fire-warmed stone. The primate glared openly at his hulking backside—and then, as his nostrils flared, the curled thumbs and index fingers of his _gyan_ mudra abruptly clenched into fists.

 

Rolling her eyes at his continued hatred and resentment—how long would he stubbornly cling to it? She'd barely been able to maintain her own this long, and he had far less good reason to do so—Tigress turned back to Viper, who was smiling at her. "Thank goodness, I was getting so worried about you! You were gone so long—what happened…?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, twinkling.

 

"I'll tell you later," Tigress murmured under her breath, looking over her shoulder at the disapproving scowl of the langur. "Right now, I need some sleep. I'm…very worn out." And she turned up the corners of her mouth suggestively as, yet again, she blushed prettily. It was like being a teenager all over again, or rather a more typical one than she'd been the first time around—what, was she making up for lost time?

 

Viper went silent, gazed up at her, and then began to grin knowingly even as she released Tigress and slithered to the side, allowing her access to her own sleeping pallet. She could tell the serpent was burning with questions, and dying for details, but even if she weren't so tired and their current mission made juicy gossip the absolutely last thing on her mind, she wasn't ready to have her love affair with the snow leopard bruited about so recklessly. There would be time enough later to deal with it, after they'd eliminated this deplorable murderer once and for all…after she'd figured out how she wanted to handle it herself, and where it could go.

                                                             

* * *

 

As she and the tattooed reptile retired to their places for the night, Tigress might have been less sanguine, and simply had all thoughts of sex, Tai Lung, and even the monster they sought driven completely from her mind, if she had glanced behind her one last time. For as she passed him, Monkey flared his nostrils once more, picking up her scent…and abruptly his fists clenched even harder, visibly trembling as he drove his nails into his palms.

 

That was nothing, however, compared to how both eyes opened to skewer the back of the striped feline's head with contempt, malice, and fury…or how a sooty, crimson glow began to burn and flicker within them that had nothing to do with a reflection of the campfire…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the description of Wu Xuan seems vaguely familiar to anyone, that's for a very good reason. The picture Mei Ling had hanging on the wall is meant to be a shout-out to an early design for Tai Lung from _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_. Of course, I prefer the final version of the snow leopard, but this earlier look is still rather cool, I thought, so I found a way to include it. And since it depicts Tai Lung as of a more slender, lithe build, and a color closer to Mei Ling's, it made it a perfect candidate for her father. So, I've inserted it right within the story for reference!


	29. Shadows in the Fortress

 

The next morning, as they consumed breakfast and broke camp to continue their travels, Tai Lung was not at all surprised that a significant number of them were still on edge, and that an extremely awkward atmosphere had settled over the group. While no one (other than Viper and Mantis) had chosen to pry into what had taken the two felines so long to return from the mountain cave, or why both of them seemed to be in a generally improved mood, it didn't take much insight to guess that something of a highly personal nature had taken place between them. And while this seemed to please Viper and Mantis, and even mollify Crane, Monkey was unsurprisingly even more annoyed, spiteful, and vindictive than ever.

 

Shifu, oddly, seemed rather oblivious to the whole thing, but then again he must have had a great deal on his mind after that awful conflict with Tigress. That in itself added to the uneasy feelings among the kung fu warriors, since everyone was expecting their leader to begin a new round of fault-finding and caustic criticism, especially if the red panda dared to defend himself and his actions, or take issue with her words. Except…Tigress seemed smug, and rather content that she had said her piece, testified to the truth, and nothing more need be said on the matter, while Shifu—whether out of respect or a form of private penance—only kept his eyes fixed on his plate while he ate, or the ground as they walked.

 

Tai Lung watched him warily as they journeyed, fully believing that all too soon, his master and father would be emerging from his shell to lambaste his daughter, and when he did his rage would be a sight to behold. The longer it was before it happened, the worse he predicted the explosion would be…and yet, when it did not come, that in itself disturbed and worried him even more.

 

Of course, he had his own reasons for feeling decidedly embarrassed and uneasy: for while he knew that his relationship with Tigress had taken a major leap forward, he was compelled to conceal this fact by the promise he'd made her the night before. It wasn't that he particularly relished what the reactions of certain parties would be when they found out…he simply was bursting with this news and had to tell someone, _any_ one. It was, without exaggeration, the best thing that had ever happened to him—well, one of them, since Shifu telling him he was proud of him, and being accepted and befriended by Po, certainly ranked well up there.

 

This was different, however…this was love, pure and simple. He didn't know how he knew, it simply felt _right_. And now that he had a fairly strong hint that Tigress returned his feelings—and just as importantly, was finally acknowledging them—the snow leopard felt as if he could literally walk on the clouds. Who needed kung fu to perform amazing feats? The happiness he felt now, the ache burning in his heart, was powerful enough all by itself to fuel his _chi_ …it almost frightened him, how strong it was, like a rushing mountain river trying to burst out of its banks. As he had often found himself contemplating ever since being welcomed back to the Jade Palace, he was startled and overwhelmed by how good and wondrous it felt—by how truly fulfilled and worthwhile he felt, when he never had before.

 

How could he have lived without this? How empty must he, and his life, have been for so many long, lonely years? Was this why he had so easily become imbalanced, why his demons had consumed him, why his Yang blinded him with his own perceived sense of perfection and entitlement? Or as Po would put it, because until now he had nothing to protect, nothing human and emotional to fight for, only his pride, vanity, and superiority? If so…then all those long-ago lessons from Oogway, the gentle and beautiful teachings of philosophers, poets, and artists for a thousand years which had enjoined him to listen to that still, small voice in his heart, and be guided always by love, mercy, kindness…for the first time, he finally understood why this was considered wisdom.

 

Not that he believed, of course, that this would suddenly solve all his problems, that the tired old aphorism of 'love conquers all' would defeat Vachir, the Wu Sisters, and the _chi_ wizard, or even convince all of the citizens of the Valley of Peace to forgive and accept him. Not by a long shot! That would take something even more miraculous and amazing, as well as a great deal of hard, back-breaking work…in fact he might never be able to truly atone for all the crimes he'd committed. But at least it was a place to start, at least he finally had something to ground himself in.

 

And while he also knew this hardly guaranteed smooth sailing with Tigress from here on out, that he still had to remember Viper's advice and Po's example when it came to how he should treat others, and that he would be learning about the striped feline, and devoting himself to her, for the rest of their lives…that didn't seem like much of a chore at all anymore. He couldn't wait to truly know her, to stand by her side, and above all to give her the love she never received from Shifu, something better than the fame and accolades she received as leader of the Five.

 

So to have to pretend nothing had changed, to conceal how he truly felt behind his usual stoic, emotionless demeanor, was the hardest thing he had yet attempted. To watch Tigress act as if she still considered him lower than dung, that she still refused to trust or respect him…at least he _hoped_ it was an act, as she was entirely too convincing at times for his comfort…well, needless to say it upset and frustrated him greatly. He understood why it had to be done, but he certainly didn't like it.

 

Every time she rested a cool, distant gaze on him, curled her lips in that familiar sneer, or even brandished her claws whenever he made some suggestion about their route or how they should deploy themselves when they reached their destination…it was like an icicle stabbed in his heart. And then there was the fact he had to continually invent excuses to slip away from the rest of the group so as to apply ointment to the claw marks on his back—the worst being when Mantis snidely suggested he must have a very small bladder. (He had to grit his teeth and bear the insect's teasing, however, since he had both provided the medicine in question and agreed to keep silent about why it was needed.)

 

With all of this swirling in and around Tai Lung, it was no wonder he constantly felt on the verge of exploding—in rage, in tears, or simply with a shouted scream: "I _love_ Tigress, and I want her to be my wife, _damnit_!"

 

But then, at last, after several more days of heavy traveling, they arrived at the village of Qinghe…and somehow, all of these thoughts and worries were driven from the snow leopard's mind by what they found there.

 

Despite its location at the boundary of both mountains and desert, Qinghe did have a small, if meager, strip of farmland surrounding it, for it sat on the banks of a fairly significant river and thus had plenty of water for irrigation. Yet the fields which surrounded the town, holding what looked to be wheat, were absolutely empty—no farmers were out and about checking for pests, watering the crops, or otherwise preparing the grain for the threshing and reaping it would later receive near the start of autumn. In fact there wasn't any equipment lying about, nor laboring animals to pull the plows, nor any activity at all.

 

Everything was utterly still, but for the wind stirring the wheat stalks in an endless whisper. As they drew closer to the village itself, it became even more eerie and unnerving. The river, sixty paces of rushing, fairly deep water even here at the ford, was normally crossed by an ancient but still sturdy ferry…yet no one manned it, its decks were bare and silent, the only creaking caused by the current rocking it at its pilings or the wood popping as it swelled in the heat.

 

Wary, uncertain, and so tense he felt as if he'd burst out of his pelt at any moment, Tai Lung led the way onto the ferry. Even as he worked with Tigress to set loose the mooring lines, then joined Crane in poling the craft across toward the opposite bank, the snow leopard found himself gazing across stonily, if only to hide the growing fear within him. The distance was not that great, and his eyes were so sharp, he could see quite clearly that there were no forms moving among the low, flat-roofed sandstone buildings—no signs of life at all.

 

"I don't like it," he declared finally, softly but with conviction. He sniffed the dry, desert air experimentally. "It smells wrong. It smells…dead."

 

Behind him, Monkey snorted derisively. "Says you. I don't smell nothing."

 

Yet Shifu, perched at the bow of the ferry, hands clasped behind his back and enormous ears pricked high to catch even the faintest sounds (and for all the snow leopard knew, with his eyes closed so he could focus on reading the _chi_ of their surroundings), did not dispute Tai Lung's claim. In fact he only remained motionless and did not venture to speak at all…something that worried the spotted cat even more, and seemed to distress Viper and Tigress too. Whatever Monkey said to the contrary, Tai Lung could feel the emptiness and encroaching darkness that lay ahead of them, even in the bright sunlight—and he knew the others could feel it as well.

 

In short order—which both pleased and displeased the snow leopard, for while on one level he was anxious to know what was going on, on another he had a feeling he didn't want to know at all—they reached the far side, and once the ferry was tied in place, all seven of them moved into the village proper. But there they discovered that what had seemed the case from a distance was even more clear, and upsetting, from up close. The single dirt street around which the dwellings clustered was absolutely empty and motionless. A large number of houses had their doors left open, creaking back and forth in the wind…the sound almost shockingly loud in the stillness, the dark holes they left to the interiors seeming like black, sightless eyes or perpetually howling mouths. Curtains of oilskin and leather hung at the windows, stirring and dancing whenever the wind picked up—rather disconcertingly, as if someone stood behind them and were twitching them aside to peer out at the visitors.

 

But from all appearances, Qinghe had been abandoned. Everywhere they looked there were signs of a hasty departure: dolls, balls, and other toys left on front stoops or along the dusty street; scraps of clothing, stray frying pans and other bits of cookery, and other household items; rickety wagons left behind when their owners found them too heavy to pull, putting too slow a pace on their flight; and perhaps most disturbing of all, a great many weapons left discarded and forgotten, from scythes and staves to swords and daggers, as if those who had tossed them aside had been facing something against which there was no defense, something which could not be harmed by normal means. All of this nearly buried in the sand which had been allowed to blow and shift into the town, without anyone around to sweep it clear each morning and evening.

 

Peering into the nearest house, where the light spilling across the front room revealed a midday meal still on the table, with flies buzzing incessantly about it, Viper swallowed and looked at the others fearfully. "But…where did they all go? We didn't meet anyone on the road…did they go to another village? Or out into the desert? They couldn't have lasted long out there…"

 

Tigress knelt and picked up one of the lonely dolls, staring around guardedly at the silent structures. "Something must have severely frightened them. Out here, on the edges of civilization…they would have had nowhere else to go, and if they left behind their weapons, their equipment, all the things they would have needed to survive…" She trailed off and said no more, but she didn't have to.

 

"They may have left a lot behind. But they also took…other things." This came from Crane, who had trailed along at the back of the group and now stood at the edge of the village, gazing at something which none of them could see. When Tai Lung and the others turned back and hurried to his side, what awaited them was the most chilling and unusual thing the snow leopard had ever seen. There, along the outer perimeter of the town, beyond the last house and the tiny inn which Qinghe warranted, the cemetery of the village stood on a low hill rising above the sand-scoured desert soil. And inexplicably, it seemed as if almost every grave had been opened!

 

Despite being more than a little terrified by this discovery, Crane soon flew over to investigate more fully, accompanied by Mantis. And it didn't take them long to confirm the truth. "They're all gone," the insect whispered when they flew back, his usual naughty humor and playful demeanor quite absent. "Every grave is empty…the villagers took all the bodies with them."

 

"But why?" the avian asked, looking very much like he wanted to pound his skull to try and force it into producing the answer. "I mean, it looks like they did their best to honor them properly…there were a lot of joss sticks and white papers in the graveyard, and I think they must have kept the bodies wrapped in blue and yellow, I found the rolls of cloth for it. But no one ever desecrates the dead, they'd be too afraid of hungry ghosts coming after them…" He swallowed. "What could make them risk that?"

 

Everyone looked at each other, becoming more and more frightened with every passing moment.

 

Finally, a peremptory shout from Master Shifu drew their attention, and all of them hurried to his side. While the rest of them fanned out to explore, the red panda had strode straight down the street toward the largest building in town, what looked like some sort of meeting hall, or perhaps the house of the village headman. As they came up behind the diminutive master now to see what he had discovered, Viper at once let out a scream, Tigress growled, and even Monkey let out a sharp breath. Tai Lung had to admit they were right to react so viscerally, as he himself felt rather ill at the sight.

 

Nailed to the double doors of the red-tiled structure was another slain victim of this insane monster's tirade. A canine of some sort—perhaps a desert jackal, to judge by his narrow profile and sand-colored fur, unless it had simply become coated with the swirling grains over the last several days. As usual, the poor fellow appeared to have been pinned there while still alive, if the scuff marks on the wood behind his booted heels was any indication.

 

But the spread-eagled body was not only pierced at ankles, wrists, and shoulders…a pair of jagged spikes had been driven into his eyes to keep his head upright, so that the gap-jawed body seemed to be staring right at them from its bloody sockets, begging soundlessly for a release that would never come. Below, from the sheer amount of blood soaking his tunic, it was highly likely the man had been castrated.

 

Across his chest, this time in hanzi rather than Mongolian, was another four-word message: THERE IS NO SALVATION.

 

"I'd say," Tigress said slowly, "that's a fairly good reason to want to get out of town as quickly as possible. Though I still don't know what threat this would be to the dead…"

 

Tai Lung let out a shuddering, uneven snarl, bunched his fists, and wheeled about to stare to the northeast, to where the snow-capped peaks of Tavan Bogd rose above the town in endless majesty, their arrogant slopes seeming to beckon him onward. "It doesn't matter. We have to put a stop to it. And the only way to do that, is to reach Chorh-Gom as soon as possible. Come on."

 

Without waiting to see if they would obey, he stalked away from the pitiful remains of the jackal and kept his face firmly averted from the sight…so that none of them could see the horror inscribed on his face or the tears starting to form in his eyes.

 

Night in the mountains would be even more frigid and deadly than the daytime, so the snow leopard insisted they set off at once up into the highest reaches of the range. Luckily Chorh-Gom was less than a day's travel inwards, if they pressed on without stopping and maintained the same pace they had for the last few days, so they would not be caught on the open slopes when the sun set. Nevertheless, the journey itself was still more arduous and physically taxing than any the Five had previously attempted, and it had of course been decades since Shifu made this trip, so that none of them was exactly sanguine about it.

 

Still…there was no choice. Crane certainly could not risk flying into the howling mountain gales, and was thus confined to the ledges and passes along with the rest of them, but at least he, like all the other members of the Five, had brought along cold-weather gear for just this excursion.

 

Wrapped in thick fur parkas made from the willingly shorn wool of sheep and the layers of rough, coarse hair which comprised the pelts of goats, yaks, and other massive creatures, the kung fu warriors and their master struggled against the blanketing snow and slippery ice. At least the weather was cooperating, and they did not have to contend with blizzard conditions…but still, the incredible cold was bad enough, even without the unsure footing, a knife-like pain which stabbed deep into the flesh and which even Tai Lung, with his thick mountain pelt, could feel.

 

As he had feared, Viper's reptilian constitution was not built for this sort of climate, and even as he fervently wished he could have convinced her to stay behind in the Valley with Po and Mei Ling, the snow leopard scooped the serpent up from the trail and tucked her inside of his shirt without protest, holding her close to his chest so she could receive the full benefit of his warm fur. Tigress, he saw, performed a similar service for Mantis inside of her vest, but the rest of them had to fend for themselves as they climbed ever higher, deeper, and farther into the looming heights of the massif.

 

They had been traveling for hours. The desert plateau below had vanished from sight except as a faint golden-brown blur at the horizon…and taken with it the disturbing emptiness of Qinghe. And they had all become stiff-legged, sore-muscled, and extremely weary at fighting against the hard-packed snow they slogged through—except Shifu, who despite his age had nimbly leapt above and atop the gleaming white drifts without even breaking through once.

 

But at last, just when it seemed they must have climbed so many miles into the heavens that they must surely have reached the Jade Emperor's throne by now, the company came around a bend in the winding, narrow ledge that led up into the outer reaches of Mongolia. And suddenly, the land fell away before them, plunging down into a vast, rounded bowl, a valley circumscribed by mountains which rose like jagged teeth and brandished claws stretching to the pale alpine sky. But it was not the abrupt drop-off, the incredible scale of this hidden redoubt of castle-like crags and mammoth granite formations towering high above to dwarf them all, or even the dangerous, awful spikes jutting up from the far-distant valley floor, that made Tai Lung pause and freeze in place.

 

It was the sight across from them, rising against the cliff face, accessible only by the ledge which spiraled from where they stood around the valley to reach its yawning gates. It was a sight that made the snow leopard's heart lurch in his chest, made his insides turn to water and then to ice, even as his fists clenched involuntarily once again and an ugly growl rumbled within him, powerful enough to even vibrate Viper in his embrace.

 

"We're here," he whispered harshly, his breath escaping as a cloud of frozen mist.

 

Chorh-Gom. Perched on its distant shelf of rock, rising within the strangely-shaped hollow carved from the mountainside, overhung by a sharp, fang-like stalactite as if it sat within the maw of some gigantic, unseen creature buried beneath the stone and snow…it waited. Watched. Judged. Dark and ominous in the shadows despite the sun shining blindingly from the mounds of white which covered the mountain and had grown to nearly engulf it, it was a looming mass of solid rock shaped into an impressive maze of parapets, towers, and bulwarks rising to dominate the valley.

 

Watchtowers spearing upward like arrogant giants peering down at the land below them…peaked turrets with their curved roofs, like odd beasts of prey squatting atop their battlements…narrow windows, black and vacant, marching up the sides of the citadel, only adding to the lonely desolation of this tainted place…a proliferation of spikes lining the heights, meant to deter escape but only adding to the ugliness and bleakness of the place…iron catwalks bridging the distance between towers and sentry posts, their railings coated with ice and the spans themselves festooned with icicles…and of course, the enormous, gaping hole which had once been the iron-bound doors of the prison, now blown to shattered pieces scattered across the shelf and the slopes below. It was a grim, colorless, cruel, and monstrous place, a place he had never wanted to lay eyes on again…but he had no choice about the matter, he had to go inside it once more.

 

And as he stared at it, he couldn't stop certain memories from resurfacing, replaying again and again after having been burned deeply into his mind…

 

They stayed with him as the seven of them wound their way circuitously along the rim of the valley, rising upwards until they were below the battered, crumbling fortress, staring up warily at its foreboding exterior frowning down at them. They stayed with him as the group passed abandoned sentry huts, tumbledown storage sheds, and elaborate weight and pulley systems used to hoist supplies from the ground far below, now frozen solid in the pack ice. And they stayed with him as each of the kung fu warriors slogged through the snow until they stood at last on the massive expanse of rock fronting the keep, in the midst of the hastily-erected graveyard, gazing up at the dark, featureless walls and unlighted windows weeping frosted tears into the chill air.

_He'd fallen asleep during the long, uncomfortable journey from the Valley of Peace_ — _despite the constant ache of his paralyzed muscles and the strange numbness which seemed to have settled into his very marrow, Tai Lung had always been capable of tuning out pain and physical discomfort, allowing it to recede into the background or fade out altogether. The landscape had been dull, monotonous, and uninteresting. And even though his rage and hatred still roiled and churned within him, in the end the departure of his adrenaline rush had left him, perhaps for the first time in years, utterly winded and worn out. He needed rest. He needed sleep._

_But now, as the wagon bearing him jostled along the icy ruts in the roadway, rolling up the snaking ledge onto the shelf extending out before the monstrous gates rising high above his head, the snow leopard awoke abruptly. Immediately the mountain cold assailed him, and while his muscular bulk and incredibly thick pelt shielded him from the worst of it, the suddenness of it still took his breath away_ — _literally, as the air puffed out in a frozen cloud of white. For a few moments he breathed shallowly, accustoming himself to both the temperature and the higher elevation. Then he opened his eyes again and glared balefully up at the fortress that would be his prison._

_He had heard of it, though never had the occasion to visit it; while he'd had no reason to doubt the valor and usefulness of the Anvil of Heaven (their leader was quite a different story), he'd always preferred to work alone when battling the Mongols, and thus had no reason to fetch reinforcements from the garrison here. He had never once imagined it might become his involuntary home._

_The place was bleak, no question of that. Remote as they came, barren and ugly_ — _rather like the soul of its warden, he thought nastily. Shifu and Oogway were taking no chances, it seemed, putting him as far as possible from the Valley, its innocent citizens, anyone or anything he might bring harm to. But although the walls were thick, the redoubt shadowy and bitterly cold, and the soldiers on watch as vigilant and regimented as any he'd ever seen, it bothered him not. Chorh-Gom was impressive and well-fortified, to be sure. But it did not frighten him…and he knew that if he could decipher a way to break free of the infernal device holding him captive, he could escape this hellhole, this he swore._

_Yet when the wagon ground to a halt before the gates, even before the windlass began turning to creakingly and jerkily raise the barred grate which blocked access to them, his captor was already leaping down off the running board and turning to face him. Grunting painfully as the motion aggravated his busted ribs, Vachir clutched at his side even as he sneered in at his prisoner. "End of the line, buddy. You're right where you oughta be. And in case ya didn't know…this is gonna be the last time ya ever see the light of day. 'Cause once you go into Chorh-Gom Prison…you ain't **ever** gonna get out."_

_Tai Lung regarded him coolly, confidently, through the faintly swirling snow, and despite the fact he was immobilized by the tortoise shell, he knew he presented an image of cockiness, determination, and contempt. Even though he was the one restrained, he had the upper paw here. For Vachir would never break his spirit, no matter how viciously he tried. "That's what they all say," he said, bored and dismissive. "Threaten me all you like, barbarian. I'll survive it all…and remember every single detail of what you do to me. Which will come in very handy the day I escape from here. So just keep that in mind."_

_He expected his pronouncement to be met with either more blustering bravado, or a proper and healthy respect and fear. And he wasn't disappointed. But after the gleam of terror had vanished from those unintelligent eyes, and the rhino had thrust his chest out belligerently to throw his weight around, he didn't immediately lash out with shouts, roars, or crude invectives. Instead he narrowed his eyes and glared into the cage…and somehow, for the first time in his life, Tai Lung felt himself start to cringe and quail._

_He couldn't explain it, but there was something different, something dark and unbelievably twisted in those black orbs. A willpower just as strong as his own, possibly even more so. A capacity for revenge and hate just as intense and limitless. And an utter vindication that whatever cruel and unusual punishments he could think up and dish out, the snow leopard deserved every last one…and would experience them all._

 

" _It won't matter, kitty. Believe whatever you want. You ain't ever gettin' outta here, not while I'm alive. And I hope you do remember everything I do to you. I hope it sinks in bone-deep and stays there, so you can't ever forget it. 'Cause maybe then you'll finally understand how all those people back in the Valley feel. Bet they'd all applaud if they could see it! Give me another medal, maybe."_

_Vachir leaned in, his rather rancid breath billowing over Tai Lung's face as he began to unlock the cage to take him inside. "And I bet I know what you're thinking: Master Shifu wouldn't allow it. Well guess what? He doesn't give a rat's ass about you. He put you here to forget about you, and that's just what he's gonna do. It's what everyone's gonna do. Nobody cares about you anymore, if they ever did. You're worthless. You're nothing."_

_The cage door swung open, leaving nothing but empty space and snow-covered stone between him and the impenetrable darkness of Chorh-Gom. Somehow, all that emptiness frightened him even more… Vachir chuckled, low and mirthless, as he grabbed hold of the snow leopard's arm and roughly dragged him from the wagon. "And by the time I'm through with you, you're gonna know it, too…"_

 

"Tai Lung?"

 

The surprisingly soft voice of Tigress interrupted his horrible reverie, thankfully yanking him back to the present. Gratefully he turned to gaze at her…yet somehow, the expression of open pity on her striped face made his hackles rise, made him want to lash out at her for daring to feel sorry for him. He loved her…he wanted her to understand him…but she could never understand this. And he actually didn't want her to. No one could who hadn't been subjected to the same dehumanizing torture…and he certainly didn't want that to happen to her.

 

Wrenching his thoughts out of their black, vicious depths, he forced a tight, wintry smile he knew was not convincing in the least, would more resemble a disgusted grimace. "Sorry. Let's just say a little stroll down memory lane didn't exactly agree with me."

 

For a moment he thought she was about to comment on this, and he glared at her warningly…but then she seemed to think better of it and only nodded. "I know," was all she said. "But I'm afraid we do have to go in."

 

Squaring his shoulders, determined not to show fear, hesitation, uncertainty, or anything but his usual pride and determination, the snow leopard shrugged and moved past her to the open gateway. As he did so, he noticed both Shifu and Viper staring soberly, and in his father's case disapprovingly, at the countless headstones in the graveyard. Jutting his jaw out, he snapped, "I make no apologies and no excuses. Every single one of them deserved exactly what they got. And every one of them would have killed me, if I hadn't killed them first. You have a problem with that, take it up with Yeng-Wang-Yeh."

 

Everyone was stunned silent by the vehemence in his voice, although he thought he saw Monkey bristling out of the corner of his eye and cracking his knuckles. But at this point he was beyond caring—instead he only turned to face the entrance once more. As he stepped to the threshold, however, something gave him pause, made him shudder and halt in place.

 

Unlike the freezing temperatures of the outer slopes, the wind which now blew from the depths of Chorh-Gom was surprisingly, and unnervingly, warm…and there was a rank, fetid smell borne on its currents. Faint at first, but growing stronger with every passing moment, there was a very familiar odor rising up to meet him. Something horribly pungent, a stench which made his gorge rise and twisted his stomach in nauseated knots…the smell of rot and decay, the smell of death.

 

They were down there…all those he had slaughtered, all those who hadn't escaped in time, all those that hadn't been brought out and buried by their comrades. He remembered each and every face—sneering and scowling as he began his descent into the pit that would hold him for two decades, screaming in agony as he killed them during the thrilling exhilaration of his bid for freedom, jeering and laughing when they had teased and mocked him, frozen in twisted caricatures as their life fled them. And he remembered what they had done to him—almost every single one of them—for twenty years…though Vachir had done it the most often of all…

_He could feel the ragged stone of the pinnacle on which he knelt biting into his knees even through his trousers_ — _sometimes he was surprised it hadn't sliced through completely to slash open his flesh, until he remembered bitterly that he couldn't move and therefore rub against it. But just because his every limb was locked perpetually in place, didn't mean he couldn't feel pain. Oh no, he could still feel pain. No matter how much he wished he couldn't._

_A menacing shadow loomed over him, so hatefully familiar, so often a figure of his nightmares and the waking world alike that he had to wonder, fleetingly, if the rhino were truly there. Perhaps it was another hallucination, brought on by whatever they drugged his food with? His eyes still twitched violently whenever he recalled the last siege of images_ — _he didn't know which was worse, seeing the shapes of his 'guardians' twist and distort into sadistically grinning, horned demons that as far as he was concerned was just an outer reflection of their souls, or imagining Shifu standing before him, being the one clutching the scourge Vachir was so wont to use._

_Regardless, if he were free to do so, he would have been cowering in a mewling ball in the corner after the ghoulish sights faded. He would never admit such a demeaning thing…but it was true._

 

" _Well hey there, kitten," the sarcastic, contemptuous voice interrupted his thoughts, proving its owner was all too real. "How you holding up, eh? Hope ya like your…accommodations. I'd hate to think all my fine hospitality was going to waste."_

_How he wanted to mouth off at the commander, spit out the vilest insults he could think of, remind his warden over and over what terrible atrocities he would visit upon his body the moment he was free. But he couldn't…he knew what would happen if he did. Of course, Vachir would punish him anyway, but there was always the chance he might get bored, move on to other disgusting pleasures, if he stayed silent and unresponsive. If it wasn't screams, howls, and curses he wanted to elicit, of course._

_There was no warning; one moment he was crouching in enforced penitence (or more likely, subservience) before the rhino, eyes fixed irrevocably on the floor before him; the next, he was suddenly soaked from forehead to groin in ice-cold water. If he could have, he'd have gasped hugely (and probably swallowed enough water to choke on)_ — _even in the enclosed, windless interior of Chorh-Gom, it felt as if every inch of his exposed flesh had suddenly been embedded by needle-sharp spears of ice._

_He could only let out a hissing breath, all his restraints allowed, the bare modicum of autonomic functions to keep him living…but he could already feel the water freezing in his fur, and while he had no control over them, all of his muscles at once began twitching and shivering in a vain attempt to warm him._

_Another loud splash accompanied the second drenching, which covered the rest of his body down to his feet, and then the bucket was set aside. Chuckling low, gruff, and sinister, Vachir bent down to peer into his blazing golden eyes, the metallic, soldered replacement for a horn he'd lost long ago_ — _how, Tai Lung didn't know nor did he care_ — _so close he could count every rivet in its battered length. The torchlight gleamed from its surface, but somehow didn't reach the commander's eyes._

 

" _I think that'll do it," he leered. "Time to get those pants down, boy. Oh wait, I forgot…ya can't do that. Guess I'll just have to do the honors…"_

_Despite the numerous times this same exact scenario had played out before, the snow leopard felt his heart grow cold and almost cease beating in his chest. Despite the clear thrill Vachir got out of literally making a drowned cat out of his prisoner, and how close Tai Lung had come to hypothermia and pneumonia_ — _prevented only by the arresting of his chi also halting the progress of germs and keeping a constant, though tiny, heat burning deep inside him_ — _there was another reason for this torment._

_Water flattened his fur in place. Cold water tightened his skin._

_He heard it in the darkness…its leather ties loosening and rustling against the rhino's mail skirt as he unhooked it from his belt. He saw its silhouette shifting about, looking like some many-tailed, living thing. And as it lifted into the light, he saw that each of the lumpy knots and sharp spikes adorning it had telltale tufts of silvery-gray fur caught on them…each was a dark, sickly, brownish-red, a perpetual stain._

 

" _Maybe this time you'll get it, maybe this time you'll realize just what you did, and regret it," Vachir snarled, although Tai Lung had the feeling by now that he only said it by rote. He didn't truly believe it, he only mouthed the formula to justify his actions_ — _what he had sadistically enjoyed from the beginning, from the first days of his incarceration when his howls had literally echoed to the heights of the fortress._

_The indigo trousers came down, yanked into a rumpled heap around his knees. He flushed in shame_ — _not because he had anything to be ashamed of as a male, but because he knew Vachir would leave him just like this, for hours after the whipping had ended, his naked haunches in full view of all the guards watching over him as the blood flowed profusely… He could already feel it now, the lingering phantom pain soon to become all too genuine, and he cast a desperate prayer to the gods. Ignored, of course. He had been forsaken. It was as Vachir had said that first day, no one cared or ever would._

_Crack._

_Crack._

_His tail stiffened, twitching madly…the only outward indication of how excruciating and terrible his pain._

_Crack._

_Crack._

_He could feel it coating his legs, pooling around his knees, where it would later be scoured clean to remove all evidence, of course. Must keep up the niceties for when the Jade Palace emissary paid a call… He could feel the agony beginning anew_ — _how many years would Vachir keep this up? Would he never stop, not until all the flesh had been flayed from his bones? Until his thighs were nothing but a mass of scar tissue? Until even in his sleep, he would be nothing but a constant, tempestuous scream? The latter had already happened…_

_Closing his eyes, he tried to distance himself, to remember his training, to divorce his soul from his body, to take the sensations of life and set them aside as mere distractions, to recite the lessons of the thousand scrolls, of Buddha, of the Art of War. But he couldn't. All he could feel was the pain consuming him…and as tears began to leak from under his lids, tracing dark trails through his cheek fur, he let out a tiny whimper._

****

**_Baba…please. I'm sorry. I'll do anything. Anything you want. Just get me out of here. Please! I'm begging you! Oh gods…Baba…someone…save me…_ **

 

" _That's a good kitten…huh, what do you know, you do bleed after all!" Every time he said it the same, as if it were an astonishing new discovery. "And here I thought you just had ice in your veins and a heart of stone…"_

 

"We should go in," Crane murmured softly, once more breaking into Tai Lung's memories. And once again he turned about to stare in gratitude at the one who had freed him from the torment…this time only to nod, slowly and mechanically, before taking a deep breath and leading the way through the beckoning, ragged arch.

 

Within the vaulted entryway, where the bedrock of the mountain had been hollowed out by natural forces of erosion and the hands of man alike, the seven of them stood arrayed on the shelf that had once been the main guardhouse. Originally smooth, flat, and featureless save for paving stones, it was now littered with rubble, discarded weaponry and armor, piles of cinder and ash, toppled stalactites…and here and there, mounds which were barely recognizable as slumped corpses. Across the platform, of course, there was no longer a bridge to the inner barbican—that had been utterly destroyed by Vachir's last desperate ploy.

 

But the keep itself still rose into the darkness, impregnable and threatening…and to one side, almost invisible against the wall of the cavern, he spied a ledge so narrow that only one person could safely descend it at a time, unless they proceeded single-file. He didn't know why it was there—a natural feature of the peak, a safety measure to allow the guards access if the explosive charges had accidentally been detonated and cut the prison off from the outside world, who knew. But it gave them a way down, and into the citadel, which was imperative.

 

Because he knew, with an odd prescience, that they would have to descend as far as they could possibly go, that the _chi_ wizard would find the symbolism delicious and Vachir himself would want their confrontation to occur at the site of Tai Lung's greatest humiliation and suffering. They would have to find their way to the pinnacle where he had knelt for twenty years…the heart of darkness, and the depths of his personal hell.

 

In utter silence, they followed the dusty, thin trail of the ledge as it threaded its way around the vast circumference of the enormous chamber, a path none might have trodden in centuries for all the lack of wear and tear on the rocky surface. Without a word, the only sounds being their stentorian breathing and the scuffling of feet on the stone, they circled the hollow emptiness where the maze of bridges, catwalks, arches, and sentry watchtowers had once been…now all crumbled into the chasm below, brought down either by his violent escape or the collapse of the cavern roof above.

 

Yet somehow, the ledge always remained, endlessly spiraling them deeper into the cold, lightless reaches of Chorh-Gom—and on the few occasions where one of the collapsing spires had smashed through their path, somehow one of the tinier bridges had always survived unscathed, letting them cross to the other side of the natural rotunda and resume their course on the next segment of the ledge. It was almost as if someone had guided the destruction of the prison's upper reaches, making sure to preserve this route downward…

 

But as they passed arrow slits where archers had once stood with their crossbows at the ready, the windlass which had once raised and lowered the wooden elevator, and the spears he had used to leap and spring up along the walls still embedded where he had kicked them, Tai Lung saw none of this. All he was seeing was his memories.

 

Not only of his abusive torture—which he had succeeded in burying and blocking out until this moment, which whether he wanted them to be or not were now unveiling themselves with cruel slowness, burning themselves forever in his consciousness. But also, as if in deliberate counterpoint, memories of himself during his rampage of twenty years ago. And not only images, but sounds…voices…whispering, forever whispering of madness, vengeance, hatred, and death…

 

" _Whaddaya think the commander's gonna do to him today?"_

 

" _Think he'll do it? I bet he wants to; **I** wanna! Watching him like that, day after day…I'm gettin' anxious. And having those pants down is too damn tempting…he's got a nice, tight ass…"_

 

" _Whatever he does, I just love gettin' to watch…"_

 

" ** _No! Please no, I beg of you! What did we ever do to you, Tai Lung?"_**

 

" ** _Don't kill my husband…my children and I will starve without him!"_**

 

" ** _You were supposed to be our protector…our defender…our chosen hero! How could you do this?"_**

_The sounds, the endless sounds in the eternal night of Chorh-Gom. Laughter, raucous and crude, its source unidentifiable, its course in reaching his ears so winding it could not be traced_ — _it was like the walls themselves were mocking him. The silence itself, so intense and powerful it seemed to have an oppressive weight of its own, until it seemed to scream at him with its deafening quiet_ — _or were those whispers speaking to him, taunting him? The distant crack of whips and rattling of chains_ — _more horrific devices being prepared for him?_

_And water…dripping somewhere he couldn't see it, out of sight but never out of mind, arrhythmic and weirdly magnified, splashing and trickling and splattering until it seemed like thunder inside his skull, a river building to wash him away, a neverending thudding as of the nails sealing his coffin closed_ — _for was he not in a colossal casket? In the dark…alone…unable to move, to breathe…_

****

**_Flames, leaping and licking along wooden walls, curling under roof tiles and shingles, consuming one house after another with a wicked, demonic chuckle as if it were truly alive. Screams coming from within, begging to be let loose and saved, but he ignored them all. Fists pounding on another door, a man's voice shouting_** — ** _one he recognized, a rather odious, foul-mouthed, belligerent boar who was a member of the palace guard and fancied himself a kung fu warrior._**

****

**_He'd always looked down his snout at Tai Lung, believing himself so much better because he knew his ancestry back for fourteen generations, all the way to the time Oogway first came to the Valley…while the snow leopard didn't. He wasn't laughing now, though_** — ** _he was literally squealing in fear, tiny eyes wide and drooling mouth working frantically as he battered against the door until his fists bled from the splinters._**

****

**_But Tai Lung had blocked the door with a spear through the latch, and was leaning against it for good measure…and he had a fiery brand in his other paw, held high so its light flickered in the dirty glass before the pig's face. The soldier had time for one startled oath and a pleading look before the snow leopard ignited the house…then stepped back, closing his eyes and breathing deeply of the smoky air, the sounds of the building's occupant shrieking to the heavens like music to his ears…_ **

_Guards, coming out to 'visit' him on his pinnacle at all hours of the night, so that he could never sleep more than an hour at a time…punching or kicking him awake whenever he nodded off, so that after four days he was bleary-eyed and bone-tired, and after nine he was absolutely haggard, his eyes playing tricks on him and incessant voices alternately begging and demanding he sleep running around the insides of his beleaguered mind like fluttering moths._

_When he tried to reject his food and water to keep from being drugged, they punished him by setting it down just out of reach of his tail, the tantalizing aromas of vegetables and gravy calling to his aching, rumbling belly, his tongue like a cracked stone lying in a vast salt flat as it yearned for the life-giving liquid_ — _so that by the time they finally gave his starved, dehydrated self what he craved, he took it without protest no matter what they might have put in it._

_And always, Vachir was there…leaving it to his men to patrol the ramparts, and his lieutenants to see to supplies, organization, and record-keeping, he would forever watch the snow leopard like an unmoving statue. Gloating over him…sneering at him…speaking to him in low, hushed, snide tones. Informing him of developments in the outside world, as if he knew how these reports only exacerbated Tai Lung's sensation of being sealed away and buried alive, reminding him of what he did not have and never could again._

_And of course, forever taunting him, demeaning him, belittling him with mocking, diminutive nicknames; 'kitty' was the **least** objectionable. Not to mention how bruised and sore his tail became from the repeated stomps upon it_— _only adding insult to injury. It never ended…only lessening when he refused to show any reaction, physically or verbally, but still carried on throughout the years…until he was certain he'd go mad_ — _if he hadn't already._

****

**_He stood over the cowering form of an overweight wolf, one of the worthless, pathetic leaders of the village, an elder of some sort_** — ** _he'd never bothered to catch the specifics the few times he'd gotten days off from training to come down into the Valley proper. The rich robes, simpering expression, and plump physique all served together to set his teeth on edge and enrage him all the more…they seemed to exemplify the life of a pampered politician, a man who knew nothing of labor, physical prowess, or dedication to a combative craft. More to the point, the fellow had made the fatal mistake of trying to bar his path, peremptorily raising a paw and ordering him to turn back from the stairs and 'desist this unseemly display, so he could be remanded into custody for a proper hearing'. And that meant he had to be eliminated._**

****

**_It had not taken long at all…he hadn't bothered to savor it, for while the canine had interfered with his true purpose, he was only a bothersome insect in the scheme of things_** — ** _he was not one of those who had reviled and rejected him as an orphan, or dismissed his worth because he had been denied the Dragon Scroll. So he only received a moment of sheer terror, as Tai Lung hauled him up by the front of his robes…and then, after baring his fangs in a heartless, cruel grin, he brandished the claws of his other paw and literally ripped the wolf's throat out._**

****

**_The body was tossed aside in a bloody heap on the cobblestones…he proceeded onward toward the moon bridge and his encounter with the rhinoceros guards of the palace…and only as he happened to glance back upon hearing a whimpering cry did he realize with a chill what he had done: in the street, kneeling down over the prone corpse and gently shaking it as if believing it could simply be awoken, was a little wolven boy. His golden eyes briefly met the teary ones of the cub, which filled with unreasoning hate_** — ** _and he was forced to turn away._**

****

**_The elder had had a child…and he'd been killed in front of him. Tai Lung had made the boy an orphan…how many others might he have created, unknowingly? Yet he refused to think further on it, only continuing on to the Jade Palace. Only the scroll mattered…_ **

 

By this time the seven masters, having removed and stowed away their parkas in the relatively warmer interior, had reached the lowest levels of the prison, where the rock was honeycombed by an entire warren of passages, tunnels, guardrooms, and hidden doors—something which Tai Lung hadn't even been aware was there, since he hadn't exactly been given a grand tour of the facility upon arrival. He recalled now, vaguely, that Chorh-Gom had not always been a prison…it had once been a fortress built to withstand attacks by the Mongols, the same as the Great Wall.

 

So surely if the place had fallen under siege, there would need to be secret exits to the surface, to passes and unknown valleys beyond the high ridges of Tavan Bogd which would allow food and supplies to be ferried in and out—and for the soldiers to escape through should Chorh-Gom be overrun. Having built it, Vachir would know it like the back of his hand…that was likely how he had gotten in ahead of them, and without leaving any sign of his approach on the ledge above. Sourly, the snow leopard reflected that if he had known of these back entrances, he could have made his escape much more easily, if less spectacularly.

 

Yet all of this was merely a backdrop, for what truly occupied his mind was the memories he'd tried to forget, the horrors he'd experienced…and inflicted upon others. He had not wished to remember the blandishments Vachir had forced him to endure…nor had he wanted to accept the truly heinous acts he had committed. Now, he could not turn away from them no matter how he tried. Each and every wound given to him, whether by word or weapon, now seared into him as if it just had been dealt yesterday. Worse, he stared unflinchingly into his own visage as he performed his rampage—and indeed, as so many, from Xiulan to Tigress, had said, the face of evil was his own.

 

Which meant that in a naked moment of self, he found he accepted what had been done to him as only fitting and right. However excessive, however repugnant and awful the rhino's actions, the simple fact was…when set alongside the crimes he'd committed during his rampage, he deserved every last bit of it. It was justified. He could suffer twice as much as what Vachir put him through, and it would never expunge his actions, or the guilt he now felt for them. It could never be undone…

 

Finally, as they reached by way of the labyrinth of corridors the same chamber which the wooden elevator had once led to, where the double layer of doors was all that stood between them and the narrow bridge to the pinnacle, Shifu stopped abruptly. Wheeling about, the red panda ignored the rest of the Five, who eyed him with looks ranging from frustrated and annoyed to concerned and curious, for he had his attention fixed on Tai Lung.

 

He cleared his throat meaningfully…flinching and jerking his head up from where he'd been studiously contemplating the rocky floor, the snow leopard forced himself to look his father right in the eyes. He saw the intensity, determination, and worry in Shifu's eyes; and the old master saw in Tai Lung's the near-constant horror and instability that had been his companions since they entered Chorh-Gom, if not longer.

 

"Tai Lung," he said at last, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness, so that all of them jumped. "I think you and I both know who we will be facing here. But only you know why. If we are to fight…him…at all, either bringing him to justice or ending his threat for good—if we are to survive at all—you need to tell us what is going on." Shifu took a deep breath and folded his hands in front of his chest.

 

"Now, I will be the first to admit I don't have a spiritual bone in my body. Certainly nothing like Oogway. But even I can feel something is wrong…in our adversary, in this place, and especially in you. What is going on?"

 

He wanted to tell him. But he was afraid to…he didn't like the idea of doing so in front of the Five, especially Monkey and Mantis, and not even Tigress…and he didn't see what good it would do. It would change nothing. He would either look weaker, or more human, depending on how charitable the listener in question was; but in the end, Vachir and his vendetta would still remain, there would be only one way to settle it—and it would be between the rhino and the snow leopard.

 

"Son." Again he looked at Shifu, was startled by the depth of emotion in his upturned face. "I asked you once before…please don't shut me out again."

 

Tai Lung had to bite his tongue to hold back an angry retort. That day, he remembered all too well…

 

" _So…are you…well, Tai Lung? How are they treating you here?"_

_The red panda's voice sounded as strained, awkward, and patently absurd as the expression on his face looked. If Tai Lung were free to move, to act, to do anything like a normal person would, he didn't know what he would have done: laugh derisively, smash that look of feigned paternal devotion into pieces, or respond with sarcastic commentary on Chorh-Gom's elegant cuisine and accommodations fit for the Emperor_ — _words so dripping with disdain and hatred that Shifu could swim in them like molasses._

_But since he was not free, since all he could move was his tail and his face to express himself, he chose complete inaction. He only stared at his former master…the fire in his eyes muted but unmistakable as they bored into the panda, the menacing growl he longed to utter held back, leaving the pinnacle utterly silent. Something he knew from experience was far more unnerving than the fiercest, most blood-curdling of roars._

 

" _I have been checking Commander Vachir's logs," Shifu said at last, either when he realized no reply was forthcoming or when he could stand the quiet no longer. "He is quite the thorough, meticulous record-keeper_ — _I must admit to being surprised. And he says you have been given all the amenities that can be mustered under the circumstances…the best meals his salary can provide, as much comfort as can be expected without actually releasing you. He even made a note of 'special treatment' he's able to give you because you're his only prisoner. I do believe you should count yourself lucky he is your warden."_

_If he could have, Tai Lung would have beaten the panda senseless for that one_ — _granted, Shifu could have no idea how grossly inaccurate such a statement was, nor the other meaning insinuated in 'special treatment', but how could the old master be so pathetically naïve? Still, he couldn't even snarl to cut Shifu off, or attempt to explain, even if he felt like it, even if he thought he'd be believed…for surely Vachir or one of his men was listening in from the other side of the doors, and would make him pay for even the tiniest slip about his true condition. Sullen, depressed, and simmering, the snow leopard simply stared straight ahead and said nothing._

 

" _I'm to be given the silent treatment, am I? I know you can still speak."_

_Blink._

 

" _Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Surely you must want to fill my ears with complaints about the unfairness of your imprisonment."_

_Blink. Blink._

_Shifu sighed and looked mournful. "Tai Lung, you and I both know this was for your own good. For whatever reason, you became completely unhinged, lashing out at hundreds of innocents who never did a thing to you. You had to be sealed away_ — _you were not only a danger to others, but also to yourself. But I will let you free, if you can convince me I should. If you realize your grave errors, and can truly repent of them."_

****

**_Why should I be sorry, you treacherous little rodent? You wouldn't stand up to Oogway. You wouldn't give me what you know I earned fair and square. My life is ruined because of you! And I don't care one whit about anyone in that valley. I enjoyed every moment of what I did, because they deserved it after how they treated me. They brought it on themselves._ **

_The red panda lowered his voice until it was barely audible, until only one with his sharp hearing could detect his words. "No matter what you did, however, you are still my son. I will not countenance any abuse to you of any sort. If anything untoward has occurred, please tell me. I will ensure it never happens again. I want you properly taken care of."_

****

**_Oh, this is rich! Where were you a year ago, three years ago, when I pleaded for you? Why did you never come when I truly needed you? What kind of father leaves me to this fate, and doesn't even bother to check and make sure he can trust the jailor before throwing away the key? How dare you pretend you care what I'm going through? If you really did, you'd release me._ **

_A hard, grim line replaced Shifu's mouth, and he stood up stiff and straight as he skewered the snow leopard with a dismissive, if doleful, look. "Fine. If that's the way you want to be, if you're just going to sulk and reject every damn olive branch I offer you, then there's nothing more I can do for you. If you change your mind, if you decide to make amends, or if there's anything you want to tell me, have Vachir send word to me."_

_He turned to leave. And finally, when the panda was almost all the way across the bridge, and about to knock on the doors to be let out, he finally raised his head and spoke. While his mouth was free to move, his chest remained paralyzed, providing him with little air to work with…but he didn't need much, as he only spoke three words:_

 

" _Leave me alone."_

 

"You don't have to say anything, buddy," Mantis suddenly interrupted the feline's dark, morose thoughts. "I think it's pretty obvious what happened." He leaped up on Tai Lung's shoulder and rested his pincers sympathetically on the side of his neck. "I was just joking before…but I was right, wasn't I? Vachir and his men…they raped you, didn't they?"

 

Somewhere off to the side, Viper gagged, and a hiss of infuriated hatred came from Tigress's direction. But the snow leopard could only stare first at Mantis, then Crane's knowing look, and the expression of surprising disbelief and disgust on Monkey's face, before he let out an infuriated growl. He managed, this time, not to send the insect hurtling into a stone wall, but he did shake his fist in front of those beady eyes.

 

"Damn it all, is that all you _ever_ think about? Why does everything have to be about sex…why does everyone have to jump to the worst possible conclusion?" Chest swelling and heaving visibly with his burgeoning emotions, he began stalking back and forth across the chamber, tail lashing violently as he worked himself up against his will. This single thoughtless remark had uncorked twenty years of repressed hate, trauma, and revulsion—and where once he would have again refused to answer on the grounds it was none of their bloody business, now he couldn't help but explain himself.

 

"For your information, you witless little stick, that blasted shell on my back made it so no one could get to my arse, even if they wanted to! But that's not the point…the point is, there's a hell of a lot of things that can happen to you in a prison with a thousand men and no women, and they don't involve violation!"

 

Shifu blinked slowly, then clutched at his goatee with one hand as he took a step back. "No, I…I don't understand! When I came to visit, when I sent messengers, you were always in perfect condition, there was never any sign of—"

 

Tai Lung barked a mirthless laugh. "Of _course_ there wasn't! That overbearing bastard may not have wanted to be standing guard over me night and day, but he sure as hell wasn't going to jeopardize his cushy job security with you and Oogway, was he? He made sure to do things to me that left no marks, things you couldn't see!" He began gruffly and fiercely striking his fingers as he recited the litany. "Shaming, sleep deprivation, starvation, verbal abuse, pharmacological torture—he did it all! You already put me in isolation, in the dark and the cold, but he ramped things up to eleven, didn't he?"

 

Bitterly, he added, "I'd love to know how he learned so much psychological torment—or is that a Mongolian thing? The only thing he ever did that left any evidence behind was _that_." And he pointed to where he saw, to his instinctive terror, the whip Vachir had reserved for his personal use, still coiled and hung from a nail to the right of the door. "It was always under my clothes, and they made sure to use bandages and dressings so nothing would bleed through and give the game away—they always had plenty of time to prepare before you arrived."

 

Scornful and contemptuous, he stabbed violently and repeatedly at his own temple as he stared down at his father—to suggest how dense the panda was, how if he would only have used his brain, he'd have figured this out long ago. Yet he also knew from how blurry his vision was getting that, whether he wished it or not, his eyes were welling up with stinging tears—and the more he spoke, the more choked and interspersed with sobs his voice became. "So…what d'you think of _that_ , Father? Still want to have a statue raised in his honor? Still think he was a great and noble warrior?"

 

For several long minutes, as he heaved and gasped with the force of his tirade, fists clenching and unclenching, the room was so silent it was as if he were utterly alone here save for the dead. On almost every face he saw shock, anguish, and sorrow turning to fury, hatred, and murderous rage. Crane managed to keep his cool of course, and Mantis only looked decidedly grim—at the revelation of herbs and medicines being used in such a horrific way, he supposed. But Viper was weeping openly, and a seething Tigress looked ready to skin Vachir alive and flail him herself.

 

But the snow leopard's attention was riveted on Shifu. The red panda stared up at him, that same look of denial filling his enormous eyes—one of which was twitching so violently he looked ready to have a stroke. "No…no, it couldn't be…how could he…he was the bravest, most valorous man in the Anvil of Heaven…"

 

His husky voice trailed off as he gazed up into Tai Lung's face—saw the tears his son would never before have allowed himself to shed, the fluttering and jerking of his throat as he struggled to rein in his stressed convulsions, and the abject misery in his downcast face and hollow eyes. He could see it had to be the truth. In spite of himself, a savage joy filled the spotted feline as he saw the moment the true enormity of it hit Shifu—how he had placed his only son in the hands of a monster, how any insanity and bloodlust Tai Lung had possessed had only been made ten times worse by his years in Chorh-Gom, how all this time his pitiful defenses of Vachir's honor had been not only woefully misplaced, but negligent and idiotic.

 

Those oversized ears drooped…lowered…flattened themselves against Shifu's head, as he suddenly looked decades older, such an ashen grey beneath his fur he thought for a moment the old master would pass out. Then, unexpectedly, he stiffened and rose to his full height, ears perking forward in unwavering determination. Never had Tai Lung seen his father look so angry—the guilt had been replaced by a hatred so intense it made the snow leopard's look like embers next to a roaring inferno.

 

"If this is true," he said at last, his voice shaking not with uncertainty or fear but with rage, "if he did this…then I'm going to _kill_ him. He is going to die, and I'm going to do it myself."

 

A brief silence answered him, before each of the Five threw in their agreement (though Tai Lung noticed Monkey's seemed typically half-hearted). Despite what had been done to him, despite the memories that haunted him, and despite still believing, secretly, that all he had endured had been appropriate and even needed, the snow leopard couldn't help but look at each of his fellow masters with respect, camaraderie, and friendship.

 

They did understand…they cared for him…they would stand by him, even though he didn't deserve it. Even though he could never truly be punished enough for his sins. And Shifu—it was so long delayed, but at last, at long last, he had come. He was here to help his son…

 

He had just placed his paws on Crane and Tigress's shoulders, then bent down to gather the red panda close for an embrace, when a rough, vicious, nasty voice spoke from behind him, as taunting and snide as ever. One he had heard in his dreams, one he could never forget no matter how much he wished to. One which spoke from the shadowy corner nearest the doors, even though he hadn't heard them open— _almost as if he had formed from the darkness itself._

 

"Awwww, ain't that sweet. The widdle kitty's gone and got himself some playmates. And he's got his Baba back to hold his paw and keep the big mean rhino away." The voice hardened, even though it still held a trace of amusement and insinuation. "Ya wanna kill me, eh, Shifu? Well here I am…why don't ya take your best shot? I guarantee, I got some tricks you ain't _never_ seen before."

 

Slowly, as if in a dream and watching himself from afar, Tai Lung turned…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a little credit where it's due. The scene is Qinghe is somewhat inspired by a moment in Robert Jordan's _Great Hunt_ , although the message found on the jackal's chest is one I swiped from an old ghost story about a whole town in Brazil that went missing. For that matter, the bit about the bodies all being dug up from the cemetery was an homage to the old story about the missing Eskimo village. Just a nice way for me to draw upon old, possibly familiar, horror elements. While I'm noting some of my sources, the approach to Chorh-Gom and how it is described owes a bit to Terry Brooks. Also, Yeng-Wang-Yeh is the Chinese god of death—or one of them, anyway, they had a whole group of Lords of Death who judged people's souls, but Yeng-Wang-Yeh was the leader of them.
> 
> Two other points. Some may wonder about the attention I devote here to not only the torture that Vachir and his men inflicted upon Tai Lung (and yes, I did research to depict it accurately—humans can be real bastards, can't they?), but also to the terrible things Tai did during his rampage. On the one hand, Tai clearly knows now that what he did was wrong, and he regrets it to the core of his being. But I still showed him doing it. This might seem to be muddying the waters, making it harder to tell who is right, who is wrong, whom you should sympathize with here. _And that is the whole point_. Rarely in life is morality ever black and white. If what I wrote here made anyone uncomfortable, congratulations—it made me uncomfortable to write it. But I couldn't ignore it, hide from it, or look away.
> 
> If we are going to believe Tai Lung can redeem himself, we also have to admit what it was he did. Because if someone who committed such terrible atrocities can truly atone, then there is still hope for us as a species. Pretending things were not as bad as they were in order to make it easier on ourselves is not only false, it's counterproductive—if forgiveness was that easy, no one would ever have problems doing it, would they? It's when it's fiendishly, terribly difficult, but people do it anyway, that it has more meaning. Am I saying we should forgive Hitler, if he had ever truly repented what he did? I really don't know. But I do think that only by considering such things, pushing the boundaries, or as Nietzsche put it, _'And when you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you,'_ can we grow as writers and as people.
> 
> Secondly, the moment when Tai Lung rails against the conclusion Mantis jumps to. That was, I confess, a slight author tract on my part. I have no problem with people who assume Tai Lung was prison raped, since such a thing really can be done well and with the proper drama. Case in point, Luna's "Present". And I certainly do not mean to suggest that rape is not a horrible thing, and should not be treated with horror, anger, and severe punishment when it happens. What I am suggesting is that always jumping to rape as the answer whenever it's required to think of a 'worst case scenario' is wrong. Not only are there many, many things in life that are just as bad, or almost as bad, and I included a large number of them here, but if we fall into the trap of, as TV Tropes puts it, assuming 'Rape is the New Dead Parents' (the automatic thing to include when wanting to be dramatic and/or traumatic), we are in danger of a) lessening the sting of other, equally awful possibilities and b) desensitizing ourselves to rape itself. Hence why I made it a point to address the issue now. I hope it didn't come across as dropping an anvil on your head...then again, perhaps some people out there need to have it dropped.
> 
> Anyway, I'll get off my soap box now.


	30. Piercing the Veil

 

 

On a hill crowned with the Valley's ubiquitous peach trees, overlooking its northern rim and the rutted roadway that led up into the mountains extending all the way from Hubei into Henan, Shen Zhuang paused, placing one hand against the nearest tree trunk so he could gaze into the forest glade below, and at the single, lonely dwelling which stood within it. Even if he had not known who lived there, the proliferation of stonemason's and logger's tools, wheelbarrows of marble and crushed quartz, and piles of wooden planks in the backyard would have given away that someone with knowledge of construction called this place home.

 

But he did know whose house it was…and the fact the place was utterly silent, without activity in the yard, no sounds of work being done, and no smoke coming from the chimney were very bad signs indeed.

 

The bull sighed heavily. It was not that he particularly cared anything for Wei Chang himself; as he had told Tai Lung almost two months ago, everyone in the Valley knew what a crass, bellicose, and frankly unlikable fellow the elephant was, and no one had at all minded seeing his peremptory and arrogant manner of delegating responsibility removed from the repair work. But the fact of the matter was, even if Zhuang could not condone Chang's attitude toward and treatment of the snow leopard, he understood why the pachyderm harbored such hatred and distrust for him.

 

For just as Xiulan had lost her first husband in the rampage, Chang had lost his first love. Zhuang didn't know about it firsthand of course, having only been two years old at the time, but the elephant had been happy enough, so to speak, to regale anyone who would listen with the tale of his woes. And other old gossips in town had confirmed that the story was not merely an exaggeration or fabrication to justify the ex-foreman's complete lack of manners.

 

Hearing about it, of course, the bull couldn't believe the young elephant sow's death had been intentional on Tai Lung's part—aside from the fact he had been in a mindless rage and killing anyone who got in his way, rather than rationally calculating who were the biggest threats or whose deaths would cause the most tragedy, the snow leopard had seemed above all to target only men. They were the ones who attempted to stop him from reaching the Jade Palace and claiming the Dragon Scroll, and they had been the ones to mock and demean the orphaned feline, not the womenfolk.

 

From the more objective and reasonable accounts Zhuang had heard at the tavern, Chang's lover (and whom it seemed he'd intended to propose to just a few days after the rampage) had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The infamous 'whirlwind of doom' Tai Lung had performed by the village well had ended when, after scattering a large group of pigs and geese until they either fled the scene or lay groaning and on the verge of unconsciousness on the cobblestones, the snow leopard had let the bucket fly with nonchalant unconcern, tossing it to the side.

 

And as he'd headed off for the palace, he hadn't even noticed that the bucket had struck the elephant sow full force in the face, breaking the bridge of her nose and sending her hurtling across the square—a short journey that had ended when her head slammed into the corner of a building and caved in.

 

It had hardly been premeditated or malicious, yet that hadn't mattered to Wei Chang—nor had it mattered he'd eventually met Hai and married her. Like Xiulan, what mattered to him was the loss of a loved one, a life cut terribly short, a grief so intense and painful it had changed the builder's life forever. Apparently, it had not only destroyed his happiness and his future, it had also ruined his personality—though it was hard to believe, the few friends the elephant had claimed he'd been a much kinder, gentler, loving sort before the rampage.

 

After it…his despair and suffering had turned into cruelty and resentment, and his thirst for justice had become one for vengeance. Not satisfied with Oogway's lifelong imprisonment for Tai Lung, he had wanted to see the spotted feline executed—preferably as messily, horrifically, and publicly as possible—and when this denouement had not been forthcoming he had allowed it to stew and fester within him. He had sunk into a permanent vicious nastiness, one that played no favorites and struck out at anyone he met.

 

Why Shifu would then have employed him as the Jade Palace foreman, after allowing Tai Lung to dwell there again and work to turn his life around, the bull had no clue; he was not the sort to judge others, cast disparagement, or even openly criticize, particularly someone as revered and sometimes feared as the red panda, but he privately suspected the kung fu master had simply fallen prey to his usual tendencies. Namely, being so focused solely on the lives of his students and the furtherance of his vocation and philosophy that he didn't know much of anything about the lives of the Valley's regular citizens, and didn't care to know.

 

Nevertheless, Zhuang understood. He knew how he would feel if something like that happened to Xiulan. At the time they'd married, many had questioned their relationship, of course; even now, some still did. She herself had questioned it at first, when he told her he loved her; she had been unable to believe a young, virile, handsome man like himself would see anything in someone so much older than he. She had accused him of being a golddigger, only wanting to latch onto the small fortune she possessed as a widow—her first husband had received an extremely high salary for the time thanks to his membership in the prestigious Jade Palace Guard, and the compensation she'd received from Master Oogway upon his death had been even more considerable.

 

Many villagers had in turn accused her of seeking a new husband so as to no longer be bound by rules of chastity (no one in town disputed Zhuang's attractiveness, something which had always embarrassed him), or in order to have children who would enrich her household even more. And still others wondered why she would want to lose the relative freedom and autonomy she possessed as head of her household.

 

But the simple fact was, he had always been a humble, unassuming fellow, never one to put himself forward for anything, including seeking a wife—no matter how much his father had wanted him to, so as to have someone to carry on the line and to support with his builder's craft.

 

Unlike so many young men, Zhuang had wanted his marriage to be for love, and at the same time his complete innocence when it came to women made him long for someone with experience, someone who knew the ropes and could guide him in what was right and proper. The day he had met Xiulan, he'd been working in the quarry when a minor rock fall had torn several enormous, ragged holes in his only good shirt. Even though he'd barely had the yuan to pay for a money pouch let alone anything more expensive, he'd gone to the local seamstress' to get his shirt repaired.

 

There he'd been awed and impressed by the cow woman's proficiency, skill, and calm, businesslike acumen. She'd had such poise, such grace and knowledge—and when she'd refused to repair a shirt that already had so many patches, only to sew him an entirely new one for the same price as the patching, he'd been floored by her generosity and caring. Some might have accused Xiulan of only wishing to have a shirtless, husky young man in her shop for a few hours, but he didn't mind one bit.

 

In fact the more time he spent around her, the more he'd grown to admire her competence and intelligence. He'd also discovered right away how lonely and sad a figure she was…something he'd been compelled to assuage, taking her on one restaurant outing after another, until he was nearly broke. Just because he wanted to see her smile again, to make her laugh, to give her a reason to be happy and believe in hope and kindness again. To have the family she'd always dreamed of, but never gotten to have.

 

Yes, the love that had blossomed between him and Xiulan, that he had given her, was something special and precious, something it would kill him to lose, something he would die to protect. If having that taken from him, regardless of the family he now possessed, had made Chang what he was, Zhuang could understand. But even that was not why he had decided to make the trip to the outskirts of the Valley to check up on the elephant.

 

Regardless of whatever sympathy he might have for his former employer, and despite the off-putting attitude Chang directed at the world around him, the simple truth was that ever since the elephant had been fired by Master Shifu, no one in the Valley had heard from him. And with the terrible slew of grisly killings which had begun to encircle and terrorize the Valley's citizens, this continued silence had begun to worry the bull because of what it also suggested about Chang's kind, loving wife and innocent son.

 

Now that he saw the apparently abandoned house, he was even more worried. It was possible, of course, that after losing his job Chang had simply departed the Valley with his family and not told anyone. But he would not have left his wagons and tools behind, still sitting in the yard. And with Zeng vanishing, only to reappear in such a stunned, uncommunicative state, refusing to explain who or what had harmed him—but it being a well-known fact at the palace that the goose had last been seen flying in this direction, and had been tasked with calling people in from the outlying boundaries of the Valley, including Chang…well, it didn't take much to put two and two together.

 

Swallowing to himself, Zhuang squared his shoulders and began the descent from the hill, toward the deserted structure.

 

By the time he had reached the front steps and climbed onto the veranda, the bull's nerves were frayed to thin tendrils, about ready to snap. For he had circled the entire house and found nothing, no signs of any habitation or that anyone had ever lived here—save for the telltale equipment: an axe still buried in a stump, a sledgehammer inside of the wagon of stone, a basket of laundry that had grown mold from being left out in the damp for who knew how long. There were a few gray feathers in the grass near the edge of the forest which looked suspiciously like those of the palace messenger, but nothing conclusive. No footprints on the ground…no marks at all to indicate someone's passage.

 

Now that he stood on the porch, listening to the house creak and moan in the mountain wind, even though there was absolutely nothing out of place, Zhuang felt his skin crawl. He had never been a particularly spiritual man, but he could _feel_ something wrong…

 

Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, he strode purposefully to the door, clopping his hooves as hard as he could on the wooden planks to alert anyone within that he was there—since there was no real way he could be stealthy, he decided to brazen it out instead. If something had happened to Chang and his family, and whoever had done it were still hanging around, perhaps he would frighten them off; if not, he could at least let the poor elephants know someone was here to rescue them. Assuming they were still alive to hear him.

 

The door wasn't locked—another bad sign—so he soon found himself standing in the front hallway of the house. Warily, he peered about. Through one doorway, he could just see the kitchen with a table bearing a vase of flowers…flowers that had apparently not been watered in some time, since they had wilted and shriveled into dried husks.

 

From his vantage point, he could see dishes in the sink beneath the pump, and while he couldn't tell from this distance whether or not they were clean, the simple fact they were there and not properly put away in the cupboards, as the rather fussy Hai would have insisted on, was rather fishy indeed. Worse, sitting on the floor next to a chair was a pack he recognized as belonging to Chang. One stuffed with various tools of the trade…one the builder would never have let out of his sight, especially if he'd been preparing for a trip as it appeared.

 

Zhuang glanced the other directions. To the left, an expansive parlor with a dividing screen to one side, painted with swirling waves and clouds, a hand-woven rug on the floor, a low table covered with dust. Children's toys had been scattered about, left lying in the way of foot traffic—another no-no in this house. Straight ahead, a set of stairs led toward the upper floor, which was as tomb-like as the rest of the house, and another hall bisected the building, heading toward Chang's private workshop. A door along its length, which he recalled led to the basement, stood closed.

 

He pondered whether he should explore further, and if so where he should start—while much seemed unusual, nothing seemed actually out of place, as if there had been a struggle. But just as he was about to go up the stairs, he paused…for he had heard a sound. At first he couldn't even tell what it was and spent several minutes trying to figure it out rather than pinpoint its source. But then, when he heard it again, he realized with an uncomfortable frisson of fear that it had come from very nearby, but downward, below the angle of his hearing. Under the floor, in the earthen cellar.

 

It was foolish, dangerous, possibly fatal to his health. But he knew he had to check. What if the elephants had gone down to fetch something, only to fall and badly injure themselves? They could die while he fled in a ridiculous terror of some supposedly villainous killer lurking under his feet. And if there _was_ someone waiting to attack an unsuspecting investigator…well, he was hardly defenseless.

 

Moving down the hall to the workroom, he discovered that like everything else here, the tools and benches were covered with dust, everything left as if Wei Chang had simply stepped out for a bit and would be back any moment. He didn't know the inventory well enough to tell if anything was missing. He only grabbed a lantern from its hook on a ceiling post, then an adze which had a very satisfying weight in his hand.

 

As Zhuang returned to the corridor and was about to open the basement door, he heard the sound again, and this time it was much clearer—a cry? A whimper? Or perhaps a moan? Whatever it was, it was definitely made by a living thing, not simply the wind… As he hesitated again, listening intently, he happened to glance down at the floor—and gasped.

 

Clearly visible, even under the dust, was two sets of identical marks on the old boards, the sort of deep scrapes caused by something very heavy being dragged over it. They led right to the cellar door…and there, at the threshold, he spotted a dark and ugly stain, something reddish-brown.

 

His hand shook so hard as he struck flint and tinder to light the lantern that it took him several tries. Yet he refused to move a step until he had the perhaps illusionary safety of its reassuring glow. Finally, the flame caught…then, shivering, he hefted the adze, unlatched the door, and started down.

 

The first thing which came to Zhuang, of course, was the cold. The cellar was underground, used to store fruits, vegetables, and roots throughout the winter months, so naturally it would not retain much heat. But even so, it somehow seemed unusually cold, so that the hairs stood up all over his body…or perhaps that was because he could hear the sounds much better now (though he wished he couldn't)—they were most certainly weeping and moaning, what sounded like that of a woman.

 

Or it could have been because he could smell the thick, cloying scent of blood, and underlying it the odor of death, old death. His gorge rose.

 

"Hello? Is…is anyone there?" He wished his voice didn't sound as tremulous and quavering as a child's.

 

The sounds stopped abruptly. Then, from the shadows at the far end of the cellar, nearest the angled doors which let someone in the backyard dump produce or timbers into the underground room without entering the house, he heard a soft voice, made faint by hoarseness, fear, or weakness. "Who is it? Has…someone come?"

 

It sounded like a feminine voice. A familiar one. "Yes. It's Shen Zhuang, from the village. Hai? Is that you?" He took a few tentative steps closer.

 

A sob—of relief, of anguish, of pain. "Kwan Yin be praised! She has shown mercy upon us, I was certain we'd been forsaken…he said no one would find us…that our pain, and terror, and grief, would…feed him for many months to come. That he wouldn't let us die until…he'd drawn all he could from our souls…"

 

Zhuang's mouth was dry, and his heart thudded so hard against his chest he was positive it would soon leap out from behind his ribcage. But when he raised the lantern high and projected its golden circle into the far corner, he almost dropped it to smash on the floor, and did drop the adze—for he had to swiftly clap a hand over his mouth to keep from screaming, or losing his last meal all over the wall.

 

At that end of the cellar, there was a series of hooks extending from the massive rafters which formed the framework beams of the floor above—likely meant to hang sacks of spices, dried herbs, and potatoes free of vermin and such. But just now, they were threaded with an intricate network of ropes and cords, almost like a spider's webbing, from which was suspended the sort of grappling hooks used to pull down crumbling walls so they could be replaced and rebuilt. These hooks had in turn been embedded…in the backs, limbs, shoulders, and ears of three bodies.

 

Little Kuen was already dead, and looked to have been for…longer than Zhuang wanted to contemplate. From the fact his chest and stomach—what was left of them—was soaked in dried blood, and flies buzzed all around him, it was clear he'd been killed before he was ever left dangling from his own father's tools. Chang, too, was dead, hanging limp and unmoving from the thickest ropes available, his head sunk onto his breast so that his tusks pointed down at the floor, his arms and legs wrenched as far apart, and up and down, as was possible without dislocating them. Or maybe they had been, it was too sickening to Zhuang to look closer and find out. Only Hai still lived, strung up in a similar position to her husband—with their son between them, the bull realized, so that both of them could see him as they went through the long, drawn-out process of dying in agony.

 

When he could finally force himself to move, Zhuang set the lantern down on top of a barrel and hurriedly stumbled to Hai's side. There, with hands shaking as if palsied, he tried to help her free of her bindings. The hooks were buried deep in the elephant's leathery flesh, so that he had to brace her with his shoulders and lift her the several inches required to ease the tension and slip them free. But no matter how his knees buckled, or how he felt renewed upwellings of blood pouring down his back and shoulders, he did not falter—he would not allow the poor woman's torment to go on any longer.

 

Finally he managed to push the last barbed implement free and, as gently as he could, laid the elephant on the floor, still draped in his arms. "Gods…who did this to you? Why? How?" His mind reeled. It would take incredible strength to overpower even one elephant, let alone two. And the amount of sadism, wickedness, and undeniable depravity required to even contemplate such a vile torture, let alone to actually carry it out, was impossible to consider.

 

Before Hai could answer him, however, something stirred nearby, and Zhuang had to bite back another scream and recoil violently. The ex-foreman wasn't dead after all—for his head had slowly lifted, as if it took every ounce of will left in his body to move it, until he could finally look at the bull. Or rather, turn his face in the direction of the bovine's voice…because the elephant's cheeks were stained with the rusty red of dried blood, fanning out from dark, empty eye sockets.

 

Blind and helpless, Wei Chang opened his mouth. The voice that came out was more plaintive, frightened, and desperate than Zhuang could ever imagine coming from his throat. It was also laced with a fervency that startled the bull, as if the entire reason he had remained alive all this time was to tell someone, anyone, what he was about to say, as if it was the most important thing in the empire.

 

"It was…Vachir. Commander Vachir. He's alive. He's after…Tai Lung. You have to…warn him. The Furious Five. Everyone…at the Jade Palace. He's gone mad. He wants to kill…everyone. He won't give up. He can't…be stopped. They can't go anywhere near him! Don't let them go, Shen! By all that is holy…and right…don't…let them…go…!"

 

 

                                                                       

* * *

 

He looked exactly the same as the last time Tai Lung had seen him. Massive and menacing, his broad shoulders and extraordinary height causing him to dwarf even the snow leopard, and certainly making the feline feel more insecure and fearful than he would ever care to admit, the rhino didn't bother with armor on his torso, only a pair of studded pauldrons, and so the admittedly impressive dragon tattoo which completely covered his biceps and one side of his chest was clearly visible on his leathery skin. His tiny ears were pricked attentively, as if eager to hear the insults sure to be dished out so he would have enough justification to launch into a treacherous attack. His low-slung mail skirt was hitched up on one hip in a deceptively amateurish position, and it seemed to have been allowed to rust, judging by the brownish-red patches which covered it.

 

Finally, to complete the image, the rhino was leaning idly against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he smirked smugly at the seven masters confronting him. It could have been just his usual cocky overconfidence…but somehow, knowing what he did of the commander's most recent history, as well as gazing at the gleam in the rhino's eyes—one which somehow didn't reach their depths, leaving them as dark and flat as the shadows of Chorh-Gom itself—Tai Lung had the worrisome feeling that his adversary knew what all masters of battle, whether kung fu or otherwise, knew. That to succeed, one only had to _believe_ one could do so, treat the matter of one's victory as a foregone conclusion, and act accordingly so that whoever the opponent, they could not shake one's fortitude.

 

In which case, to judge by that look, Vachir had already won.

_No. No, I can't think like that. No matter what I've done, no matter how justified he might have been in his punishments, I can't let him get away with these atrocities anymore._

 

"So." Crane suddenly broke the oppressive, extremely tense silence, his voice matter-of-fact and even as he crossed his wings over his chest. "It _was_ you, all along. Tai Lung refused to tell us who we'd be facing, but really, it couldn't be anyone else."

 

Vachir sneered sadistically at the avian, his entire expression and demeanor denoting ridicule and contempt. "Figured it out, did ya? Took ya long enough…I was startin' to think I'd have to paint a mile-high message on the side of Wu Dan: 'Vachir was here'." He shook his head, as if in disbelief at their obtuseness. "I guess when they were handin' out membership in the Furious Five, brains weren't one of the decidin' factors, huh?"

 

Behind him, Tai Lung heard Viper gasp, then hiss more warningly and menacingly than he'd ever believed she could. To his credit, however, Crane didn't ruffle his feathers, take up a kung fu stance, or even raise his voice, maintaining an even, if undeniably cold, tone. "Oh, no. A child could have deduced you were the one behind this, Commander. You weren't exactly subtle, you know, and we had logic and all the pieces to put together to reach the right conclusion. I mean, who else would want revenge on Tai Lung, _and_ terrify poor Zeng into silence?"

 

He peered from beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes narrowed and gleaming in the shadows. "The only reason it took so long to figure it out was because it didn't make any sense. For you to be the killer, well…you would've had to abandon all sense of decency, morality, and honor. And that didn't sound like you." His voice lowered another notch. "Guess I was mistaken."

 

Mantis chuckled appreciatively, but it was drowned out by a furious snarl from the rhino. Stepping forward to lift a knobby, callused fist to shake in the bird's face, he snapped, "You shut the hell up! Don't think you can march in here, tell me what to do, preach to me like some damn Shaolin monk! You don't know _nuthin'_ about what I've been through, why I do what I do, or anything that happens outside those shiny palace walls of yours. So don't try and act like you do. I got plenty of reasons for what I've done, good ones. And in case ya forgot, _I'm_ the good guy here, and _he's_ the villain!"

 

He stabbed a thick-nailed thumb over his shoulder at Tai Lung. "He got away from me once, made a fool outta me—and if I heard the rumors right, he wiped the ground with you five, too. If it hadn't been for that fatso panda, your master would be dead right now, and probably everyone else in the Valley! So don't come cryin' to me about all the horrible shit I did…if it got Tai Lung here now, so I can take care of him once and for all, make sure he don't ever hurt anybody again, then it's all worth it."

 

The snow leopard stared at Vachir, so deeply torn between conflicting emotions that he couldn't move, literally rooted to the spot—on the one paw, the fact the rhino was attempting to take the moral high road, while hardly surprising, absolutely enraged him. He dared act as if the things he had done to lure Tai Lung weren't as horrific and evil as those the ex-convict had performed during his rampage!

 

Yet…he couldn't deny that on some level, Vachir was also right. As warden of Chorh-Gom, it was officially his job to track down and recapture Tai Lung should he escape…and the snow leopard had been such a violent, wicked, bloodthirsty maelstrom that it could be argued he did need to be stopped, by whatever means necessary…

 

Luckily for his peace of mind, while he couldn't bring himself to utter a defense, Tigress—his bold, beautiful, wonderfully tart and saucy Tigress—did so in his stead, in a manner he could never have predicted. Stepping forward protectively in front of Shifu, almost as if the rhino's point regarding the red panda's likely fate at Tai Lung's paws had Po not appeared had been an open threat, she growled softly.

 

"You know, I used to think like you. He was a complete monster, nothing would ever change that. He could never be trusted, he would turn on us and murder us without a second thought. He had to be put away again, or executed—no recourse, no plea bargaining, no more chances to weasel out of it. But I've learned something in the last few months, something I should have learned long ago. Something Master Oogway taught us." She stood up straight and tall, a proud and defiant figure as she recited the sage turtle's lesson from memory.

 

"Every man is a river. The river flows on, always changing, and there is no use resenting it for the flood it sent yesterday when today it is watering your crops. Tai Lung is not the man you knew. The man you spit on is no longer here. He looks just like him, but he is not the same. Those two people, the man who spit and the man on whom he spit, both are no more."

 

The rhino stared at her, dumbfounded and overwhelmed as he listened to her words. For a moment it was impossible to tell if he was enlightened by her wisdom, or simply stunned she would make such an intellectual argument at all instead of trying to punch his lights out. Then he threw back his head and laughed, raucous and mocking. "Girl, you have _got_ to be kiddin' me! You really think that half-assed, peace-lovin' lunacy's gonna make a damn bit of difference to me? Tai Lung ain't _ever_ gonna change, and even if he did, the things he's done can't ever be done away with!"

 

He posted both fists on his hips and thrust his chest out powerfully. "You can pound nails in a fence, and then pull 'em out, but that fence ain't ever gonna be the same. You can put a knife in a guy, and then take it out again. But it won't matter how many times you say 'I'm sorry', that wound's still gonna be there." He grinned triumphantly at Tigress. "I studied with the turtle too, ya know. You wanna quote egg-roll philosophy at me all damn day, I can do it right back at ya."

 

No one seemed to know what to say for several moments, though whether they were more taken aback at Vachir's rebuttal itself or the fact he was smart enough to give one was up for debate. Then Viper slithered forward, fixing her gaze on the warden's ugly, pompous face, her own rather pale with anxiety and horror. "But she's right, you know. No one's saying the things Tai Lung did can be forgotten, or denied. They can't be erased…but they can be set aside. Look at how much energy you're wasting, how much you're hurting yourself and others, all because you can't let go of the past!"

 

From the look on her face, the serpent would have spread her hands if she had them. "You've been hurt…we all can see that. But that doesn't justify you using your anger and hatred as weapons. Don't you see what you've done, what you've become? How could you do such things, and still think you're justified? How _could_ you?" Tears stood in her eyes now, and her voice broke.

 

Vachir blinked his tiny eyes, mouth hanging open slightly, and for the first time Tai Lung saw a slight wavering in his gaze, a crack forming in the wall of his self-confidence. "Don't try and play that one on me," he blustered, a little unconvincingly. "I'm just fine, I ain't bothered by a damn thing I've done. And this is the only way to stop him. I gotta be sure…yeah, I gotta be sure…"

 

"What?" Mantis interjected flatly. "You're _actually_ going to stand there and use the old 'end justifies the means' argument? I can't believe you." The insect glared beadily up at him, pincers crossed over his thorax, as he continued. "Even if you're right, and Tai's an accident waiting to happen who has to be put away before he can hurt anybody again...and I don't think you're right...that still can't make up for the things you did. You really think you can still call yourself a good guy, that you're _less_ dangerous than him? Two wrongs don't make a right, buddy." He nodded his head briskly and twitched his feelers, open disgust on his face.

 

"Sure they do!" the rhino retorted, as if the rest of Mantis's words had gone over his head, unheard. "And even if they don't…it still stops Tai Lung, and it makes me feel better."

 

"No, it doesn't!" Viper insisted. Tai Lung didn't know if she kept trying because of her caring heart, because of Vachir's long and honorable reputation as a great warrior, or simply to keep him from launching into a blistering attack against them. But her voice became more impassioned all the same. " _Why_ won't you see? You're so concerned with the past, you've forgotten about the present and the future. You won't ever be healed if you don't learn to let this go, and we won't ever be safe. You've become everything Tai was, and worse! You have to move on, you have to forgive him—not for his sake, but for yours."

 

"No!"

 

"Yes. The only victims here are the innocent people you've hurt…and you. Tai Lung isn't hurting anyone anymore."

 

Vachir moaned and began to clutch at his head, taking a step backwards.

 

"You were a good man once," Crane pressed his advantage, despite looking rather nauseous—presumably at what truth had finally been revealed to them all. "You did so many noble, honorable deeds. Are you really going to throw all that away, all the good you could do with the rest of your life, just for revenge? Are you going to make it so everyone remembers you, not as a war hero, but a sick, demented killer? Yes, what Tai Lung did was awful, and from what we've been told, he's suffered for it for twenty years—at your hands. But what _you_ did…"

 

Tigress snarled softly in the shadows, and her voice was all the more simmering with fury because it came out as a whisper instead of a savage roar. "There are _no_ words for it..."

 

"No…no… _no_ …" The rhino moaned, choking out a sob, his eyes squeezed shut—and for a brief, uncertain moment, Tai Lung managed to tear free of his own fear and shame to feel a tiny drop of pity for his tormentor. "Get outta my head…get outta my head…"

 

"Please, sir," Viper pleaded imploringly, seeming to see a spark of hope, a light at the end of the tunnel. "End this…don't make us have to fight you. You can put a stop to this, turn yourself in, accept punishment for your crimes. You can—"

 

" _NO!_ " Throwing his head back and letting out an echoing, almost inhuman howl, Vachir clenched his fists, then reached down to wrench a massive, spiked mace from his belt. Brandishing it first in Crane's face, then swiping it at Tigress and Viper to make them retreat across the guardroom, he finally hefted and aimed it at the snow leopard, a demented and hateful grin—almost an animalistic snarl—on his face.

 

"No, I gotta do what I gotta do! You don't understand, none of you do, none of you ever will! I ain't what you think I am… _he's_ the one you can't trust, _he's_ the one who's brought all this down on the Valley. You'll see, if you get rid of me there'll be nobody to stop him! You'll doom yourselves, you'll doom _everyone_! He's going to do it again, I know it! He's gonna kill you all, and you're gonna regret it when I ain't there to save ya. So _DON'T_ get in my way… _HE HAS TO DIE!_ "

 

His words punctuated by almost feral bellows and flecked with rabid foam, he swung the mace at Tai Lung with all the force of the powerful muscles he possessed beneath his layer of fat.

 

As the snow leopard finally snapped out of his terrified state and leaped backward, adroitly evading and ducking the weapon so that the rhino missed him completely and instead smashed the mace into the wall behind where he'd been standing, Shifu finally pushed Tigress aside and stalked forward.

 

"That's it!" he snapped, slamming his staff down into the floor with a sharp report, his fingers gripping it until the knuckles turned white. "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I have _had_ it up to here with you. What in the _hell_ are you thinking? I know what you did to my son…and I know what you've been doing from here to halfway across the empire." Having begun with a venomous hiss worthy of the serpent, he now snapped off each word as his voice rose to a ringing shout.

 

"This is _no_ way to act if you expect anyone to listen to you. You've lost any shred of honor, nobility, or justification you ever possessed. How dare you, how _dare_ you compare yourself to Tai Lung, and favorably at that?!" Now his whole body was trembling, the rage he'd first shown at hearing just what Vachir was guilty of at last given full expression. Tai Lung was stunned, and despite his guilt, heartened. "You are a disgrace to the Emperor and the Valley, and I am ashamed I ever gave you one word of praise, or the benefit of the doubt. As of now, I am hereby relieving you of duty!"

 

Aiming the staff at the gasping, shuddering rhino's horned face, the red panda glared at the clearly unstable warden. "Stand down _at once_ , Commander!"

 

Though he had hoped to see his enemy whirl around comically on one foot, Vachir revealed he had a much better sense of balance, coordination, and simple combat skills than he had ever given the man credit for. Stomping his foot down solidly on the floor, he twisted at the waist and leaned back in a clearly poised and ready stance, and Tai Lung gasped.

 

It wasn't just that the rhino now stood at a forty-five degree angle to him—he recognized the position of his feet and free hand as the opening position for Bridge Smashing—one of the basic forms of… His eyes flicked to the tattoo on Vachir's arm and chest again. _It's not just an affectation…he knows Southern Dragon style!_

 

Even as this unpleasant realization shivered through the snow leopard, Vachir turned to Shifu again and smiled…slow, cold, and malicious. In a voice so low and sinister it was almost subsonic, which seemed to be underlain by another, equally dark and rumbling voice, he growled, "I ain't takin' orders from _you_ no more."

 

In that chilling moment, as the red panda was staring at Vachir in disbelief, the rhino stepped forward into the wan pool of light spilling down into the prison from the gaping entrance high above—and as he nodded as if in a signal and gestured behind them all, Tai Lung suddenly realized several things in quick succession. The stains on his mail skirt were not rust, but blood…layer after layer of thick, congealed, clotted blood which also covered his entire belly, chest, and forearms, as if he had applied it liberally as a new and twisted form of war paint.

 

As if that weren't bad enough, there was something…wrong about his silhouette, there seemed to be a strange, shimmering darkness surrounding his entire body—an aura of undeniable and disturbing wickedness that could only be a sign of thoroughly corrupted _chi._ And lastly, as the sound of something scraping on the stone came from behind them, from the direction of each of the three corridors leading into the room, they were not alone here after all…

 

Very slowly, dreading what he would see with every fiber of his being, Tai Lung looked behind him. And as he did so, he felt something die inside him—his courage, his heart, his very soul—as a mortal and unreasoning fear turned into sheer, gibbering terror. For now he knew why the people of Qinghe had fled into the desert and taken the contents of their cemetery with them.

 

Now, the words of Oogway resonated with him with an entirely new and horrifying meaning: _All I can see is death, in his past, present, and future. I think you must face the possibility that neither the dead, nor the past, will stay buried_.

 

From each of the doorways, they came…some walking almost normally, some lurching and staggering, still others limping so badly they almost fell over, as if they were attempting to walk on legs that no longer had feet attached. One by one, they emerged into the light, in an utter silence that was all the more disturbing. Some of them had huge rents in their armor and chain mail, revealing puckered, rotten flesh, dangling innards, even exposed ribcages.

 

Some were in a mostly well-preserved condition thanks to the bone-deep cold of Chorh-Gom, with only a waxen consistency and gray, ashy hue to their rough skin to suggest they were more than what they seemed. That, and the empty, blank, glassy stares of their glazed eyes. Still others were so far gone there was nothing left of them but fleshless skeletons still clad in their warrior's garb, deathless skulls leering in gap-jawed horror. And some were in the most disgusting state of putrefaction in between, with the flesh sloughing off with every step they took.

 

Some still clutched weapons in their rigid hands, others had only their stiffened limbs to use to attack. All of them gave off the most horrid stench imaginable, to the point Tai Lung almost doubled over to spew his last meal on the floor (and he didn't think he was the only one). And all of them were surrounded by the same rippling black aura as Vachir, except it snaked out like curling tendrils of mist to wrap around their arms and legs, drifting like fog in and out of their bloodless wounds and around their exposed spinal columns…like the strings of a puppet master controlling their every move. It also lent a faint, unholy gleam to their eyes…or their empty sockets…as if some tiny glimmer of intelligence and secrets from beyond the grave shone therein.

 

Those who had tormented him…those he had killed…were still here, had never left what had become their own prison. And now the Anvil of Heaven had risen to walk again. They had come to claim him, finish what they had started, make him one of their own…

 

For one endless moment, this impossible and repugnant tableau remained unchanged. Then, without warning, Viper screamed—high, piercing, and clearly scared out of her wits. The sound seemed to shock everyone out of their stasis. And as Monkey, Mantis, and Crane leaped into action, daring to come body-to-body with the mindless rhinos and keep them away from their companions, Tai Lung whirled back to face Vachir, springing into the air with both arms spread wide and every claw unsheathed.

 

Even so, Tigress was even faster, with Shifu right behind her. Before he could even blink, the striped feline was flying across the room, one foot thrust out in full extension—and it struck its target straight and true. The warden gasped, choking and wheezing, as the wind was knocked out of him, even as the force of her powerful kick sent him hurtling backwards, smashing right through the doors which opened onto the drawbridge extending out to the pinnacle.

 

Even before the splinters, planks, and metal fastenings had a chance to settle on the wood, Tigress and Shifu were racing out through the gaping hole…Tai Lung right on their heels…and the fight was on.

 

By the time the three of them had made it out onto the bridge, Vachir had already made it back to his feet and was running out toward the pinnacle. But he wasn't simply trying to cravenly escape, merely gain more room to maneuver it seemed—for as soon as he'd reached the wider expanse of rock, he whirled about and once again planted both feet with the steadiness and solidity that only a master Dragon practitioner could adopt, his mace swung back and ready to strike again while his free hand clenched into a rigid fist.

 

Tigress, who had been first onto the bridge, rather looked as if she'd like to get down on all fours to move faster, but the span was too narrow and so she raced as fast as two legs could carry her. Just as she had reached the pinnacle, the rhino brought his mace forward and down to smash into her skull. With such grace and fluidity it was as if she were composed of water, the leader of the Five twisted and dodged aside—but Vachir had expected this, so that her evasion brought her right in line with his fist as he rotated at the waist.

 

Letting out a pained cry as the rock-hard bones of his knuckles connected with her temple, Tigress was thrown across the pinnacle and might well have tumbled over the side, if she hadn't caught hold of the spear which had, three months ago, broken Tai Lung free of his last manacle. Twirling around the wrist-thick haft with stunning gymnastic skill, she brought both of her feet together to kick Vachir with enough force to crack most men's jaws. His head did rock back, but what made Tai Lung crow inwardly was that he also flew back off the edge of the pinnacle.

 

At the last possible second however, with instincts that proved he was not the slow, lumbering beast he appeared—and if his master, a tortoise, had been the inventor of kung fu, how could Tai Lung really expect otherwise?—Vachir caught hold of another spear buried in the side of the pinnacle with one hand, halting his descent. In the blink of an eye, he had taken charge of the momentum gravity had lent him, whirling three hundred and sixty degrees around the weapon—and at the end of his arc, letting go so he was hurled upwards, across the breadth of the cavern!

 

The rhino's sardonic laughter echoed from above even as he streaked across the blackness, but Tigress was already in hot pursuit (springing off the spear in the exact same manner in which Tai Lung had escaped the pit), Shifu vaulted off the pinnacle using his staff to launch himself into space, and the snow leopard simply had enough speed built up from his run along the bridge that he only needed to gather his haunches and spring before he too was flying above the abyss.

 

Vachir, he saw, had twisted in mid-air so as to land atop one of the spears still extending from the cavern wall and was even now leaping to the next ten feet above his head. _Bloody wanker's stealing pages out of my book_ , the snow leopard thought—half-admiringly, half-furiously. But Tigress was agilely and deftly performing the same trick and much faster, of course, so that she was soon right behind him, her claws only inches away from his leathery hide. And Shifu had overshot both of them deliberately and was now standing on a ledge about twenty feet over their heads, just below where the first bridge had once been. He couldn't see his father's face, but could guess its expression and had to fight back a fierce, fiendish grin.

 

Choosing to take a different tack, the spotted feline cast about even as he sailed ever upwards—and then he spied it, a length of chain dangling down from the shadows, what was left of the windlass that had once raised and lowered the elevator. Catching hold of it in one outstretched paw, he held his breath and prayed fervently that the other end was still securely attached… It was! Smirking smugly to himself, Tai Lung swung out in a wide arc across the cavern, all the way to the far side—only to push off hard from the rocky surface and send himself whizzing back toward his quarry.

 

Almost as if he had planned it (and if anyone asked him later, he had), the ex-convict reached the apogee of his flight at almost the same moment as Tigress had caught up to Vachir and Shifu was leaping back into action. The striped feline had come to a halt atop one quivering spear, with the rhino on the one above her, and although he repeatedly attempted to deal her a crushing blow with his mace—to the point that her head and shoulders were covered with rock dust that had showered down upon her from all the times his misses had slammed into the wall instead—Tigress dodged again and again even as she struck out with a relentless series of Tiger Fists. His face set in a glowering mask, the rhino leaped backwards to avoid her punches, advancing up the line of spears, not even paying attention to his surroundings it seemed.

 

With a roar of triumph, Tai Lung swung in from the side on his chain, aiming a punch right at the side of the rhino's head—one with enough force to cave his skull in.

 

Everything happened so quickly, in rapid succession, that it took his mind several moments to process and catch up, even as his body reacted with thankfully instantaneous instinct. Somehow, Vachir managed to get his free arm up in time to parry Tai Lung's fist so that it slammed into the rock wall instead—only the snow leopard's split-second pulling of his punch kept him from breaking his knuckles, and he still came incredibly close to spraining his wrist as well as receiving what would likely be some rather severe bruises.

 

In the same movement, the rhino leaped backwards to avoid his incoming body and Tigress's next punch—and then he had grabbed hold of the chain several feet above Tai Lung's other paw. Vachir's weight jerked the links out of his grip…and suddenly the snow leopard found himself balancing precariously on the spear where the warden had been just moments before, while the rhino was the one now swinging out over the chasm, laughing wickedly.

 

Tigress was there almost immediately to support Tai Lung's back before he could topple onto her, for which he was quite grateful. But as he looked upward again, he saw that Vachir hadn't gotten completely away with his little bait-and-switch maneuver. For as he swung back down again on the pair of felines with his mace hauled back for the kill, suddenly Shifu dropped down from above and swung his staff with a loud crack that echoed throughout the prison. The rhino cursed even as his hand went numb, dropping the weapon to fall soundlessly into the darkness below.

 

Yet even this setback didn't discourage him for long. Grasping the chain with both hands now, Vachir was soon climbing along it with surprisingly rapid speed, heading toward one of the bridges that still extended across the yawning gulf some fifty feet above their heads. Shifu scampered after him with all the nimbleness and agility of a squirrel, leaving Tai Lung and Tigress to pursue in their own fashions—the snow leopard also climbing the chain while the leader of the Five chose to continue flinging herself from one spear to the next up the cliff face.

 

By the time the snow leopard had reached the bridge and leapt onto the ancient iron span, Shifu had already engaged Vachir in a wild, violent whirlwind of leaps, spins, kicks, and strikes of his staff, until he barely seemed to touch the metal surface but for brief brushes of one foot now and then to launch him upwards again. Though forced to fall back one slow step at a time, the rhino was using the traditional zig-zag motions of dragon stepping—which not only protected his groin from the panda's all-too-frequent strikes, but also kept his upper body torqued away so that he could attack from angles Shifu was hard-pressed to counter. He even deliberately twisted at times to bring his arms up to catch the length of the old master's staff across them—his forearms, hugely thick with powerfully-developed muscles, easily took the blows without even prompting a grunt of pain, for they were like iron.

 

Just as Tai Lung landed solidly on the bridge with a resounding _clang_ , he heard heavy breathing behind him and spied Tigress leaping off the last spear to land in the same doorway he had when facing the first contingent of rhinos. He nodded firmly to her, both acknowledging her arrival and welcoming her back to the fight as a fellow warrior. For a moment, as their eyes met and their chests heaved with the exertion, he saw something he had yet to see in her gaze—an excited, surging delight, a gleam of pleasure at getting to use their kung fu skills together rather than at odds with one another.

_This_ was what he wanted, even before any conclusion could be reached as to the future of their relationship—it felt right, the two of them on the same field of battle, their strength and talents and knowledge working as one to bring down a hated foe. Even if nothing else ever came of it, as long as he got to experience this again, he would be happy.

 

A sudden crack, as of flesh meeting bone, echoed through the air, snapping Tai Lung out of his reverie. Whipping his head about, he saw Vachir's massive fist connecting with Shifu's head, sending the red panda flying backwards at least ten feet as if he were only a bag of rice—over the side of the bridge. Luckily he caught hold of the same windlass chain still hanging past the span, swinging in an enormous arc around the cavern until he was able to leap off and land softly on the platform fronting the bridge, right behind Tigress…but he still looked momentarily dazed and woozy.

 

Just as importantly, Vachir was now free to come charging down the bridge at them, and so he did—literally in fact, bent over with both fists clenched at his side as if he intended to ram them with his horn.

 

Again, Tai Lung turned and looked at Tigress…but this time it was decisively, a plan fixed firmly in mind that he knew would succeed with flying colors. It had worked once before when it was only him—with both of them acting in concert… "Just like the Thread of Hope," he whispered, and mimed the breaking of a board between his paws.

 

For a moment she looked blank, but then a slow, sadistically satisfied smile curled her lips, and she nodded, smacking one fist into her palm. "You're on."

 

In the same motion, both felines turned and raced on all fours down the bridge as if they were on a collision course with the warden. Closer, closer they drew, and the only thing Tai Lung could hear was the air rushing past his ears, his heart thudding in his chest, and the rising bellow of Vachir as he barreled straight toward them. Everything else vanished, narrowing down to this one point of focus, to the fact Tigress was matching him stride for stride, building up momentum at the same rate.

 

Faster…faster…he bunched the powerful muscles of his calves to propel himself forward, timing himself carefully. And at the last possible moment, he grasped the metal railing of the bridge with his left paw, and Tigress's own left with his right, squeezing it tightly. She mirrored him; leaping up off the span, they drove all the power they had gathered into their feet as they swung upwards in perfect sync; and simultaneously they struck Vachir right in the chest.

 

Letting out a coughing roar, the rhino flew backwards as if shot from a catapult, just as Tigress had three months ago. There were no boards for him to smash through, so he hurtled at a shocking speed the entire length of the bridge, and even though he tried to grasp the railings to halt or at least slow himself, he didn't have claws as the striped feline did. So even as he clamped his hands around the rails as tightly as he could—to the point smoke actually started rising from the friction burn—he was still flying at top speed when he slammed hard into the wall of the keep at the span's far end.

 

Sliding to a stop themselves, Tai Lung and Tigress rose to their full heights and grinned at each other, panting and triumphant. Even though he really knew he shouldn't, the snow leopard couldn't help but feel extraordinarily pleased with himself. _I can do this. **We** can do this! Damnit, he can be defeated…_

 

He didn't have long to gloat, however, nor could he direct his positively beaming face at the woman he loved for long before something intervened to completely ruin his good mood. A sound came from the end of the bridge, a crunching and cracking of stone, and when he hurriedly looked that way, the ex-convict first stared in disbelief…and then let out a low, despairing groan.

 

For even though he'd been embedded at least a foot deep in the wall of the tower, to the point that huge cracks radiated out from the point of impact and a rhino-shaped hole had been made in the stonework, Vachir was even now wrenching himself free to stand on the platform. And the way he was merely brushing away pulverized stone dust from his arms and shoulders as if it were just a minor inconvenience revealed that, against all odds, he hadn't broken any bones, bruised himself, or even suffered any harm at all.

 

The worst, though, was when he looked up and saw Tai Lung's crestfallen look. Vachir regarded him smugly, then called out across the chasm. "Sorry to disappoint ya. Was that supposed to tickle?"

 

Beside him, Tigress inhaled sharply, then shook her head. "Gods…what will it take? Will _nothing_ stop him?"

 

As if to emphasize how hopeless and overwhelming their situation had become, the rhino lifted both hands and made an odd series of gestures. Suddenly, the door behind him burst open, slamming into the wall, and more of his undead men began spilling out onto the platform, as eerily silent and grotesquely rotten as their counterparts below had been; Tai Lung lost count at seven, perhaps distracted by the fact that he recognized at least one of the staggering, animated corpses as a soldier whose mouth he'd jammed open with a mace before sending him rocketing skyward with a violent kick to the sternum. Now the rhino's jaw seemed permanently wrenched open, dangling and canted to one side, while his chest was only a mass of crushed bone and strips of cartilage with a crater in the shape of the snow leopard's foot.

 

Sickened all over again, he was about to leap down the span and wade manfully into the putrid bodies that should have been properly buried in the earth when a tiny hand on his leg stopped him. Glancing down, he spied Shifu, then followed the red panda's finger as he pointed toward a small stone box carved out of the wall alongside the door at their end of the bridge, then rushed over to pull out a heavy mallet.

 

"The bridge was constructed to be dropped into the abyss in case of invasion!" his father hurriedly explained. "I will hammer out the pins holding it, you two keep them busy! If we're lucky, Vachir won't realize what I'm doing until it's too late, and the bridge takes him down with it!"

 

Tai Lung exchanged a quick and worried look with Tigress—there were so many things that could go wrong with this plan, it wasn't funny—but at the moment there seemed little other choice unless they continued scaling the sides of the keep as he had during his escape. And that would not eliminate this implacable enemy and his army that could no longer be killed. This at least had a chance of doing so. Nodding at last, they turned and sprinted the rest of the way down the iron catwalk.

 

Just before they would have both run headlong into Vachir, Tigress gathered herself like a coiled spring and flung herself into the air, executing a perfect backflip and somersault at least ten feet above the rhino's head to land on the platform behind him amongst the deathless soldiers. Instantly she launched into motion, whirling and kicking and punching in sheer, unbridled savagery that he had never seen her unleash before and could only imagine prior to this moment.

 

And as first one zombie, then the next was flung off the parapet to drop into the blackness below, Tai Lung felt the bridge beneath him shudder with the pounding free of the first iron pin—and to distract from this as well as take another opportunity to make his torturer pay for his crimes, the snow leopard once again leaped at Vachir.

 

He did not hold himself back; he could not afford to, and even if the rhino had not committed such horrible torture upon his body, mind, and soul, the things he had done since Yunxian and the darkness which had clearly claimed him justified almost anything Tai Lung could think of attempting. And with as resilient as Vachir seemed to be, it begged the question whether even the most dishonorable of actions would hurt him anyway.

 

With a venomous roar, the snow leopard delivered one roundhouse after another without pausing for breath or giving the rhino a chance to recover. A dropkick to the chest, an uppercut that rocked Vachir's head back, followed by alternating punches that would have broken the jaw or knocked out the teeth of less sturdy men. As the rhino staggered backwards, Tai Lung took advantage of his wide-open stance to kick him hard in the groin—and even behind the mail skirt that had most likely bruised the feline's heel, enough of the blow made it through to nearly double the warden over with tearing eyes.

 

This in turn let him deliver several more cathartically violent punches across that ugly snout…and then, unsheathing his claws, he began slashing and tearing as vigorously as he could at Vachir's exposed flesh. Naturally it was as thick and impenetrable as granite for the most part, but he did manage to draw enough blood to satisfy the growing fury and hatred within him. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter how much he had feared the rhino, or how deserved his torture may have been…he only wanted to hurt the man who had done this to him, make him pay for that crime and all the despicable, depraved murders he had committed since then.

 

Yet as if to prove how deranged and inhuman he had become, even as he stumbled back with a split, bloody lip and glazed eyes, Vachir suddenly started to laugh—low, mocking, and oddly content. "Heh…now there's the big bad kitty I know so well, and love to hate. Told ya you hadn't changed. You're still a monster, Tai Tai. Just like me. Only difference is, you made me what I am. But nobody made you but yourself. You gonna break all my bones, skin me alive, gut me the way I did all those people? Then you ain't any better'n me…and I'll die knowing I was right. And you'll know it too."

 

Tai Lung's eyes widened in horror, as the undeniable truth of these words sank in. But somehow, he found he couldn't stop, and even as he struggled wildly to either bottle his anger up again or channel it into his _chi_ , he could only watch himself in mingled fear and unholy pleasure as he continued to batter, smash, and slash at his oppressor. He heard his own voice, so twisted by rage and desire for revenge that he barely recognized it…sounding as it had of old, during his rampage or when he fought Po and Shifu.

 

" _NO!_ I am _nothing_ like you! I may have killed a lot of people, but I had a damn good reason for most of them. You…you're just killing because you enjoyed it, to lure me out, to make a point! You think you're better, that you can throw your weight around and everyone will just fall down to obey you! You're nothing but a _weak_ —" _Smash_ , cracking the jaw at last. "— _pathetic_ —" _Slash_ , clawing right over one eye until it was blinded with streams of blood. "— _bully!_ " _Crunch_ , as his heel drove in like a battering ram, snapping two of the rhino's ribs. "That's all you'll ever be…and I'm going to put a stop to you!"

 

There was a long pause, as Vachir leaned heavily against the railing, gasping and groaning in anguish, the only sounds other than the continued smashing of Tigress's fists and feet into the soulless sentries on the platform and, more distant, the echoes of Shifu's hammer on the pins. Then the rhino looked up…and in spite of his fiery anger and how his sweaty chest heaved with his adrenaline rush, Tai Lung felt himself go cold and petrified.

 

For before his very eyes, every injury he had dealt to his opponent was somehow, miraculously, _healing_. His crooked jaw was resetting…the deep cuts over his face were sealing closed, leaving only clotting blood streaking over his eye…the staved-in ribs were popping back out, the bone knitting together…in seconds, all of the damage he had inflicted was undone. He didn't know whether to moan in despair or laugh insanely at the bitter irony—that now, when he could finally unleash all the pent-up aggression, hate, and darkness upon his enemy, it didn't do him a damn bit of good.

 

Vachir smiled at him, slow and sardonic, then pushed off the railing to stand blocking his way, one hand raised to form a Dragon Fist as he again adopted the angled stance that securely grounded him in place. "Awww, ya made it sound all so noble too, tough guy. I'm really proud of ya. Maybe, if ya keep sayin' it long enough, ya might actually manage to convince somebody besides yourself. But in the meantime…" He narrowed his eyes, bared his blunt teeth in an even more sadistic grin, and added, "…just how do ya think you're gonna do _anything_ to me?"

 

Staring at his adversary, both paws raised in Tiger Fists even as he realized how impotent he truly was, the snow leopard felt the iron span beneath him shudder and lurch—and as the count he'd been keeping somewhere in the back of his mind of the ringing pops each time one of the pins flew out of its seatings reached six, he smiled for the first time since returning to Chorh-Gom.

 

"Like this," he purred, suggestive and sly—and then as he felt the bridge part from the platform, he sprang forward…braced himself against Vachir's chest to give himself added height and force…then pushed off in the same sort of backflip he'd performed to land on the severed Thread of Hope rather than fall into the gorge. Over the rhino's head, past the tip of his horn, up into the dark, windy air he threw himself—and as he landed on the bridge again, only to leap one final time toward the cliff face, Vachir finally seemed to realize the danger. Too late.

 

As if in slow motion, with a loud, shrieking, protesting groan of bending, snapping, twisting metal, the span fell down into the chasm, carrying with it the clinging form of the rhino. The upper end, the end closest to Tigress, was still attached to the bedrock by its ruined supports, but the rest dropped with ever-increasing speed until it slammed into the cliff with a thunderous clang of iron that echoed all throughout Chorh-Gom, loud enough to bring down the stalactites if the explosives hadn't done that already.

 

But other than the deafening noise, this meant nothing to Tai Lung—for as the length of the bridge swung from horizontal to vertical, his last leap had taken him up within reach of the still riveted railing. And even as he hung on for dear life by one paw, flailing about wildly with the other, a striped paw suddenly grasped it, and he looked up with a fierce grin.

 

Tigress returned the expression, her ruby eyes burning brightly in the shadows, as she stood with a serene, placid poise on the ledge—as if catching falling snow leopards was something she did every day. The zombies, conspicuously enough, were nowhere to be seen, she had sent them all toppling into the abyss, just in time to catch him before he too fell. And now, with the same strength he had admired for so long, she hoisted him up onto the parapet beside her.

 

Together both of them looked down into the darkness, vindication and pride surging through both their frames as they peered about to see what had become of their quarry. Unfortunately, it didn't take them long, with their keen feline night vision, to detect movement about fifty feet below them. Just beyond where the bridge creaked back and forth in the darkness of the cliff, a large and bulky silhouette was perched on another narrow ledge—and while he was clearly limping, he was also very much alive…and the speed with which he nevertheless began scaling the heights was worrisome and unbelievable.

 

"Damn!" Tigress growled softly. "I was _sure_ we had him that time. He just…keeps coming. I don't know what more we can do to stop him!"

 

Shaking his heavy head, Tai Lung watched Vachir's ascent helplessly, then turned to gaze searchingly into the striped feline's eyes. "I don't either…but I do know that whatever is done, I'm the one who has to do it."

 

Jerking her head to the side to glare at him, she started to snap, "What in the—if this is about revenge, or you always having to be the one to—"

 

"No, that isn't it at all," he cut her off. "It's because of those walking dead men. In case you'd forgotten, we left the others several levels below us, still fighting them. If Vachir was able to call them up here to aid him, that may just mean…"

 

"He's right," Shifu gasped, winded, as he alighted on the ledge beside them, having vaulted across the void with the aid of his staff. "And even if those were…a different group, the fact is we cannot leave the rest of the Five to fight alone. I have the feeling these…revenants, for lack of a better term, will not go down easy, or even stay down at all. Not until their maker is dealt with. In which case, our friends will need all the help they can get." The red panda sighed heavily, then peered up at Tai Lung. "Are you certain you can handle him alone?"

 

The snow leopard clenched his fists, then nodded. "I'm going to have to, aren't I? Or to put it another way…if _I_ can't handle him, then I don't see how anybody else can. No offense."

 

Shifu waved it aside, then reached up to rest one tiny hand on Tai Lung's forearm. He squeezed it firmly. "In that case…good luck, son."

 

He swallowed against the emotions threatening to choke his throat, then turned to look at Tigress. Even if their adopted father and master wasn't standing in front of them, this was not the time nor place for extended good-byes and intense displays of affection, but that didn't make the moment any less awkward. Finally, after a silence that had seemed like an eternity, she nodded as well and turned away brusquely. "Try not to fall again," the striped feline quipped instead, dryly. "I might not be there next time to catch you."

_You bitch_ , Tai Lung thought admiringly, grinning to himself. But before he could think of a clever response to that little sally, Tigress had vanished through the doorway of the tower. Shifu paused on the threshold with a look that was at once puzzled, rueful, and vaguely amused, and then he too was gone.

 

Sighing, the snow leopard turned and peered over the edge once more. Vachir was already over halfway up the distance he had fallen. A new determination flooding through him, Tai Lung sprang upward, digging his claws deep into the cliff face, and began the ascent toward the entrance.

                                                                       

* * *

 

When the three most skilled, knowledgeable, and powerful members of their company—or as he liked to think of them, the 'biggest badasses in China'—went leaping through the smashed doorway in pursuit of Vachir, Mantis didn't even spare a glance for them. He knew they could handle themselves, for even aside from their kung fu prowess and the extraordinary teamwork they could devise, they were facing a far less difficult foe. The rhino might be much more agile, clever, and dangerous than he appeared, and extremely difficult to inflict major damage upon thanks to his high constitution and tough hide, but at least, eventually, he could be killed.

 

That couldn't be said for the opponents the insect, Crane, Monkey, and Viper were facing…since, after all, they were already dead and should have stayed that way.

 

It wasn't that the corpses were particularly fast or adroit in their attacks, nor were they invulnerable. In fact, unsurprisingly, their stiff joints and atrophied, shriveled muscles rendered them very slow and clumsy, so that it was relatively easy to run circles around them. They had no minds anymore, and seemed to have no will save that which was directed for them from afar, so they could not think, plan, exhibit cunning, or react quickly to changing circumstances.

 

While some of them still retained the weapons they'd wielded in life, or managed to scrounge some from the prison ruins, most only came at the Furious Five (or Four) with only their bare hands, and the ones that did have weapons were hardly proficient with them anymore, only hacking and slashing with the barest rudiments of skill. If it weren't for the utter morbidness of the situation, it would seem on the surface to be a rather simple combat.

 

Except, of course, in all the ways it wasn't. Yes, the undead soldiers were very easily knocked off their feet, made to trip and stumble, sent flying through the air and smashing into walls by every punch, kick, and strike directed at them…but they kept getting back up again, implacable and unrelenting where living foes would have been dead, unconscious, or at least fatigued. They could have their weapons knocked away, but more could always be found—or the rhinos simply lunged at them with fists that seemed imbued with preternatural strength, bony grips that could literally squeeze the life out of anything that ended up in their clutches.

 

More than once, when one of the Five dodged an incoming fist, it struck the wall behind them...and actually gouged out deep pits from the stone, pulling free of the blocks with a shower of dust, revealing the fist was completely untouched. And they could even have limbs snapped in two or broken free, heads crushed in, ribcages smashed to pieces—but it made no difference, for they felt no pain, fought on relentlessly, and could reattach portions of their anatomy at will it seemed. Even where they did not, they were unhampered by arms dangling by pieces of flesh, exposed bone, or dislocated joints.

 

Once, Monkey succeeded in completely smashing his foot all the way through a rotten chest—only to have the repugnant creature pound him unblinkingly backwards, gobbets of muscle and sinew hanging out of the new, gaping hole, while the gleaming white curves of ribs formed a hollow cage for the mass of putrid tissue that had once been a heart. At another point, Crane deflected a blow with such force the arm in question was wrenched completely out of its socket—only to have the zombie scoop up the fallen limb and use it as an impromptu club.

 

And more than one foe had had its head knocked askew, or been decapitated entirely, by the strike of Viper's stiffened tail…yet they continued blindly staggering on, headless or with skulls bouncing and rolling about at the ends of twisted ligaments and tendons, still somehow knowing where their targets were.

 

Still, despite this horrific and macabre mockery of combat, the kung fu warriors were trained to weather anything, to remain fixed on their goal and never give up no matter how bleak their chances. And the undead couldn't do much to batter them senseless when they kept spontaneously and inexplicably losing their arms whenever they swiped at their prey…since Mantis was rapidly, and almost invisibly, ripping them out as he sprang about.

 

When the army of zombies was finally on the verge of surrounding and trapping them, Mantis looked to his companions and nodded firmly, motioning with his pincers in a familiar, spread-legged gesture. Instantly the four of them split into pairs—Viper slithered between a rhino's legs while Crane flew over another's horned head, the two of them disappearing down one of the many labyrinthine passages of Chorh-Gom, while the insect accompanied Monkey in the opposite direction. The undead Anvil of Heaven parted as well, limping and lurching through the corridors after their fleeing prey, which was just what Mantis had been hoping for. At least now they had half the enemies to deal with, and if they could reach a more wide open area in the prison, where they had more room to fight…

 

Down one burrowing passage after another they raced—choosing directions randomly whenever it divided until Mantis was not at all sure where they were or how they could ever escape the tomb-like citadel. They passed down dark corridors thick with must and cobwebs, though whether the rhinos had maintained Chorh-Gom that poorly, it had settled into place just in the nearly four months since Tai Lung's escape, or this portion of the fortress had fallen into disuse and been abandoned years before that wasn't clear. They ran through chambers filled with crumbling pieces of furniture, along balconies and parapets that dropped away into pits of blackness.

 

Despite the fact he knew they were pursued, silence still filled the ancient keep, deep and pervasive, so that even the sound of the wind moaning through the chasm faded, and there was only the sound of Monkey's feet on the stone flooring. Twice they lost their way entirely, coming to dead-ends, and precious time was lost as they attempted to find a route out. Never were there any lit torches, the sconces on the walls either empty or only bearing rotten wood that had burned down to stubs of ash and cinders, so that always they fled in utter blackness.

 

Finally they reached a wide, vaulted room that, to judge by the weapons and coats of mail still hanging on the walls, had been one of Chorh-Gom's many armories. Slamming the door behind them, the insect leaned against it, trying to control his heavy panting as he pressed his earhole to the panel and listened fearfully for the zombies' pursuit. In the hallway beyond, the sound of shuffling, stumbling feet and metal weapons dragging against the floor and walls echoed for some time...until eventually it passed, leaving them blessedly alone in the silent darkness. Wiping his brow in terrified relief, Mantis turned away and scuttled across the room to investigate where they'd found themselves—and just how safe from discovery they really were.

 

Somehow in their circuitous course they had come back around almost to their starting point, for Mantis could see out a narrow arrow slit that the pinnacle where Tai Lung had been held was visible as a pale gray disk in the light spilling down, reflected from the snow fields high above. Leaping up into the embrasure, he peered out guardedly, eyes darting constantly to try and spot any of the gruesome horrors they'd been fleeing, as well as any sign of Vachir, the snow leopard—anyone else at all.

 

"Well, whaddaya know," he said at last, when he had ascertained that, at least for the moment, they were alone in this part of the prison. "Looks like we lost them, for now. But damn…I've told a lotta ghost stories in my time. Never thought I'd be living one. What are we gonna do, Monkey? I…"

 

He trailed off, feeling extremely helpless; his friends were out there, facing these sickening, stomach-churning things, as well as the torture-loving, insane bastard who had created and was controlling them, somehow. And here he was, cowering and hiding because he couldn't think of a surefire solution to get rid of them all! "I don't know how we're going to stop them, but we gotta figure something out, and fast…"

 

From behind him he heard the rather incongruous sound of wood scraping across the floor, then a creaking as of weight settling onto it. Glancing back, Mantis was both annoyed and mystified to see Monkey had indeed sat down in a chair at what had once been one of the ward room tables—and even worse, he was leaning back in it, long-fingered hands clasped behind his head, feet up on the table and crossed at the ankles, while the chair itself was tilted up on its back legs. The image he presented was one of casual disinterest, amusement, even boredom.

 

"Dunno why you'd think a thing like that," he observed with a surprising amount of scorn. "Me? I think it a whole lot better, just stay right in here where it's safe and they can't get at us. The door look pretty solid, they didn't see us come in, and they too stupid to think to look in here."

 

Mantis stared at the simian, so shocked that it actually outweighed his anger—he didn't know whether it was more appropriate to shout a few choice epithets at his friend, or simply smack a pincer into his forehead. He settled for leaping from the arrow slit onto the table, where he peered up at the langur reproachfully. "Tell me I didn't just hear that. Tell me I got wax in my ears, or that you were just joking. How can you seriously sit there and talk about hiding, when our friends are risking their lives and there's a wacko rhino who needs putting down once and for all? How can you sit there at all?"

 

He shook his head and stabbed at Monkey as if he held a pair of chopsticks. "The five of us have been in worse scrapes than this, and we made it out just fine." He dropped his voice briefly to a mutter. "Can't think of any right now, but…that's not the point! All those other times, you were as brave and raring to go as the rest of us. Now…well, I just can't believe this. I never thought _you_ , of all people, would give up. I never pegged you for a coward, Monkey."

 

Instantly the chair legs slammed down into the floor with a bang, so hard that the stone itself cracked and sent up a cloud of dust, while the report itself echoed throughout the citadel. The golden-furred kung fu warrior was on his feet, surging forward and planting his hands on the table so he could shove his face right into Mantis's, until only an inch or two lay between them. Up close and personal like that, the insect could definitely smell a less than flattering odor coming from Monkey's fur, although he was rather distracted by the enormous moons of the primate's bulging, slightly bloodshot eyes.

 

"Don't you _ever_ call me a coward!" he hissed, so menacingly that Mantis actually scuttled back several feet. "Just 'cause I'm not stupid enough to risk my life for nothin', and keep after a lost cause like the rest of you, just 'cause 'a real kung fu warrior never quits'…" He stabbed a shaking finger toward the door leading out into the ghoul-infested halls of Chorh-Gom.

 

"Didn't you see the way they just kept comin', no matter what we did? There's _no_ way we can win! This isn't like anything we ever done before…that Vachir, I don't know how he doin' this, but he's drivin' those things—and they're not gonna stop till we're all dead. Break off a leg? They're just gonna limp and crawl after us. You could dismember 'em completely, and I bet you their heads would keep hopping and wriggling across the floor so they could bite our kneecaps off! He's thought of everything—he's gonna win!"

 

Mantis was about to point out that Viper didn't have knees, and that neither his joints nor Crane's were particularly vulnerable either, when he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You sound like you _admire_ him." It wasn't a question.

 

Monkey paused, then shrugged, even as his sidelong look turned rather sly. "Why not? He a big hero during a lotta wars, the Emperor trusts him, and it looks to me like he know how to get a job done right, eh?"

 

From outside the guard room, in the cavernous pit of Chorh-Gom, there came a sudden, violent smash of metal against rock as something—most likely one of the bridges—came crashing down from above. Apparently the struggle against the rhino had become not only intense and rather spectacular, but highly dangerous. Yet neither of them budged an inch from where they were, not even to turn and look out the window.

 

Monkey had his chin jutted out challengingly, and Mantis's feelers were twitching in that telltale manner the simian would know to mean he was highly offended…and coldly furious. "You forget about all those innocent people he's killed?" the insect said quietly. "Or what he did to Tai Lung for twenty years?"

 

A momentary flicker of doubt crossed the langur's face, swiftly turning back into contempt and hate. "We don't know for sure it was him. Maybe it's someone else, and Vachir's just takin' the blame to scare us, make Tai Lung know he mean business. And I _still_ think he had the right of it…that snow leopard deserve everything he got."

 

Mantis shuddered at the sheer amount of poison in his friend's words…he didn't understand, when and how had Monkey become so vicious and unforgiving toward the ex-convict? "Maybe some of it," he admitted grudgingly. "But there's a limit to these kinda things, and I think Vachir went past them. The stuff he did…that's the kind of thing that'll scar a guy for life, even when you can't see it. No wonder he was so damn eager to get out of here…if he wasn't nuts when he got locked in here, he sure had a right to be after all that."

 

He paused again, deliberately, then shook his head. "But you don't believe that, do you? If you had your way, he'd be right back here, chained up for the rest of his life—wouldn't he? What's gotten into you?"

 

Arms crossed over his golden chest, the simian turned his face away dismissively. "Maybe I just don't like havin' to put up with him all the time, you think?"

 

"No, I don't," Mantis said darkly. Things he hadn't thought about before—odd mannerisms, strange word choices, nasty commentary far more vitriolic (and genuine) than his usual light-hearted banter, and an overall complete shift in personality—they were all coming together in his head, making a frightening mosaic. And he couldn't believe how dumb, and blind, he was not to have seen it before. The question was why…and how deeply did it run? "You trained with Master Oogway, the same as the rest of us. Whatever happened to his lessons about forgiveness?"

 

Monkey snorted derisively. "Who do you think I am, a saint? It's a nice thing to believe in, but it's just not possible. Not for me."

 

"Nothing is im—"

 

The fist that slammed down on the table, cutting him off and startling him into silence, just missed crushing him by an inch or two. "Shut up," the primate said, both his voice and face rather ugly now. "You don't know what you're talkin' about, so give it a rest, why don't you? We'll just stay here, where it's nice and safe—I insist. Everyone can take care of themselves."

 

A smile replaced his bared teeth, although the expression was almost identical save for the twisted, menacing delight in it. "'Cept maybe Tai Lung. And you know what? If something do happen to him, good riddance! I'm not losing one bit of sleep over him."

 

Slowly…very slowly…Mantis looked up at Monkey again. But this time he narrowed his eyes and used a different sort of sight when he examined his old friend—for thanks to his training in the arts of healing, especially acupuncture, he was familiar with all manner of ailments which could plague _chi_ , as well as what it should look like when it was healthy. And what he saw now—it terrified as well as enraged him.

 

All around the langur, where there should have been only a faint shimmer or, when meditating, a beautiful golden aura, there was instead a writhing, keening, twisted ring of black fire. Flames as dark as midnight, flat and lifeless, roiling and churning like a tempest-tossed sea, had completely surrounded Monkey's body until he could barely be seen. It was as if he were drowning in it…exuding it…glutted on it.

 

Clenching his jaw, the insect crossed his pincers and shook his head quite firmly. "That's as may be. But whatever happens to him won't really be your concern anymore. Because I'm afraid you really are gonna stay here, while I go back and join the others…whether you want to or not. Until we can decide what to do with you."

 

Monkey went very still, and to his credit tried to adopt an innocent and hurt look. It wasn't very convincing, however. "Wh-what? What're you talkin' about? Fine, if it means that much to you, I'll go back and help you fight. Hey, we're all gonna die, but at least we go out in a blaze of glory, eh?"

 

He cut off this last sarcastic mutter. "It's not about that. It's just, I finally figured it out. Vachir wasn't just bluffing. It was you, all along. You're the traitor. Aren't you?"

 

For a few moments more, the primate tried to maintain his puzzled and offended façade…but then at last, apparently deciding to brazen it out, Monkey smiled coldly and nodded, once. He leaned forward on the table, resting on his knuckles, as he eyed Mantis with veiled amusement. "Fine, you got me. What was your first clue? I was startin' to think I'd have to hit you over the head with it before ya got the point—wear black all the time, maybe, grow oleander in the garden, decorate my room with skulls…"

 

At any other time Mantis might have actually found that funny. But hearing confirmation of his suspicions only made his heart sink…and then harden. "Laugh it up, fuzzy," he snapped. "But we're not as dumb as you think we are. In fact, you've just been cleverer and you know it…whoever you are. There were all kinds of clues something wasn't right…but every one of us ignored them, because of who was in the middle of it all. If Crane or Viper had started acting the way you've been, it would've been a dead giveaway. But you, with the way you feel about Tai Lung? It was too easy to write it off as just more of your resentment."

 

Monkey actually took a bow, which only made Mantis bristle all the more. "Shoulda known I couldn't pull the wool over everyone's eyes; you're too smart for your own good, you know. So…what're you gonna do about it?" His voice was pugnacious and threatening, not at all like him, and both the leer he gave and the twisting of his lips made his features almost unrecognizable.

 

Getting right up in the simian's face, Mantis glared as coldly as he could muster before softening his expression into a mute, aching appeal. "Like I said, I don't know who you are, but I know the real Monkey is still in there somewhere! I'm not giving up on you, buddy, you hear me? I _know_ you can fight this! C'mon…you hold on long enough, let us help you, and maybe when we get you back to the Valley, Po and I can cleanse your _chi_ or something…I bet anything you can shake this guy's control over you—"

 

Without warning, faster than he ever could have thought possible, faster than even he or Viper could strike, Monkey lashed out with one hand to snatch him from the tabletop, and suddenly it was all Mantis could do to breathe. The langur's paw was incredibly, unnaturally strong, as if made out of iron! _I may have miscalculated here_ , he realized belatedly, lamely.

 

This was confirmed when the hand abruptly pressed him against the stone wall, grinding him into its rough surface…and as he began to gasp and wheeze, seeing spots before his eyes and feeling his exoskeleton start to crack, he didn't know if what he saw was real or a hallucination. Monkey leaned close until their faces were almost touching, his rancid breath impossible to ignore. "You lose," he hissed harshly.

 

And then, deep within those eyes he had known for almost ten years, he saw a crimson fire ignite, growing ruddier, fiercer, more wild and flagrantly out-of-control, dancing with a demonic delight. He spoke again, only this time a second voice intertwined beneath and amongst it, the same way it had Vachir's—in fact it was the same voice, much deeper than Monkey's normal tone, just as deep as the rhino's, and more menacing, smug, and vicious than even Tai Lung's had been at the Thread of Hope. "Say hello…to Oogway for me…"

 

Monkey's other fist clenched and drew back—and that was the last thing Mantis saw, flying with crushing force toward his face, before everything faded…faded…

                                                                       

* * *

 

Elsewhere in the looming, monumental fortress of Chorh-Gom, the sounds of battle still echoed and resounded from every cliff face, barbican, guard tower, and bridgework, until it seemed as if an army had indeed arisen from the depths to infiltrate and overwhelm the battered shell of the prison. And that wasn't far from the truth, since the sheer number of revenants suggested that a fair portion of the Anvil of Heaven had been resurrected into this unholy half-life, if not the entirety of it.

 

Everywhere Crane and Viper turned, they encountered another contingent rearing out of the shadows to horrify and nauseate them—from concealed panels, from behind arrow slits, out of radiating passages and sentry towers, even from ledges on the bare cliff face. They were mute and without intellect or wisdom; they used no logic save for direct, unrelenting, pounding assault; and they were so top-heavy, single-minded, and easily tricked that they were soon falling in great numbers, like vile drops of tainted rain, from balconies, battlements, and creases.

 

But where those were eliminated, more always seemed to rise to take their place. Whether clad in ill-fitting, crumbling armor or only bare bones, whether rotting carcasses or pale, almost living figures that gazed at the warriors in mingled hollowness and despair as if they begged to be set free from this cursed existence…still they came. And while Crane and Viper were becoming extremely weary and distraught—a condition that made them as prone to fatal mistakes as it did slow their reaction times and ability to think on the fly—their enemies were not.

 

They would not stop, would not lose morale or hope, neither wavering nor faltering nor retreating. They would continue coming until they had been dismembered into tiny pieces…or they had taken everyone with them to join them in the charnel house.

 

It wasn't for lack of trying on the part of the Jade Palace masters, however. In point of fact, Viper had indeed succeeded in lashing out again and again with her tail, head, or simple angles of her coils, snapping the joints and sockets of all who came against her until nothing was left but scattered limbs, severed vertebrae, and loose skulls littering the parapets—debris which, while still animated and doing its best to crawl or roll after them, could easily be pushed over the side to vanish in the bottomless darkness.

 

And Crane had performed similar feats with the strikes of his wings and feet, when he wasn't simply causing the rhinos to turn aside, bounce, or otherwise be flung violently aside. This tended to result in exploding clouds of bones and flesh whenever they struck spikes, columns, and catapults, or the toppling of the flailing zombies from one arching span after another.

 

All of this occurred in utter silence, without screams, cries, or even moans from their enemies…they had no indication if the dead rhinos were grateful to be freed of this endless nightmare, if they were even aware of it at all, or if they hated being deprived of the chance to slaughter their prey. They had only their own thoughts for company, and every look they exchanged became increasingly frightened and troubled.

 

But then, in the midst of all this carnage and disturbing whirlwind of nonstop kung fu, something penetrated both of their minds at once. Rising above the crashes of plate mail, bone, rock, and striking weapons, they heard it—a single, desperate, hideous screech. It rose above the sounds of battle, emerging from somewhere across the gulf, where numerous guard houses dotted the bulwarks, so out-of-place and unexpected it chilled their blood. It sounded strangled and ragged, as if the one who had given it had been cut off in the middle—whether its owner's throat had been choked, crushed, or slashed was impossible to know. What was clear…was just who had screamed.

 

Turning from where he had just smashed through a rhino's breastbone with one tucked-under, stiffened foot, Crane spun in the direction from which it had come, his bill hanging open and his chest heaving wildly. "No… _no_! That was—did you hear it, Viper? It was—"

 

"I know," the serpent said grimly, her expression as bleak and despairing as he had ever seen it. She dispatched another zombie, sending it crashing to the ground with a horizontal clothesline strike, where it burst apart into trembling, twitching bones that she swept off the ledge with a shudder. "It was Mantis."

 

"Do you think he's—and what about Monkey…?" The waterfowl swung his leg at a sharp angle, tripping up a soldier still coated with clotted gore so that it fell silently into the abyss.

 

"Only one way to know," Viper said crisply. "Come on, let's go."

 

Both of them could see Tigress and Master Shifu returning to the fight from a high angle along the cavern wall, leaping down simultaneously to land atop the crumbling slope of a curved, peaked roof and from there to the narrow wall walk. There, flanking each other, back to back, father and daughter struck out with feet and fists (and in the panda's case, his staff) to smash through the surging lines of rhinos with blinding speed, not even a gasp or wipe of a brow to suggest they were lacking in stamina and cool calm under pressure.

 

Yet the Li Dai graduate and the Protector of the Moon Festival ignored them, other than a brief rustle of a wing and a dip from Crane's _dou li_. They only were intent on wading through and then past the milling, relentless throng…aiming straight toward the door from the parapet which they judged would lead them to the right corridors, the path that would take them to their friends.

 

And, if at the end of it, they found one or both of the bachelor masters dead…then there would be no mercy for the ones responsible.

                                                                       

* * *

 

High atop the cliff face, beyond the crumbling, truncated stump of one of the stone bridges, only fifty feet below the broad ledge that fronted the entrance to Chorh-Gom, Tai Lung was still leaping, springing, and vaulting upwards, digging his claws into the stone with the same sort of spark-inducing scrapes as he'd used when going after the explosives in the heights of the cavern.

 

Although he wasn't urged on by an insane determination to escape, his almost mindless desire for the Dragon Scroll, or simple revenge against Vachir, he wasn't out of condition anymore either—though he gasped and panted with his exertions, he knew he had enough strength and stamina left to achieve victory, if he could only figure out the key to winning…

 

Suddenly he felt something close around one trailing ankle with a grip as crushing as a vise, and twice as cold. He tried to shake it off, only to hear that hated laugh and then experience the sickening plunge of free fall as the rhino jerked hard, ripping him free of the cliff face. He twisted and caught himself as he fell, of course, so that he landed adroitly on the ledge below him, but it was still infuriating to be caught and taken advantage of like that—especially when his adversary was grinning and taunting him again.

 

"Nuh-uh. You ain't getting away that easily. Not this time."

 

"You call that easy?" the snow leopard marveled, chuckling in spite of himself.

 

"I don't know," Vachir retorted. "You sure were making it look like a walk in the Emperor's gardens when you got away last time."

 

Grinning nastily, Tai Lung couldn't help needling his enemy—it might just throw him off balance, and it felt damn good in any event. "Well, yes, that's what I do. And I even stopped to smell Chen's roses too, just to give you a fighting chance. If I'd _really_ been trying, well…"

 

His plan worked. Something vicious and bloodthirsty seemed to ignite inside those dark, tiny eyes, and then the rhino launched himself forward with a roar. Tai Lung managed to dodge just in time, since he marked the warning signs long in advance, only to have to leap again and again—for Vachir was as usual relentless. Back up the spiraling ledge they climbed, the cat forced to spring and vault himself in a retreat that wounded his pride almost as much as the constant near-misses must be doing to the warden.

 

But Tai Lung maintained his temper by keeping the long view…he knew what he was doing, he knew where he was leading his opponent, which meant each forced retreat was in actuality a small victory, as it all added up to just the right lure…

 

Finally, when they were only twenty feet below the promontory, the snow leopard acted—instead of simply avoiding Vachir's fists again, he gathered all the power in his coiled haunches and turned, springing up the side of the cliff until he landed lightly and with ease on the ledge he had missed by a claw's-breadth three months ago. Twisting back, he peered down to see the rhino attempting the same leap he himself had made to escape the toppling segments of the severed bridge.

 

And just as had happened to the spotted feline, Vachir's fingers just missed the lip of the edge—only he didn't even have any claws to try and break his fall. As the rhino plunged downward, Tai Lung couldn't help himself—he grinned, the same exact hated leer he'd seen on the warden's face, laughed in almost the same dark, cocky tones, and even lifted a paw to wave his fingers in as dismissive and mocking a manner as he could.

_Yes, I know I'm being insufferably childish and immature. Do I care? Hell no_ — _this feels damn good, and he's had it a long time coming!_

 

Unfortunately, like himself the rhino still had a few tricks up his sleeve (which was saying something, since he didn't even wear any). For even as he fell, Vachir kicked out against the wall with such force that he was immediately hurled across the cavern yet again, arcing downward so that this time he landed on another bridge angling across the far side. Snarling to himself, Tai Lung followed suit, leaping over the edge of the precipice, but by the time he reached the same span, Vachir was of course ready and waiting for him.

 

Spreading his arms wide, he laughed harshly, eyes narrowed speculatively. "See, the thing of it is, no matter what you do, I ain't gonna rest till you're stopped. All that shit I did to you when you were here? That's just the start of what I could do if I got really inventive. I don't gotta hide it from Shifu anymore. And all those people I've killed since you got out? None of that would've happened if you'd just stayed put, taken your punishment like a man. You just had to go back for that damn scroll…to get a title that wasn't yours, no matter who ya had to go through, for people who ain't ever gonna forgive ya or accept ya no matter what you do.

 

"And I've made sure of that…when I get done with you here, everyone's gonna hear how all those who died bit the big one as part of my trap to get rid of you. So you're still gonna get the blame for it all. Even people who didn't care one way or the other are gonna hate you now…and the ones who already did, well they're gonna be begging for your death, and trying to bleed ya dry themselves, same as I am! Especially that elephant, he really wanted your hide even before I killed and gutted his kid…"

 

The rhino paused, his eyes taking on a faraway look, and a demented, almost lustful smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, that felt good, all right…knowing that even though I was the one gettin' his blood all over me, you were the one his dad was gonna hate, since I told him just why I was doin' this…"

 

Something seemed to explode in an enormous ball of roiling fire inside him as he realized just who Vachir was referring to—there weren't many elephants in the Valley of Peace, and only one he knew of who already resented and hated him. He could care less about Wei Chang personally, after the way the pachyderm had treated both himself and Tigress. But to know that a helpless child had been the victim of the rhino's twisted vendetta…that the boy's father was certain to cause even more trouble for him now, should he make it back to the Valley…

 

Worst of all, while the snow leopard would not shed any tears should Chang himself have died, he did know the elephant had a wife who would now be weeping piteously, most likely a broken woman because she had lost her only child. And even a blowhard like Chang did not deserve to lose his son. No parent should have to go through that…although he had not believed it for years, after their reconciliation he had finally understood that even Shifu had been shattered by Tai Lung's betrayal and subsequent imprisonment.

 

He did not want to know this was happening all over again, even peripherally because of himself…and if as Vachir said, others began to actively blame him for this…for the one crime he had never committed, and never would if he had to die first to prevent it…

 

All of this, somehow, passed through his mind in less than a minute, while the rhino stood there grinning, waiting for the impact to hit him and truly break his spirit. Or perhaps he was simply trying to goad Tai Lung again. If so, he got exactly what he wanted—for with fists clenched, he finally let out a thunderous, blood-curdling roar and threw himself with all his might at Vachir.

 

The rhino was ready and waiting for him, arms spread almost in a mockery of an embrace, before he caught him in a crushing, painfully constricting hold. The snow leopard let out an aggrieved gasp, for Vachir had an exceptional amount of upper-body strength and was using it to its fullest advantage. Struggling mightily to free himself, Tai Lung twisted and wrenched about until he succeeded in freeing one arm—which he immediately used to punch the rhino, with the entirety of his own phenomenal strength, as deep and hard as he could in the warden's gut.

 

He felt something give way, and Vachir immediately lost his hold and staggered backward, groaning in agony. But somehow, despite the internal injury he'd just suffered, he summoned up enough will to evade Tai Lung's follow-up roundhouse—in fact he leaped backward along the bridge with almost as much agility as he'd ever possessed. And when the feline followed him to try and deliver another, the rhino abruptly leaned back, tucked one leg up against his body, and struck out—blocking the roundhouse with his shin.

 

Despite his ferocity and murderous impulses, Tai Lung gasped, and not just because the bone he'd struck was solid and rigid enough to smash into a pulp the foot of any fighter who had not been as well-trained as the snow leopard. He knew that manner of defense, had studied it briefly even if he had never adopted the techniques himself—it hailed from somewhere far to the south, beyond the Himalayas, in a land known as Siam. He'd had no idea Vachir had traveled that far afield, or studied such disparate and devastating martial arts forms. Suddenly, he no longer felt so confident…while it was still possible to win (assuming he could manage a fatal blow that the rhino's dark _chi_ powers didn't simply repair), it was by no means a foregone conclusion now.

 

Vachir seemed to realize he'd faltered and why, for he was grinning cockily even through the grimace of pain on his face. He gestured for the snow leopard to close body-to-body with him, daring him to risk his worst. Tai Lung didn't fall for it, instead hanging back and vacillating from side to side as much as the narrow bridge permitted. When the rhino finally tired of baiting him and moved in to attack with what looked like a hook strike, the snow leopard was ready, raising his elbow forward and effectively shielding his head with his forearm, flexed biceps, and shoulder.

 

He returned the blow with a high strike toward Vachir's head, intending to backhand him with full stunning force, but the rhino countered with his granite-like forearm. Then the attacks came too quickly for him to track, and Tai Lung could only concentrate on staying alive, upright, and conscious. He kicked out as hard as he possibly could, to attempt another debilitating strike in the rhino's already wounded gut, but Vachir dodged, then latched onto his leg and tried to twist his ankle—a move he suspected wasn't much different from what Wu Xiu had done to Tigress.

 

Just in time, he succeeded in wrenching free and instead slamming his heel into Vachir's chin as he backflipped away from him. The warden shook his head, stunned, but then pursued him—and while it looked as if he intended to simply punch his hated prisoner's lights out, at the last second it proved to be a fakeout: ducking and twisting downward with astonishing speed, the rhino performed a flawless spinning heel kick that struck Tai Lung right in the chest.

 

As he flew backwards to slam into the stone railing, he swore for a moment the blow had stopped his heart…he knew for certain, as he massaged the spot Vachir had struck, that he had underestimated the rhino severely. A blowhard, an arrogant ass, and a cruel, petty tyrant he might be, but he was also an extremely powerful and versatile fighter. He might just deserve the reputation the Emperor's good graces, the Anvil of Heaven, and his legendary disputes with the Mongols had given him.

 

The warden came at him again, without any warning, but Tai Lung managed to duck in time, somewhat ignominiously crawling directly between the rhino's spread legs to scuttle out onto the bridge behind him. There, as he twisted upright and backed away, both paws held up to block, Vachir charged at him—and his fierce, violent attacks drove Tai Lung relentlessly and powerfully down the length of the span. A corkscrew punch that caught him in the temple, a spinning backfist that bruised his jaw, a cobra punch that threw him back ten feet and made his vision hazy and indistinct for many precious seconds—Vachir knew them all.

 

His elbows got in on the act, striking and chopping in mid-air as well as cutting across him at various angles—literally at one point, as the rhino quite surgically dealt Tai Lung an uppercut blow across his face that cut his eyebrow open, so that the blood leaking heavily from the wound further marred his eyesight. Taking advantage of that, Vachir followed up with a foot-thrust that knocked Tai Lung off-balance, then lunged in close to catch him in a side clinch. Suddenly the snow leopard was gasping, struggling to not only stay on his feet but not to roar in agony—for of course the rhino was now using his position to perform one jab and knee strike after another, right into the small of his back, mercilessly pummeling his spine and kidneys in quick succession.

 

Furiously, throwing aside all pretense at honor in favor of simply escaping, surviving, and making Vachir pay, Tai Lung brought his own elbow down on the rhino's head, hard enough to crack bone. Since his enemy's sloping back was open to him as they grappled along the bridge, he returned each and every strike he'd been dealt in kind. He managed to knee the rhino's stomach, jabbed him under the arm to strike one of the most sensitive nerve points there, repeatedly, until Vachir screamed and let him go.

 

And then they traded one dirty blow after another—the snow leopard kicking the rhino in the solar plexus until he was vomiting on the ground, the warden recovering in time to strike out with a low roundhouse that spilled the cat on his backside and almost broke his knee, another groin shot battering Vachir's mail skirt with even more force than before, an axe strike coming down at Tai Lung's head that he dodged so as to take it on his shoulder instead—a sacrificial decision that might just cost him, since he felt something give way, either a ligament or tendon, he wasn't sure which. Whatever it was, it nearly drove him to his knees.

 

Looking up, he saw the rhino standing over him, a ferocious, hungry grin on his face…and as he half-knelt against the railing, he realized that thanks to his still throbbing back, his sore foot, and the counterpoint pain in his knee that suggested it would soon be swollen and taking that leg out of commission, he couldn't get out of Vachir's way in time before he struck again. Yet knowing this somehow brought him the calm he'd failed to find until that moment…and he knew what he had to do.

 

The rhino came for him, a punch that if it landed would most likely knock him out completely—but as that horny fist swung in his direction, Tai Lung managed to stagger up and back, leaning even farther over the railing, and when the punch landed on his already bruised shoulder, he latched onto Vachir's arm, digging his claws in as deeply as he possibly could. Blood welled up from four jagged piercings, and the rhino swore violently, but more importantly, he was dragged forward along with the snow leopard.

 

The punch staggered him; he fell backwards; and with a triumphant grin watched the look of terror appear on Vachir's face as he too was pulled along, both of them toppling off the bridge into the chasm.

 

Down, down, nearly a hundred feet they fell, the entire way struggling, grasping, punching, kicking—even, in some cases, biting and clawing. But Tai Lung refused to let go—if he was going to die, he was taking this bastard with him straight down to the underworld so he could never harm anyone again and call it justice. He did succeed in at least twisting in mid-air so that Vachir was beneath him—wherever they landed, the rhino would be taking the brunt of the blow, of that he was determined. Otherwise, he simply weathered the punishments his enemy dealt him, wincing and biting his lip but still returning as many punches and blows as he could spare with his free paw.

 

Out of the gloom below them, rock materialized, and with a startled recognition that turned to resignation, Tai Lung saw it was the pinnacle he'd knelt on for twenty years, where all of this had started. The only thing he regretted, as they fell closer, was that there were no longer any chains and boulders to tie to Vachir's own wrists—he'd love to see if the rhino's strength could possibly match his own in that regard. "Back to the beginning," he purred harshly in the rhino's face—shoving him back and down with as much force as he could muster.

 

They landed with a violent _thud_ and a sickening crunch of bone and muscle…and to Tai Lung's gratefulness and wonder, his position atop the rhino meant that other than the jarring pain that jostled through him right down to his marrow and joints, he was perfectly intact. Or as well as he could be under the circumstances. Vachir didn't seem so lucky, judging by the awkward angle at which he'd landed, including the twisted position of one leg which looked to be wrenched out of its socket. And the gleaming white of snapped bone protruding from his elbow didn't look too good, either.

 

Yet Tai Lung knew that unless he could deal a true deathblow, the dark _chi_ would simply heal Vachir once again. So he unsheathed his claws and brought them down at the rhino's throat—he didn't bother with final words, a parting shot, as such a delay could conceivably mean escape for his enemy and by now such a thing was beneath him. He just wanted this to be over and done with.

 

Except…right as his paw came down into Vachir's trachea, it somehow became…foggy, ephemeral, dissolving into swirling black mist. And then the same thing happened to the rhino's entire body, and with a last sinister grin and a nasty smirk, he disappeared in a cloud of inky darkness, leaving Tai Lung kneeling alone on the pinnacle once again.

 

He looked up in shock, disbelief, and impotent fury. _What the hell? No… **no!** He is not getting away with this…not now, not after all he's done…_ That Vachir was still out there, he had no doubt. This newly-revealed mystical ability had given him time to heal, might even accelerate the process—the bastard would not truly be dead until he saw the light leave his eyes and his body, more than likely, dissolve into ashes and dust. Until then, he would continue hounding him, haunting him, coming back to finish what he'd started, until Tai Lung couldn't hold him back and succumbed…

 

"Tai Lung? Tai Lung! Gods, what happened to you—where is he…?"

 

Looking up wildly and wiping the blood out of his eyes as he recognized that voice, he felt a surging welter of emotions—gratitude she still lived, tenderness and love as he heard the compassion and concern in her voice, and utter fear as he realized she was more in danger now than ever before. Indeed, it was Tigress, running toward him along the drawbridge—and right on her heels, he saw, was Master Shifu, followed closely by Monkey with a desperate and horrified look on his face, then Crane and Viper looking more murderous and grim than he'd ever seen them. Oddly, they seemed less to be rushing to join the others as chasing the simian…

 

"No! No, wait! You've got to get out of here, he's not—"

 

Too late. Right as he called out his warning, Tigress leaped onto the pinnacle, rushing toward his side to help him up—and out of nowhere, the darkness parted to churn and roil into a pillar of ebony, smoky mist. It coalesced and gathered right behind the striped feline, coiling and wrapping around her as if chains of obsidian, clamping her arms to her sides and rendering her mostly helpless…and then Vachir had reformed, his arms replacing the mist to hold her trapped and pinned against his bulky body. One arm encircled her ribs with crushing pressure, one foot had clamped hers to the ground—and his other hand held a jagged-edged dagger encrusted with dried blood, which he held bare centimeters away from Tigress's throat.

 

"Nuh-uh, that's far enough," he snapped as first Shifu, then Monkey, also arrived at the pinnacle and started to move toward him. "Or her pretty neck's gettin' slashed." Both of them froze in place.

 

Very slowly—and not just because of his battered, bruised body—Tai Lung got to his feet and held out both paws placatingly. "Vachir…this is between you and me, you know that. Let her go."

 

The rhino twitched his lips into a contemptuous and amused smirk. "You know what? Since you asked me so nice—no, I don't think so. See, I _told_ ya not to bring anyone else with ya, but ya went and did it anyway. Stupid. So this is what you get."

 

Panic began flooding his heart, making his entire body tremble, feeling weak and hollow. He couldn't lose Tigress, not now, especially not to this heartless, despicable killer. An inch at a time, he tried to move toward the rhino—noting, with rising fear, that they stood incredibly too close to the edge of the pinnacle. "No…please." He heard the aching in his voice, tried to disguise it, then swallowed hard and forced himself to say a word he never thought he would, and truly didn't mean.

 

"Please…sir. Commander Vachir." He held out both paws submissively, as if ready to be manacled. "I'll do anything you ask. I'll come with you…I'll go back to prison. I'll even kneel before you and not move away while you ready your axe. Anything. Just…let her go. I'm begging you."

 

The look on Vachir's face was indescribable—stunned and disbelieving as he heard such genuine, heartfelt emotion from his former prisoner, something he had likely believed Tai Lung incapable of, especially if it related to love and other tender emotions…disgusted but also smug at how the snow leopard was finally willing to debase himself in front of the rhino…and dawning with realization as he slowly understood why it was Tai Lung was being so cooperative, what his plea really meant.

 

But before he could say anything, the spotted feline heard a suggestive and insistent clearing of a feminine throat, and as he flicked his eyes to Tigress's face he saw her duck her head the barest fraction of an inch, gesturing down toward something along her side. He flicked his eyes down again—and his breath locked in his throat.

 

Flat along the side of her thigh, hidden in the folds of her trousers so that Vachir hadn't seen it when he grabbed her, the leader of the Furious Five was clutching a _dao_ saber she must have picked up from one of the prison armories, or even a fallen soldier.

 

He couldn't stop himself. Looking back up at her face, he blurted out, "Gods, I love you."

 

A brow quirked, and then Tigress smirked at him. "I know."

 

Hearing this, Vachir obviously had his suspicions confirmed, for he actually threw back his head and laughed, loudly and raucously—though whether at the idea of Tai Lung in love at all or whom he'd set his sights on wasn't clear. "Oh _man_! I thought I'd seen everything, but this…" Snickering and shaking his head as if to clear it of amusing mental images, he glanced from one cat to the other. "Awwww, ain't this cute. The widdle kitty's fallen in wuv! At least he's got good taste in women, heh."

 

Tai Lung snarled, more hatefully and viciously than he ever had in his life, and took a menacing step toward the rhino. He was also pleased to hear Tigress echo his snarl, though he didn't know if it was because she also disliked hearing Tai Lung mocked for loving her or because she simply wanted the commander to get his ugly mitts off her. But before either of them could say or do anything, another voice interrupted them—one choked by just as much hate, despair, and fury, one with a very familiar accent.

 

"How…how dare you, Tigress! How could you betray us by…by lovin' that fiend! I knew it! As soon as you two came back from that cave, I knew it! It's…it's just like Vachir said, you've turned on us, you've joined him and turned your back on the Jade Palace!" Monkey stepped forward to the center of the pinnacle, his face a ravaged and tear-streaked mask even as he directed all his anger and disgust at the striped feline, who looked utterly confused and upset. "Well, I'm not gonna let you do this…I'm not gonna let him turn you to evil…and if I can't have you, _no one_ will…definitely not him!" And drawing a dagger from somewhere unseen, he leaped toward Tigress…

 

Gasping in horror, Tai Lung didn't even stop to think, simply springing into action. He saw Tigress struggling to escape the rhino's clutches, and Vachir trying to evade the incoming primate as much as his captive was—whether to protect himself or keep from losing his hostage, who knew. He saw the commander perform that arcane gesture again, and another contingent of rhino zombies burst out onto the drawbridge. He saw Shifu turn with an agonized look but also an unwavering resolve as he brought his staff to bear to face them alone, to give the others the time they needed. He saw Crane and Viper leaping forward to try and grab onto Monkey and hold him back. But in the end, only one thing mattered—getting there to save the woman he loved.

 

He leaped forward with all the speed and reflexes he could manage—and got there just in time. The blade of the knife flashed in the light as it came down, then vanished as it was abruptly buried in Tai Lung's side. He screamed, his knees buckling, even as he saw, to his horror, hellish balls of flame suddenly burning and surging in Monkey's widened, crazed eyes.

 

Muscular tattooed coils and gray wing feathers were grabbing the simian's arms, wrenching him backward and dragging him toward the drawbridge—Crane had the langur by the back of his head, almost snapping his neck as a terrible, menacing look shadowed his features, and Viper with tears in her eyes was saying something about Mantis that he couldn't understand.

 

But then he heard another sound, another agonized cry and then a choking gasp, as if someone had been impaled…he felt a sudden wet warmth on his back, as if someone had drenched it with coughed-up blood. Twisting about despite the pain it caused in his side, he stared—in shock, but also a growing flood of explosive relief.

 

Tigress had taken advantage of the struggle to stomp hard on Vachir's foot, then knee him in the groin if the rhino clutching himself there were any indication. She stood only a few inches from him, but free and unencumbered—and the _dao_ saber was buried to the hilt, right in Vachir's abdomen.

 

Everyone froze in place, stunned by the violence and swiftness with which it had all ended. The zombies hesitated on the drawbridge, looking somehow confused and fearful. Something seemed to…flicker…in Vachir's eyes, echoed by a similar shimmer in Monkey's. The rhino shook his head once, twice…his expression clearing, becoming puzzled, startled—and inexplicably, grateful. Now clutching his stomach, he shivered, shuddered, and then looked from Tigress to Tai Lung with tears in his eyes.

 

He spoke, his voice having lost all the menace, contempt, and hatred it had borne for so long, now a soft whisper which breathed relief, wonder, and an odd gentleness. "Gods…I can't believe it. You did it…you actually did it…"

 

Before anyone could ask what exactly these words meant, the blood which had coated the rhino's chin and chest ceased flowing, to be replaced by something darker, blacker, billowing and swirling as much as it dripped and poured down his body. As had happened once before, in an acupuncture session in Mantis's room, black _chi_ was escaping from Vachir's mouth in a veritable fountain—it was also, Tai Lung saw to his shock, gushing out of the wound in his belly as if the sword had broken through a dam holding it back. As before, it made the rock sizzle, scorch, and smolder wherever it touched.

 

This time, however, it didn't end there—for instead of pooling on the ground, it rose up into the air, forming a diffuse and shimmering cloud all around the rhino, and slowly expanding outward over the pinnacle. For a few moments more, it hung over the chasm like a thunderhead—then Vachir stiffened, every muscle in his body spasming and convulsing violently, and the _chi_ exploded in a wild, uncontrolled burst from his mouth and belly…joined the cloud…and then with a deafening detonation, blasted outward in a colossal disk of energy.

 

It passed over Monkey, lifted him off his feet, and hurled him—along with Crane and Viper—all the way across the chasm to slam hard into the wall of the keep above one of the many parapets and balconies. The simian, too, was shuddering and gyrating vigorously as if in the middle of his death throes, an aura of equally dark, wicked energy radiating out from his body in an expanding halo to join the one leaving Vachir.

 

The disk continued onward, sending Shifu spinning through the air to land on the platform fronting the drawbridge. The zombies, still poised there, quivered when the blast wave struck them, then immediately withered and rotted in seconds, dissolving into a putrid slime that then turned to bone dust and blew away in the rising wind. The drawbridge itself also shriveled, cracked, and split, dropping slowly into the chasm even as it continued disintegrating.

 

And then, as he held his paw over his bleeding side and wondered, vaguely, if it would be wise to try and remove the dagger embedded there, Tai Lung felt the pinnacle itself shudder, all the way down to its far-distant base. The rock cracked…snapping with a sharp report in the cavernous space…and then the solitary column began to tip, crumbling off its support and toppling with an almost grand majesty into the empty shadows below.

 

He saw Tigress leap desperately for the edge, in a vain and futile attempt to make it across the ever-widening gap to the parapet. He saw Vachir falling too, the sword still plunged into his body and emerging from his back, an oddly contented and peaceful expression on his face…but all he cared about was the striped feline.

 

"Tigress! **_NO!_** "

 

Tai Lung leaped…he snagged her by the waist, catching her out of the air and pressing her close against his body…but then, as he dropped and arced downward to push off of the pinnacle for his own desperate jump to the safety of the keep, his feet only came down on nothing. Their support had already fallen.

 

Unable to even muster the will to roar and rail against the heavens, the snow leopard plummeted—with Tigress in his arms, and past the equally limp, passively resigned form of Vachir—into the abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few minor comments. The philosophy Tigress and Vachir quote at each other, interestingly enough, both come from either Buddha himself or Buddhist teachings in general. All part of my continued quest to balance things and show that both sides in this are right and wrong. (Apparently the Enlightened One's words can be made to support contradictory arguments just as easily as the Bible's can.) Yes, I had to quote _Star Wars_ for Tai Lung and Tigress's exchange—the lines fit them as well as they do Han and Leia. The first section should, I hope, help you know Zhuang better now, answer questions about him and Xiulan (yes I did research on widows and marriage rights in ancient China), and of course provide you with the dramatic irony of Chang's message. Lastly, the falling bridge sequence is my homage to Terry Brooks and one of my favorite scenes from _Elfstones of Shannara_ , the flight from the Reaper in the Pykon. And yes, you saw right, that was Thai boxing Vachir was doing.
> 
> One point of interest, a foreshadowing that you might have missed relevant to this chapter, this bit from Monkey's thoughts back in Chapter 15: _No, the familial love and firm, unshakable trust between them was as dead and buried as Tai Lung's cubhood, or the thousand rhinos he had killed escaping Chorh-Gom. And, Monkey privately believed, as dead as the goodness and loyalty the snow leopard had once possessed._ We got to see Tai Lung's cubhood wasn't dead in Chapter 13; the love and trust between him and Shifu was reestablished in 21; and it's pretty clear by now that Tai still has goodness and loyalty in him. Ergo, if all those things didn't stay 'dead and buried', it stands to reason the thousand rhinos wouldn't either. I'm rather pleased no one seemed to pick up on this subtlety...if you had, it meant I was being too obvious. :P


	31. An Understanding

 

 

" ** _OW!_** "

 

"Well, now you know how I felt when I was on the receiving end of this. Gods, are _all_ men babies when it comes to getting injured? And here I thought you could shrug off absolutely anything as a 'flesh wound'." She smirked.

 

"What d'you think I'm made of, iron? I've got a constitution to die for, but even _I've_ got limits. Getting stabbed isn't at all the same as breaking bones in the training hall, you know. And by the way, you're welcome." This last was somehow uttered with both sincerity and a sardonic lilt at the same time.

 

"Yes, thank you for making sure I wasn't the one getting bandaged, again." Similarly, her retort also had an undertone of genuine appreciation and respect. "But I really am being as careful as I can, Tai Lung."

 

"Oh, really? Seems to me you're the one— _ouch!_ —making things too tight this time around." He would have flailed at her, if the arm on that side weren't rather useless at the moment.

 

An arch curve of her lips accompanied the identical tone in her voice. "I didn't hear you complaining about that when we were in that cave last night. In fact, didn't you say something about wanting it 'tighter'?"

 

"So? You were the one wanting it 'harder', I recall…"

 

From the other side of the ledge, a deep if rather faint and hoarse voice groaned, and when it spoke it sounded muffled, as if its owner had hidden his face behind his hand. "Oh for cryin' out loud, would you two get married already? Or at least get a room…"

 

It had been a long, hundred-foot drop into the chasm of Chorh-Gom, and for most of that fall Tai Lung and Tigress had alternately been doing their best to slow their descent—once they dropped within range of one of the rocky walls, using their unsheathed claws to dig in as deep as they could without breaking them, leaving immense gouges in the stone and sending out bright, flashing sparks and ear-splitting scraping in equal measure.

 

It had turned out to be enough to save their lives when a ledge finally hove into view for them to land upon—though not enough to leave the snow leopard entirely unscathed, for in his attempt to remain on the bottom and thus shield the striped feline from the worst of the impact, he had twisted and landed in such a way as to slam his shoulder hard into the rocky shelf…and unsurprisingly, this had prompted an agonized scream, eventually fading into a soft whimper.

 

Somehow, whether due to his ability to withstand great injury or the speed they had shaved off of their fall, he hadn't broken or smashed any bones—but he had felt something give way with a wet pop, and while he'd never experienced one before, he was positive even before Tigress examined him that he'd dislocated his shoulder.

 

He had lain prone and motionless for many long minutes, panting and trying to recover his breath after such a terrifying brush with death, as well as simply trying not to move and aggravate his injuries. But Tigress, with her ever practical, no-nonsense, take-charge attitude, had almost immediately sat up from atop his chest and, after making sure she herself was uninjured and a few breather moments, at once set to putting his limb back into alignment.

 

Thanks to her almost unnatural strength, the leader of the Furious Five had readily—and without hesitation, gentleness, or apparent concern—lifted his arm and jerked it firmly into place…which, as any patient naturally would, had caused Tai Lung to scream bloody murder for the second time in as many minutes. With that taken care of, she had moved on to his wounded side even as the snow leopard was still massaging his deltoid and keeping his throbbing, aching shoulder as still as possible.

 

And once the knife was removed—something which would have prompted yet another scream if he hadn't bitten his tongue until it bled—Tigress had begun bandaging his ribs with strips torn from her vest and trousers. Since she didn't have access to any of Mantis's medicines or coagulants, she had noted coolly, with all the calmness and dispassion of one who was rolling out noodle dough or doing calligraphy, she had to make do with what she had—hence why she was forced to tie the bandages so tightly to keep him from bleeding to death until they could get him proper treatment. Hence, in turn, why he was now complaining and moaning so vociferously and, he had to admit, rather repetitively.

 

In the end, though, Tai Lung also realized, to his mingled guilt and admiration, that Tigress was actually incredibly knowledgeable and skilled when it came to treating injuries—whether because she'd had to learn it on the field of battle or because it was as essential a part of her training as it had been his own. Which meant he had truly been out of line, criticizing and lecturing her a month and a half ago about her own injuries. And he also had to be grateful she was with him, or else matters would have turned out…far less happily.

 

As for the third person on the ledge…falling onto solid rock from such a height while pierced by a sword would not have been a pleasant prospect for anyone, but the fact Vachir no longer was protected by the invulnerability and dark _chi_ healing abilities had rendered him…less than whole upon landing. Even if the two felines had wanted to help him, and had the means to do so, there was really nothing that could be done for him—only make him as comfortable as possible…and then, as they waited for the others to find and rescue them, slowly watch him die.

 

When Tigress had finally finished her ministrations (and the snow leopard managed to wrench out his claws, which had embedded themselves in the stone beneath him), Tai Lung slid back until he could gingerly rest himself against the cliff which loomed above them. Narrowing his eyes, he peered upward into the gloom, but could discern nothing; ever since the crumbling remnants of the pinnacle had toppled past their ledge to disappear into the depths of the abyss, there had been nothing more from the heights of the prison—no sounds, no more tumbling pebbles, and no silhouettes, not even Crane winging down to pinpoint their location.

 

He didn't know if the others presumed them dead and lost and so weren't even looking, if they were still attempting to work out a plan of action before beginning their search, or worst of all, if something had happened to them—if they weren't looking because they couldn't. _No, I can't believe that. They're still alive, have to think positively. We survived after all_.

 

Then again, they were three of the most resilient (some would rightly say stubborn) kung fu warriors in China…not to mention, there was still the matter of the traitor Monkey…if he were still free, and had not been freed from dark _chi_ possession as Vachir seemed to have been…

 

As if his thoughts had summoned the rhino, the warden suddenly spoke from where he leaned against the cliff a few feet away. "Damn. After all this time, all the battles I've been in, all the shit I've lived through…I never thought I'd be dying like this. Slow and painful, without anybody who cared about me even knowin' where I am, with only two people who hate my guts for company."

 

Slowly Tigress turned her head from where she'd been inspecting the cliff face—where, to judge from her calculating expression, she'd been gauging and assessing the ridges and cracks of its surface for handholds she could use to scale it and go for help, or at least a rope. Her face was quite blank and unthreatening, if not exactly welcoming. "If we truly hated you, Commander, we would have slit your throat by now. Or shoved you off the ledge."

 

Which was true. And while Tai Lung was not, perhaps, in a condition or position to do such a thing, the striped feline was…yet the ex-convict had a feeling why she hadn't, the same reason he hadn't tried it anyway, injuries be damned. Because ever since they had landed on the ledge, something about the rhino had been different.

 

For one thing, he'd stayed silent the whole time Tigress was tending to the snow leopard, not making any snide or cutting remarks, and while that could have been explained away by the agony Vachir had to be in, whenever either of them had looked in the warden's direction, they had seen a surprisingly introspective, regretful, saddened look on his usually brutish face. At several points he had even seemed concerned as to whether Tai Lung would make it, judging by how intently he'd been watching the blood-soaked cloth be tied into place.

 

It had gotten to the point that, despite everything, the snow leopard had wondered if it might have been appropriate, or at least more humane, to remove the _dao_ saber from his stomach rather than leave it sticking out so ignominiously. But as Tigress had softly pointed out to him, even if they were positive that Vachir would not suddenly have a relapse, his body healing as he attacked them anew, the simple fact was a sword did much more damage than a dagger did—at least when comparing where the two males had been stabbed. To remove it would threaten more damage still, and even if she were to rip up all her garments completely, there would likely not be enough to staunch the flow.

 

And without Mantis here to stitch the wounds, as well as no way to determine the extent of his internal injuries, it was best to leave matters as they were. In any event…the rhino was most likely dying, and nothing could change that.

 

Regardless, even though it seemed impossible to believe, after the hatred and desire for vengeance which had burned in his heart such a short time ago, Tai Lung found, as he looked at Vachir through slitted lids, that he was actually bothered by the fact of his imminent demise. Because all he had seen in their admittedly short time on the ledge, as well as the way he'd reacted up on the pinnacle, told the snow leopard that this was not the same man who had tried to kill him, and had killed all those innocent people. It might not even be the same man who had tortured him for two decades.

 

His thoughts were interrupted when the rhino, who finally seemed to have accepted Tigress's words as the truth, sighed and looked away. "Well, that's real kind of ya." Despite a certain wryness to his tone, he actually sounded as if he meant it. "I know I don't deserve it, but…thanks. For that, and for what ya did up there."

 

Tigress's brow quirked, and from her expression she clearly thought Vachir had gone, or was still, mad. "For what? Killing you?"

 

"No. Freeing me."

 

The leader of the Five seemed unsure what to say to that, but Tai Lung stared at the rhino in disbelief, confusion…and at last, understanding. For the longer he thought about it…the randomness and unexpected cruelty of his slaughter of so many innocents, the strange way he'd been acting ever since they met again, how he had seemed at war with something within his own head, the change in his eyes and voice after he was impaled, and above all the dark _chi_ …it all seemed to make a twisted, if mystical, sense.

 

He _hadn't_ been acting of his own free will…the _chi_ wizard had indeed been manipulating him, apparently the same way he'd been doing to Monkey for so long, right under their noses. Not that this meant he forgave Vachir for anything he'd done, especially the years of torture. But he did understand…and it made him pity the commander, even as it chilled his blood anew and made him worry how deeply this influence had run, and what more might lie in store for them.

 

Sitting up with an uncomfortable cough and clearing of his throat, he eyed his former enemy—though just what Vachir was to him now, he hadn't a clue—and said, softly, "How did it happen? How was he able to control you? And just who is he, anyway? Anything you can tell us would be appreciated."

 

For a few moments, he thought the rhino wouldn't answer him, though whether out of the same knee-jerk resentment and stubborn hatred there had always been between them or because he was too afraid and appalled to describe what had been done to him wasn't clear. Then, even as Tigress was looking at Tai Lung very oddly and suspiciously for his far-too-knowledgeable questions, Vachir finally looked up and began to speak in a sullen mutter.

 

"I ain't gonna tell you how he did it. It's too damn sick, I don't wanna think about it no more…and while I'm gonna be punished enough for what I did as it is, I don't need any more during my last moments, you know? But I will say…he knows just how to twist you. Make anything seem reasonable and right, like somethin' ya would've chosen to do on your own. That's what scares me, and makes me hate myself, the most. That even though all the shit I did, I wouldn't have done if he hadn't made me…he also couldn't have done that if some part of me, deep down, hadn't wanted to. Or at least, been capable of it.

 

"He used everything bad about me, every bit of darkness and hate and rage inside me, to make me do what he wanted. I don't know how he did it…something to do with my _chi_. I was just a puppet to him, someone he could ride around in, someone to take the blame for all his evil." Vachir shook his head, the heated fury that had started to rise in his voice sinking back into sorrow and despair, leaving his words husky and barely audible. "I wanted to make you pay for killin' my family, for humiliating me, and he turned that into something terrible. I thought I was gettin' justice, huntin' you down and makin' sure you didn't hurt anybody else ever again…but I wasn't. I was just too damn proud…and I let him make me into something just as awful as you ever were."

 

Pausing for so long that Tai Lung thought he'd fallen silent permanently and had nothing more to say, the warden at last added, almost as an afterthought, "Don't know who he is either, where he came from or anything. All I know is his name's Chao, Heian Chao. And I kinda got the impression he's known about you for a long time. Like, that he'd been hangin' around Chorh-Gom for years, watchin' ya, with no one even knowin' he was there." Somehow he managed to tinge his disquiet at this information with the sort of annoyed grumble that had always accompanied any laxity in his security, or the implication that it was substandard and could be breached.

 

The snow leopard snorted derisively, recognizing the name's meaning at once and finding it utterly preposterous, pretentious, and just plain lacking in imagination. Yet at the same time, he couldn't deny part of him felt his chill settle in bone-deep…because with all he had seen this villain do, and if everything Oogway had told him about the _chi_ wizard was true—or even more distressingly, had barely scratched the surface of his powers and immorality—he had the feeling someone who called himself 'the Great Dark One' might just actually live up to the sobriquet.

 

"So that is his name," he said at last, and even though it was almost the same words he'd used when he'd first learned the Dragon Warrior's identity, the way he said it could not be more different—not cocky, smug, or self-congratulatory, but resigned, matter-of-fact, and grim. "Heian Chao…"

 

Vachir flicked one ear, then ventured to say, "You…don't sound surprised."

 

"I'm not," Tai Lung admitted. He cast a sidelong glance at Tigress, knowing she would not be happy to hear this—or rather, hear it now instead of two months ago when it might have prevented a great deal of heartache and discord. But now was quite a good a time to reveal it…especially since, with the fading of the angry and destructive thoughts he'd been harboring ever since receiving Zeng's message at Wu Dan, he could finally remember and impart what needed to be shared. What, in an ugly suspicion which he was certain was quite true, he had been actively encouraged to put from his mind or even forget until this very moment. "I already knew about him, or had heard of him. Oogway told me."

 

As he'd expected, Tigress stiffened and glared at him in consternation and aspersion. " _What_? You knew, all this time, and said nothing? It didn't occur to you to mention, 'Oh, by the way, just thought you should know there's a madman out there who can possess people and make them do whatever he feels like'? Or did it just slip your mind?" She crossed her arms severely and slumped back against the cliff face, looking bitter and resentful. "So you haven't changed _that_ much."

 

Only because he didn't blame her for being annoyed—he was too, at himself as well as this Chao, even though he knew which of them was more at fault—was Tai Lung able to keep from lashing out at her. Well, that and because he was far too tired and in pain to muster up the gumption for it. And because he loved her. "Actually," he said, dryly, "it _did_ slip my mind. Another little gift from our heretofore unseen enemy, it seems. I wanted to tell you, but somehow it always seemed…unimportant, or irrelevant, or I just plain forgot all about it. It was never the right time or place, or something else took precedence."

 

He sighed heavily. "That was just what he wanted me to think, I suppose. I'm sorry…in any case, yes…Oogway told me about him, though not his name or that he could do something like—this." And slowly, haltingly at first but with a gradually greater confidence and determination, he explained what the turtle had imparted to him beneath the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom the night of the full moon.

 

By the time he had finished, Tigress was no longer angry, but deeply troubled and upset—as well she should be. It wasn't every day you learned a creature existed that could make your own life force turn against you, twist you into a dark and sadistic caricature of yourself, and corrupt you into something so repugnant and hateful you would do things you never imagined, things you thought outside your moral code, to gain what you secretly craved. And while he knew how imperative it was that she, and eventually the others, learn all of this and prepare for whatever the _chi_ wizard would try next (for he knew there would be another plot of some sort as well as he did the sun rose in the east), he couldn't help regretting it a little.

 

For watching her shoulders sag and her expression become more despondent and helpless than he'd ever seen it, the snow leopard longed to hold her close and tell her it would all be all right, somehow. But just as he could not hide the truth from her, he could not say such a thing…for while he believed, in his heart of hearts, that they could win, he still had not the faintest idea how.

 

Finally, after Tai Lung had trailed off and the ledge had fallen completely silent for several long minutes, Vachir suddenly spoke up again, his tone even more subdued and his voice fainter—each word lingered over as if he had to consider it carefully before saying it…or as if it took every ounce of his waning strength to speak at all. "Damn. That…makes a helluva lotta sense. Wish I'd known stuff like that was possible, a little forewarning might've gone a long way." He paused meaningfully. "Wish Oogway'd come to me…could've spared a lotta people's lives."

 

After a moment, Tigress ventured to reply. "Maybe he couldn't; from what Tai Lung has said, this Chao's power seems great enough that Master Oogway could, at best, only hold it at bay for a while. Maybe he was afraid to come to you while you were so close to Chao." She glanced sidelong at the snow leopard, and he felt his heart beat a little faster in spite of himself as she smiled with surprising fondness. "Or maybe he decided to work through Tai Lung to stop you…and save you."

 

Vachir snorted, still refusing to look at either of them as he sank deeper and deeper into a morose but entirely justified self-pity. "Or maybe he forgot about me, or didn't even care. And why should he? I…I don't deserve to be saved. Everything that's happened to me, I've had comin' for a long time now, after all I've done."

 

Tai Lung glanced uneasily at Tigress; in all honesty he couldn't dispute this claim, yet somehow he felt uncomfortable just allowing it to pass without remark. Perhaps because he knew, with a sinking sensation, just how well it mirrored his own thoughts since returning to Chorh-Gom, how these words could just as easily have been said by himself. And the rhino was acting so unusually now, like a completely different person, that he found he couldn't hate him as strongly, or at least as easily, as he had for so many years. Most tellingly of all, never once in the twenty years of his imprisonment had he known Vachir to show regret or remorse for anything he had done.

 

Even if he only spoke of the acts to which Chao had manipulated and driven him, this was still such a marked contrast, such a vast improvement over his old arrogant, overbearing self, that it forced the snow leopard to look at him in a new light. "Er…that's not entirely true, you know. You didn't…mean to do any of the things you did. It wasn't your fault."

 

Growling under his breath, the rhino finally looked at him directly, to shoot him a fiery glare. "Shut up. You don't know what you're talkin' about. It don't matter I didn't mean to, I still did it. I killed so damn many people…lost count at fifty, wouldn't be surprised if it was a hundred or more. They were all innocent, none of 'em did anything wrong, none of 'em ever hurt me or anyone I cared about. But they all died—horribly, cruelly, worse than anything I've ever seen. And I've fought in wars you wouldn't believe.

 

"D'you have any _idea_ what it's like, to watch all those people die in front of you, and not have any way to stop it? To know they're dead because of you, even though you never wanted it that way? To know all those families out there have lost parents, kids, brothers and sisters, and they're never gonna get 'em back, never see 'em again in this life, and it's all because of _you_?"

 

Very softly, the spotted feline said, "Yes. As a matter of fact…I do."

 

Even though his words were spoken so quietly, the rhino still heard them since there was no other sound in the chasm—even the wind had died to nothing. He stared, stricken, at his former prisoner as if he'd forgotten just who he was talking to…or had never once considered the ex-convict might have felt this way. At last he spoke again, and though he barely acknowledged Tai Lung's words, his shaky voice and slight trembling revealed just how much they had truly affected him.

 

"Yeah, well…it's more'n that, too. It wasn't my choice to kill those people…but it _was_ my choice to get taken over by that monster. He caught me here, held me, tortured me, yeah—but in the end it was still my decision to make, I still let him in, 'cause I was so dead-set on gettin' revenge, makin' you pay. And I have to live with that." He snorted. "For a little while longer, anyway."

 

Before the snow leopard could reply, Vachir went on with conviction and sorrow in his voice. "Anyway…I wasn't just talkin' about what I've been doin' the last few months. I also meant what I was doin' the last twenty years." He closed his eyes, took a deep breath (even though it clearly pained him to do so), then met Tai Lung's gaze unwaveringly. "I thought I was makin' ya see the light. I thought I could change ya. Barrin' that, I thought maybe I could make ya hurt as much as ya hurt me, and everyone else in the Valley. But I was wrong. I went too far. And I'm sorry."

 

It could never make up for all those years of abuse. There was no possible way that two simple little words could possibly change anything. As Vachir himself had said in the guardroom before this all began, the wounds would always be there, and an apology truly meant nothing in the end; it was yet another reason why he had not immediately backed down, ceased fighting, and reconciled with Shifu during their conflict in the Hall of Warriors. Actions were what mattered, as Xiulan had said at the Ghost Festival; actions were how one was judged, by the gods as well as his fellow man, and while the snow leopard could still use them to try and make amends, it was too late for Vachir.

 

That wasn't the point though, Tai Lung realized with mingled discomfort and sympathy. The point of forgiveness, as Viper had stated, was to ease the mind of the one who had done wrong…and to help the one who had been wronged move on, to cease dwelling on the hate and anger that were poisoning their heart. What good would it do him to continue resenting the rhino for what he had done—especially when, on some level, he still believed at least some of it was justified? Holding on to this grudge would only hurt him in the end; Vachir would be gone, but thanks to this lingering hatred, Tai Lung himself would never truly be free.

 

Though no longer held by chains and a tortoise shell restraint, he would forever be a prisoner of his unrequited vengeance and his never-ending wrath. The only one he would be hurting _would_ be himself. Not to mention, if he refused to grant Vachir the same courtesy he himself wanted from the Valley, he would be an incredible hypocrite. Why should anyone forgive him, if he also could not forgive…especially when the crimes in question were almost identical?

 

Beside him, Tigress stirred, and when she spoke her own tone was apologetic and conciliatory, even reassuring. "That is…very kind of you to say, Commander. All things considered. But if what you say is true—if this Chao held you here, and was able to gain such power over you, and had been observing Tai Lung too for some time…well, I am not as in tune with matters of _chi_ as I probably should be…but even I can feel there is something wrong with Chorh-Gom. And from what Tai Lung has said, Oogway believes this…thing…gains power from the pain, anger, and hatred of others. That it feeds off of our worst thoughts and emotions."

 

Unsurprisingly, her tone now sounded sickened and disgusted. "So he may have been here far longer than either of you realized. Getting off on Tai Lung's insanity and suffering, and your need for vengeance, and both of your hatred. In which case…you were probably encouraged to do what you did, just as he was encouraged to come back to the Valley for the scroll should he ever escape. Chao certainly seemed to be making all of us argue…and he probably encouraged me to go chasing after the Wu Sisters, too."

 

Tai Lung stared at her, stunned even more speechless, as the possibility that his unknown enemy could have been watching, twisting, and using him in such a way, and for that long, had never even occurred to him. If it was true…it would explain why Oogway was so determined to believe he was meant to finish Chao. And if it was true, it meant he hated Chao more than he ever had anyone else in his life…because if he followed this theory to its logical conclusion, why, the _chi_ wizard could have been manipulating and twisting him for his entire life. He could be responsible for everything negative, unfair, and terrible Tai Lung had ever experienced...or caused—the ruin his life had become could be laid at Chao's feet. In which case…

 

Even as thoughts of bloody, rampaging revenge—always familiar and even somehow comforting to him, yet now directed at one who was truly evil, who truly deserved his hatred and his very real intention to eviscerate—ran through his mind, the rhino rumbled deep and furiously in his chest, even managing to sit up and lean toward Tigress with righteous rage burning in his dark eyes. "Damn it, don't you _dare_ make excuses for me! I ain't gonna have you cheapen all those people's deaths, or the terrible shit I did to Tai Lung, by pretendin' I was just mind-controlled or somethin'! Maybe Chao influenced me, maybe he made it more likely I'd pull this crap than I would've otherwise. But _I_ was still the one who did it. I hated every moment of killin' those people, especially the kids. But I actually _enjoyed_ what I did to Tai Lung."

 

He shuddered, though whether because he actually felt sick at admitting this or because he was about to cough up blood again wasn't clear; he did end up doing the latter, but the snow leopard had the feeling it was more. "I'm sorry I did it…it was pointless, it was dirty, and it was damn stupid since it didn't get me anything and just made him hate me even more. And maybe I was a little crazy and out of my mind…prison'll do that to ya, even if you're just the warden. But it was still me. So don't…don't try and cover it up, girl. I know what I did... Your friend, Viper? She was right. No matter how far or fast I ran, the past was always gonna catch up with me. Now it has…but I'm the only victim of it. And I'm gonna pay for it."

 

Once again, the snow leopard had to backtrack, chagrined as he listened to Vachir's tirade. Not that he'd had any intention of trying to excuse his own actions, during the rampage or his return to the Valley twenty years later, with Chao's dark sorcery; but he had to admit, secretly, he'd begun to feel a slight relief knowing that perhaps what happened had not all been his own fault, that not all of the cruelty, malice, and bloodthirsty violence of his actions had been found within his soul.

 

Yet the rhino's words reminded him, painfully and vividly, that even if Chao were responsible for inflaming his temper, maddening his mind, and driving him to such insane actions when he was denied his heart's desire…that temper, that desire, and that propensity for violence and killing were still his, still an indelible part of him. He could not ignore them or pretend they weren't there, he would always have to be on guard against them, controlling them, even if there weren't a _chi_ wizard out there unbalancing them.

 

Still…the fact Chao may have had any part in that at all—perhaps, for example, pushing him into the unconscionable act of trying to murder his own father which he swore he could never have done otherwise—justified destroying him if nothing else did. And there were plenty of good, solid reasons to do so anyway…now, however, it had become personal.

 

Looking up and regarding Vachir with new eyes—for the first time seeing that, like himself and Tigress, he and the rhino were not that different after all—Tai Lung caught a glimpse of fear in the rhino's own gaze…as if he expected the snow leopard, even injured as he was, to suddenly launch at him and beat him to a pulp now that it was clear he was still responsible for his actions. Thinking back on all the times he had seen fear in the commander's eyes when he looked at his prisoner, he began to understand…he had, after all, rightly called Vachir a bully. And all bullies acted out of either fear or insecurity.

 

Whatever else could be said about the leader of the Anvil of Heaven, Vachir was not insecure in his talents or skills, nor should he be—he had proven himself a phenomenal fighter. Which left only the fear…the rhino had _always_ been afraid of him, he saw now. And while on some level that privately pleased him, the rest of him knew how easy it was for fear to turn into aggression and hatred…how wrong it was to promote such feelings. That was not the way of the kung fu warrior, who was to be respected, not feared. It was not honorable. The honorable thing, of course, was…

 

He took a deep breath (which, like Vachir, also pained him greatly thanks to his wounded side), swallowed hard, and then forced a tight, if grim, smile. "You probably will, Vachir. But you aren't the only one. I, too, have a lot to answer for when I go before the gods. I'm going to do my damnedest to do the right thing from now on—to do what I can to wipe my slate, if not clean, then at least make it less cluttered. It's the only way to bring balance back to my life, and make sure nothing like this ever happens again. I think, though…you just took a major step toward doing the same thing. Maybe you won't have to worry about your judgment as much as you think." He sighed. "Because…well, I know it may be hard to believe, but…I forgive you."

 

It felt as if a fist had been plunged into his chest, clenched tightly around his heart, and was only now letting go. He couldn't believe how good it felt, saying three such simple little words. Part of it, perhaps, was knowing that he would never be locked away in Chorh-Gom again, that Vachir could not torture him anymore, and would soon be gone from this world anyway. But it seemed more than that…letting go of the grudge he had held for so long, the hatred and contempt and murderous impulses, even his own buried fear—it made him feel so light and free, more than he had since Mantis's acupuncture session or when he accepted Shifu's offer to stay at the Jade Palace.

 

If it weren't for his injuries, he would feel he could do anything. A whole world of possibilities seemed to lie open before him, and it didn't matter somehow that Chao and the Wu Sisters were still out there. He would defeat them, he would find his place, and he would start a new life with Tigress. It all shone so brightly in his mind…because it was no longer haunted and dragged down by the anchors of despair and resentment. Suddenly, that old adage that 'the truth will set you free' didn't seem so laughable or worthless anymore…

 

Yet again, Tai Lung looked at Vachir, who seemed to have become a granite statue, his breath caught in his throat at hearing such words from his old enemy. Then he shrugged a little and actually nerved himself to reach over and clasp that callused hand. "What can I say…it's a shame, really. You and I are more alike than I ever realized. If things had turned out differently, we might have been friends."

 

Over his shoulder he heard Tigress snort in veiled amusement at the notion, but somehow the rhino didn't seem to agree, although he did look embarrassed and pained, as if what Tai Lung had said had been like…well, being impaled in the gut. Or perhaps that was his injury responsible. "Maybe. We'll never know, now. But if ya really think that way, then there's one thing I gotta ask ya, as a friend."

 

"Yes?" The snow leopard forced his voice to be light, even as he wondered what the rhino's request would be. He didn't have any family or loved ones left—thanks to Tai Lung himself—so it couldn't be to take care of them or pass them a message…

 

"Kill me."

 

Tigress choked. " _What_?"

 

"You heard me." Leaning back weakly against the wall again, Vachir set his jaw in determination. "I know, I ain't gonna last long anyway. But if it's all the same to you, I don't wanna have to go on like this any longer than I have to. I know I don't deserve that, but well…please? I just…I want the pain to stop." The anguish on his face and in his voice changed to fear yet again. "Besides…I…I'm afraid of what might happen. What if…what if Chao comes back and tries to take me again? What if I ain't strong enough to hold him off? He'd heal me…and then I'd be out there killin' again. Chasin' after you. Carryin' out that bastard's will 'til he felt like gettin' rid of me. 'Cept if he doesn't…he might just make me serve him, and live inside me, forever."

 

His voice was even fainter now, and his leathery skin all the more ashen—and it wasn't all due to his blood loss and constant agony. "I…I couldn't face that. I…now I know what it musta been like for you, Tai Lung. Bein' locked up like that for twenty years. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. And I know you wouldn't either. So…since we ain't enemies anymore…"

 

Tai Lung sat back a moment; he should have realized, really. And completely aside from the fact he didn't want Heian Chao to continue to have access to such power and capacity for darkness, Vachir was right. He didn't want this. The old Tai Lung would have had no problem killing the rhino outright, only as bloodily and maliciously as possible—not something gentle and dignified as this would be. Or else, if he'd been able to think clearly instead of being directed by mindless rage and ruthlessness, the snow leopard might have deliberately let Vachir live…just so he'd be tormented forever with what he had done to all those innocents, so he would always be living in fear of Chao coming back for him.

 

But Tai Lung could not do that to him, not now. Not after learning why Vachir had done what he did, that he in turn was willing to bury the hatchet and finally end their vendetta. Not if he truly meant his own conversion from villain to hero, from a creature of bloodlust, amorality, and heinous atrocity to a noble and honorable kung fu warrior. It was the right thing to do, the merciful thing. It was what Oogway would want.

 

"All right," he said, softly. "Tigress, help me with him, would you?"

 

A stricken and slightly nauseous look on her striped face, the leader of the Furious Five nevertheless slid across the ledge to the rhino's other side. And as she held him in her arms—something Tai Lung, with his still sore and throbbing shoulder, could not do—while carefully avoiding the saber still protruding from his abdomen, the snow leopard picked up the dagger Monkey had used to stab him with from where it had been discarded. Somehow it seemed fitting, and there really wasn't any other way to accomplish the deed, since Vachir's flesh was still too thick and tough to be truly damaged much by claws alone.

 

He was about to bring the blade to bear when Vachir grasped his wrist. His voice was stronger, firmer, a growl of fervent intensity. "Promise me, Tai Lung…promise me you'll make that fucking bastard pay for what he made me do…for what he's done to you, to all of us."

 

Despite the situation, Tai Lung chuckled, albeit humorlessly. "Don't worry about that, Commander. I guarantee he's going down if I have anything to say about it."

 

"Good." He fell back again into Tigress's arms, the fire leaving his eyes to be replaced by a mournful cast. "It's too bad I won't get to see it, though…and that no one's gonna know what happened, or care. Master Crane was right. No matter what happens to Chao, everyone's gonna remember and hate me as a monster. Gods…Flying Rhino's my ancestor, Thundering Rhino's my uncle, but now my whole family name's gonna be worth shit…"

 

He sounded so distressed, Tai Lung was compelled to say it; after having not known of his family his entire life, only to then contemplate what they would think of him now should they know of his many depraved acts, he knew exactly how the rhino felt. "That's where you're wrong. They will know, and your ancestors won't have any reason to be ashamed. I'll tell them all, Thundering Rhino too…I'll make sure they know who you used to be, what you did…and that when you died, you died as yourself, a free man." He licked his lips. "A hero."

 

"Me too," Tigress murmured.

 

Vachir actually smiled at that, a grin that somehow made his face seem less ugly. "Thanks…I'd like that. Give 'em hell for me, Tai."

 

Before he could hesitate any further, Tai Lung brought the knife down across the rhino's throat. There was a sudden upwelling of thick, copious blood…the commander gasped, choked, and shuddered for a few moments more…and then at last was still.

 

Afterward, when she had gently laid Vachir's body down and wiped her paws clean of blood on her now-tattered trousers, Tigress turned and looked at the snow leopard soberly for several long moments. Then, as she slid back along the ledge, this time to sit down beside Tai Lung, wrap her arms around her legs, and rest her chin on her knees, she said, "That was a noble and brave thing you did."

 

"What, you mean making sure he didn't come back to haunt us, literally?" The sardonic note in his voice couldn't hide the depth of emotion in it…the uncertainty, distress, and pain.

 

Tigress wasn't fooled, even if she too couldn't resist a slight lift of an eyebrow. "That, and forgiving him. He was dying anyway, it didn't really matter…but you gave him peace. I…I don't think I could have done that."

 

Tai Lung shrugged, trying to dismiss it even though he couldn't, didn't think he could ever forget what had happened here and what Vachir had said. "It mattered to him. And to me. Now he can rest…and so can I. In case you hadn't noticed, hating and plotting vengeance take a lot out of you."

 

"Touché."

 

Again, silence descended on the ledge. Trying not to be conscious of the rhino's body, the snow leopard first peered upward into the darkness high above them, wondering once again where Shifu and the rest of the Five were. Surely the loss of all that dark _chi_ , and now Vachir's death, would have eliminated the zombies. What could be keeping them? Had there been injuries he wasn't aware of?

 

He was still staring at nothing, this time out into the yawning void before them, when Tigress suddenly spoke again, startling him. "By the way, thank you."

 

"Er…you already did, Tigress."

 

"Not for taking the dagger for me. For catching me when the pinnacle fell." She paused, then turned to look at him, her eyes glowing almost as golden as his in the darkness. "That's twice now you've saved my life."

 

Feeling somehow uncomfortable at this bold directness despite it being Tigress's usual attitude, he rubbed at the back of his neck with his good paw. As he had hoped what seemed a lifetime ago during their first trip to the village, she had given him the chance to rescue her, to show he cared and perform a brave deed…but somehow, with the danger this had put both of them in, he couldn't really feel good about it. "Right, but really, who's counting?"

 

Tigress gave him a level look. "Well I am, obviously. And for a very good reason…because now I know, I can trust you." He couldn't tell how she felt about this, she seemed torn between relief and worry. "You really do love me, don't you?"

 

It was a very odd thing to be discussing so soon after ending their former adversary's life, let alone the climactic battle that had preceded this, but he thought he understood. Completely aside from the still fresh memories of their lovemaking and what it meant for their relationship, how close both of them had come to death—well, it tended to make one think of the future, and to re-examine emotions, preconceptions, and choices in other ways. And he knew that whatever happened next, hearing Tigress accept this…and knowing for certain in his heart that it was true…made him happier and more content than he had any right to be. _Yin and Yang. Light and dark. Loss and gain. One chapter of life ends, and another begins. Got to have something to fight for, to believe in._

 

"What do you think?" he said at last, smirking at her openly.

 

For once, she actually laughed, even as she punched him—gently, playfully—in his good arm. "I'm serious! It's…nice to see you acting like this, instead of just talking about it. It…really puts everything in perspective, doesn't it?" When all he could do was nod, his heart in his throat, she continued, "Well in that case, I just have one question for you, Tai Lung. One I've been wanting to know the answer to for a long time."

 

"Ask away." _'Can we have sex again?' 'Will you marry me?' 'How are we going to keep Shifu from finding out and skinning the both of us?'_

 

"When did you first know you loved me? When did you first start falling for me?" For a wonder, she sounded shy and embarrassed, even coquettishly teasing, although he did detect a note of serious interest in her voice.

 

Before he could restrain himself, he blurted out the truth. "When I first laid eyes on you at the Thread of Hope."

 

There was a long pause. When he finally dared to turn and look at her, the striped feline was gazing stoically off into space; slowly, she turned and looked back at him, and he didn't know whether she was going to slap him, burst out laughing, or groan in despair. "You mean, when I was kicking your ass?"

 

Well, when she put it that way, it did sound rather ridiculous. "What do you want? I'm still new at this courting thing," he grumbled, flushing furiously.

 

"I never would have guessed," Tigress smirked. "I suppose this means you like your women like you do your tea—strong and hot?"

_Oh, you are **so** paying for that one later when I'm well_. "Would you rather I said you were poetry in motion, a warrior goddess with no equal or peer?"

 

"Only if it's true. And you do say the nicest things." She giggled; Master Tigress, the leader of the Furious Five, actually giggled. He felt like feeling her forehead for a fever.

 

"Well, I can't deny you were amazing. As I told you before, I've never seen anyone fight as well or as flawlessly as you. Not to mention how good you were at leadership and teamwork. If slamming into the cliff hadn't loosened that rope binding me, so I could slip free, I'd probably still be dangling there."

 

"I always wondered how you did that. You mean you didn't just flex and snap free?" Tigress smirked wryly.

 

"I'd only do _that_ , my dear, if you were there to see it." He winked with exaggerated care.

 

"Mmm, I'll have to make sure to bring the rope next time, then."

 

"My, you're kinkier than I thought."

 

"And you really _are_ a dirty old man!" Somehow, though, she didn't sound put off by this prospect.

 

"Oh, don't pretend you didn't notice how I was showing off for you."

 

"You mean when you were using the Thread of Hope as a lounge chair? Or when you decided to demonstrate your secondary vocation as an acrobat?" Tigress pursed her lips disapprovingly, but seemed on the verge of giggling again.

 

"Either." He crossed his arms, disgruntled and vaguely annoyed. "And you're one to talk about feline balance."

 

They looked at each for a few moments, and then burst out laughing.

 

After the last snicker was quieted, and Tai Lung had managed to quell the extremely ruddy blush in his cheeks, he finally turned and took Tigress's paw in his, gazing deeply into her eyes. "Seriously…there's a lot of things, little things, that made me care for you, and fall for you. I could never pinpoint them all. But I think when I first knew what it was, more than just lust or infatuation, was when we _raised_ the Thread of Hope. If not for Crane, I would've died then…and once I got my wits about me, it all hit me at once. How close I came to losing everything…and at the same time, how little there was for me _to_ lose, because my life was so empty and worthless." He squeezed her paw. "Or it was, until you came into it."

 

It was corny, but it was also the absolute truth, how he really felt. And he could tell she knew it from the rush of warmth radiating off her cheeks and the bright sparkles in her eyes. "Damn…how did you turn into a romantic when I wasn't looking?"

 

"Er…when Viper started giving me advice?" he admitted.

 

For a moment he thought he had mis-stepped again, and she was about to launch into a snarling, venomous assault. But after a brief pause, she only shook her head and smiled sadly. "Then I suppose I owe her one. And what did she tell you?"

 

Deciding not to take any more chances, he chose to leave out all of the serpent's rather revealing tips (as well as the fact he would never have known to go to Viper if not for Mantis—for he was certain the absolutely last person Tigress would want to learn knew about this romance was the insect). "To speak from my heart."

 

Tigress smiled. "Well, she was right."

 

"What about you?" he asked after another moment, this one filled with the sense of companionship and genuine affection.

 

"Hmm?"

 

"When did you first start to love me?"

 

He expected her to take a long time in answering, but she said almost immediately, "I suppose when we placed our lanterns at the Ghost Festival. But I really had wanted you, and had been falling for you, for a long time. I was simply fighting it."

 

Tai Lung knew he shouldn't, but he was compelled to ask anyway since, unsurprisingly, it bothered him not knowing. "Er…and why was that? I mean, aside from the whole 'murderous slayer of the Valley and epitome of all evil' bit?"

 

It seemed as if she had decided not to speak, either out of resentment for him dredging up the past or because she would rather sit silently and enjoy the closeness of his body heat on the cold ledge. But then finally, softly, she said, "You remember what I told you in your cell? About what you got that I didn't?" When he nodded, not trusting himself to speak, she sighed and peered up at him—sadness and bitterness in her eyes, as if worried even now he might reject her even as part of her still wished to reject him.

 

"Well, it was more than you knew. You mastered all the scrolls, and I didn't. Po started hero-worshiping you, and forgot all about me. And you didn't just get Shifu's love when I didn't…he gave you a second chance, you reconciled…and when you did, he and you were closer than ever. I didn't want to love you…because I thought you would keep hurting me, taking what I had and trampling on it, or just plain denying me the chance to have it too."

 

He stared at her in disbelief, solemn and with increasing anguish, as he watched her narrow shoulders slump and shake, her down-turned face begin to soak with the tears leaking from her closed eyes. He'd known her life was rough, and that she was as hard on herself as he was. But he'd had no idea Tigress was so vulnerable behind her fierce façade. That she had lost or been denied so much. Or that it had all been taken by him, or could be interpreted that way.

_No wonder…she must have seen me, not just as a destructive demon, but a symbol of every ill and loss she ever suffered. That I was the one always standing in the way of her happiness_. With that being the case, how could she indeed bring herself to believe he could love her, and bring her happiness instead? Not a heartless monster and thief like him…

 

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled and choked by her tears, sounding like a little girl's. "I know it's not your fault, not really. You didn't ask to be adopted by Master Shifu. And you certainly didn't take my parents away. But…there are times, when I see the way he looks at you, the way he's never looked at me—at least, not that I ever saw…" She turned away. "It's so hard. All I ever wanted was his love…it doesn't seem fair that you had it, lost it, and got it back…and there was never any time in there for me, a moment when I could get even a little piece of it…"

 

Instinctively he reached out and wrapped his good arm around her, drawing her in close and gentle—as much because of his knife wound as to comfort her. Surprisingly, she did not resist. Stroking the backs of his fingers against her cheek fur, he murmured, "Tigress, I…I really think you're wrong about this. I'm no expert on love or anything, far from it. But I do know Shifu, probably better than anyone except his master did. It's always been hard for him to express his feelings—that's the same place I get it from. Even when he raised me, when he wasn't so harsh and withdrawn, he would blow hot and cold.

 

"He could be playing a game of hide-and-seek with me one moment, only to turn around and smack me with his staff when I misbehaved. He gave me all manner of cute little gifts and trinkets when I was a cub—for the longest time I had a stuffed tiger I carried with me everywhere—but when I got hurt in the kwoon, he'd withhold any medicine until he was sure my 'lesson' had sunk in." Even thinking about it this long after the fact made Tai Lung coldly furious…yet also desperately puzzled. What kind of upbringing could Shifu have had to make him turn out like this? Or was it just more of the typical Chinese attitude toward fatherhood?

 

"The point is," he said, after she had sniffled and wiped her nose unobtrusively, "just because he can act like, and even be, quite the callous old git, doesn't mean he doesn't love you. Or that he stopped, just because I came back into his life again. I used to think he didn't love me either, or that he never would again. I was wrong."

 

"You really think so?" Tigress peered up at him beseechingly, for a moment looking so lost and forlorn that he didn't know whether to embrace her as tightly as he deemed safe or wait for the right chance to deck Shifu in retaliation for causing all this.

 

"I know so." He paused, trying to think how best to put it so she would understand. _I never thought I'd be wondering this, but what would Oogway say?_ Somewhat lamely, he finally said, "It's…well, love isn't a finite thing, it's a pool everyone can drink from that never runs out. Or…something like that. So, um, look at your life as a glass half-full of love?"

 

Even as Tigress was staring at him incredulously, and he wanted to sink into the ledge, he hurried on to smooth over the awkwardness. "What I mean is, Shifu can love both of us equally, he doesn't have to sacrifice one or the other." Taking her chin in his fingers, he lifted it up so he could bring their muzzles close. "You have just as much love in your life as I do…"

 

"I hope you're right," she breathed, and leaned in to bring her lips to his.

 

Just as they were about to kiss, however, there came the sudden sound of flapping wings and rustling feathers, and then a familiar voice called out from the darkness above them. "Hey, everyone! They're all right, I found them!"

 

Flinching away from him guiltily, Tigress sat up ramrod straight on the ledge, then got to her feet and adopted as proud and dignified a posture as she could muster when her clothes were in such ragged condition. Cursing to himself at another opportunity missed, Tai Lung yet could not fault Crane's arrival (only his timing)…he did, after all, very much want to be rescued and to get out of Chorh-Gom once and for all.

 

Looking up, he spied the avian kung fu master winging about in circles over their heads, apparently allowing sharper eyes to home in on them—for soon enough a thick and sturdy rope dropped out of the shadows to land on the rock beside them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Even with one shoulder injured, he would have no problem lifting himself with one arm alone to climb out of the chasm—and of course there was Tigress to assist him as well.

 

As the others began arriving, however, for a moment he had to regret the rescue for a whole new reason—because first to slide down the rope was the coiled form of Viper. And as soon as she had reached the safety of the ledge, the serpent was immediately slithering toward him as if her scales were greased, sliding up his body to give him a rough and very constrictive embrace. "Oh, thank the gods! We were so worried…we thought…I mean, you fell so far—"

 

Struggling manfully to push her coils away from his chest and throat, the snow leopard gasped and choked as he tried to make his wishes known. "Ack…Viper…precious…kitty can't breathe…"

 

While the serpent disengaged at last and immediately began apologizing profusely, then turned to greet Tigress similarly, Tai Lung noticed Crane settling on the ledge with an air of vindication, seeming rather proud of himself for having found them. The rope jerked and twitched, and then another form came sliding down it, almost as quickly as Viper had—a very small one that landed with all the agility of a man half his age. As Shifu hopped onto the rocky shelf and dusted off his robes, Tigress, who had been conversing quietly with the waterfowl, suddenly froze and went silent, staring at her master and father.

 

The red panda gazed at her silently for what felt like ten minutes but was much less, his expression stoic and unrevealing although his eyes were extraordinarily bright and wet. Finally, his paws clasped at the small of his back, he spoke…and his words seemed such utter nonsense Tai Lung had to wonder if Shifu had hit his head too hard when he was thrown off the pinnacle. "Red, braised fish in soy sauce, and drinking tea."

 

"What?" Tigress looked blank, too.

 

Shifu held up three fingers. "Your favorite color, food, and pastime." He paused, then gave a tiny smile as he winked. "And I last celebrated your birthday when you turned eighteen. Which, as you might recall, was at your insistence that as an adult you didn't need such a thing any more."

 

Even as Tai Lung was marveling at the red panda having recalled all of this the night before, or perhaps this morning, and kept it in the back of his mind until the fighting was over and done with, Tigress gave him an inscrutable look. "Well, it's a start." As the snow leopard caught her eye, however, and gave her a very knowing, suggestive, 'I-told-you-so' smile, he saw a definite brightness and hope in her eyes that had not been there before.

 

After everyone had stared at each other for a few more moments, and Tai Lung noted absently but warily that Monkey had slid down the rope too and now perched in a smaller niche several feet above his head, Crane finally cleared his throat and glanced down at Vachir's body. "So…I take it he…?"

 

"No, he didn't make it," the snow leopard cut in succinctly. "And none of us will either if we don't get out of here and make it back to civilization. So if one of you can call Mantis down here to look at my side and shoulder, we can do just that."

 

If he had thought the ledge was quiet before, it became absolutely tomb-like now. Flicking his gaze from Shifu, whose ears had drooped and whose eyes were now fixed determinedly on the stone in front of him, to Crane, who had doffed his hat in a gesture of profound respect and looked as morose and dejected as he had ever seen the bird, Tai Lung spread his paws, baffled. "What did I say?"

 

"I'm afraid we can't do that," Crane said, very softly. "He's…gone."

 

"Gone?" Tai Lung repeated. "What do you mean, 'gone'?" He peered around the ledge, then up the rope, squinting to catch the tiniest bit of light in the shadows as he forced out a mirthless laugh. "Oh, very funny! Quite the practical joke there, but you can come out now, Mantis…"

 

"It's not a joke," Shifu said slowly, soberly.

 

"Master?" Tigress ventured. "What is it? Did he go on to the surface, to fetch supplies and medicines?"

 

As if she could bear it no more, Viper suddenly burst out, "No! Don't you get it, Tigress? Mantis…Mantis is dead!" Her voice dissolved in a wail as she buried her face in her coils and began to weep.

 

" _What_?"

 

Even as the leader of the Furious Five (or was it the Four now?) rushed to kneel at her friend's side and question her fiercely, Tai Lung whirled and looked at each of the others. On all their faces was the same undeniable look of horror, sorrow, and painful truth. At last, as he recalled the serpent's words on the pinnacle, babbled out just as he was stabbed, and just whom they'd been in relation to, the snow leopard looked up at the alcove above his head.

 

There, the golden langur still sat, crouched and unmoving, neither speaking nor looking at anyone or anything. Only staring off into space with every line of his face turned down in anguish and undeniable pain. When he finally caught Tai Lung looking at him, Monkey could only meet his gaze for one brief, agonized second before he turned away, burying his face in his long-fingered hands…his slender shoulders shaking with his own heaving sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Considering everything, I thought it only fair to give you a slight breather chapter here, with a little humor, some character-building moments, a bit of silliness and flirting, and another bit of progress on the romance front. Hence why I quote _Anastasia_ ("All men are babies") and _Homeward Bound_ ("kitty can't breathe"—yes, I actually found a believable way for Tai to quote Sassy!). It also seemed only fair, after what I put him through and how well I've developed him, that I give Vachir a chance to truly be himself, and to get a decent send-off. 
> 
> I hope no one thinks I copped out on the last cliff-hanger with my explanation for how they all survived the fall; I did, after all, hang a lampshade on the Made of Iron quality all the characters seem to possess, and at least Tai and Vachir have good explanations for why they have such stamina and constitution. Lastly, I couldn't resist referencing _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ again—in many ways Tai Lung is a lot like Season 3 Zuko (hence my shout-out when I had Po note during the fire training that Tai Lung had lost his focus), so to have Tai try to think like Oogway (and fail miserably) is like poor Zuko and Iroh.


	32. Recovery

 

 

They buried Commander Vachir on a snowy mound of a high hill, in the valley at the base of the peak on which Chorh-Gom stood.

 

As the snow leopard still retained his incredible strength, even though one arm remained aching and was best left unused until it had had a chance to fully recover—in fact Crane had tied it in a makeshift sling rather like the one he himself had worn following the Five's encounter with the ex-convict at the Thread of Hope—it had been relatively easy, if slightly slow going, for Tai Lung to pull himself one-handed up the rope from the ledge. And all of the others could easily climb it in the same manner they'd descended, while Tigress was of course uninjured so disappeared into the shadows above with alacrity.

 

Getting Vachir's dead weight up had been a bit more problematic, but before climbing Tai Lung had tied the free end of the rope around the rhino as an anchor—and once they reached the platform high above where the drawbridge had once extended out into the chasm, all of them had worked together to haul on the thick hemp and slowly draw the body up the cliff face. It had been backbreaking, sweaty work, but if anyone had thought about objecting, they had refrained after one look at Tai Lung's face—and, oddly, Tigress's.

 

The simple fact was, the snow leopard told them after the corpse was finally beside them on the platform, he wasn't going to leave Vachir in here to rot, alone and forgotten by the world. For all the torture he had inflicted on his only prisoner, he was still a brave and heroic warrior once—the empire owed him a great deal for its preservation and civilization. And what he had done under the influence of Heian Chao did not change that. He would receive a proper burial before they left for the Valley of Peace, even if the spotted feline had to dig the grave all by himself, and they would simply have to accept that.

 

Somehow, none of them could gainsay him this despite the sheer horror and tragedy they had all experienced inside the prison, feelings and events and memories they would never be able to forget. Perhaps because they too had seen the change in the rhino, there at the end, before he had toppled into the abyss; because once Tai Lung had confessed all he knew of this dark _chi_ wizard, all that Oogway's spirit had told him, everyone realized that Vachir had no more been in possession of all his faculties than Monkey had; or because they knew Tai Lung wouldn't take no for an answer.

 

So each of them had followed silently, soberly, and in solemn single file down the corridors of Chorh-Gom behind the snow leopard as he carried the rhino's body over his good shoulder, in a ceremony as ancient as the peaks themselves and as revered as the turtle had been.

 

They had trudged through the oppressive darkness and a seemingly endless succession of narrow, spiraling passages that burrowed down through the mountain, following the secret escape tunnels the location and course of which the red panda luckily knew. None of them had spoken, for no words were needed or could possibly encapsulate what they were feeling, the shock of all that had happened and the numbness that came from facing such repugnant and frightening evil…from losing one of their own, one who had lived for so many years through so many fights that he had seemed virtually indestructible. Completely exhausted by the ordeal of the past few hours, and overwhelmed by the stress and disbelief settling over them as the adrenaline rush of battle faded, they had at last staggered from the final tunnel, which ended at a massive boulder that took both Tai Lung and Tigress to shove aside.

 

Emerging onto pristine snow fields lit by the pale sun of late afternoon, they had followed Tai Lung across its mostly flat expanse until the former scourge of the Valley had found a place he liked, the only real prominence in the vale—a locale that would stand out and be remarked by any who traveled through here, but which faced away from Chorh-Gom…instead rising like the prow of a ship to proudly overlook the land and its gorgeous mountain range, but also the pass which led toward the openness and possibilities of the plateaus and plains beyond, as if always seeking new vistas to explore, new horizons to cross…

 

And as first Tigress, then Shifu started helping the spotted feline dig with swords, staffs, and broken shards of rock to make a pit in the frozen ground, Monkey could not blame the ex-convict for how he felt and the sort of recognition he wished to give his former enemy…the simian felt exactly the same about Mantis. Except, of course, that he could not perform this same ceremony for the insect, no matter how desperately he wished to.

 

Once again he felt the tears well up, his throat lock with ragged sobs, his chest and shoulders surging with his renewed grief, and the langur had to cover his face again to keep from disturbing the others…as well as to hide his intense shame. Even now, after he had lived through almost the entirety of the last two months as an increasingly disconnected presence in his own head, his memories and experiences filtered through the lens of Heian Chao (where he could remember them at all), he could barely believe what had been done to him…what _he_ had done.

 

Yet despite how vague and foggy his consciousness, which had begun immediately after the attack at the Ghost Festival and had only increased since their time in Yunxian, he could not deny with stark, horrific clarity what had happened in that dusty, long-forgotten guard room in Chorh-Gom. The unreasoning hatred he had felt for Mantis, at having dared to interfere, to suggest he should be locked away as Tai Lung had been, thus leaving the snow leopard himself open to seduce and corrupt Tigress…to murder them all when it suited him and he no longer needed to keep up the ruse of his redemption. The fear that the insect would expose him to the others, and he would thus be deprived of his power…or killed. And the contempt as he had heard Mantis defend Tai Lung.

 

It had all swirled, churned, and built within him until he could stand it no more—and his hatred of the ex-convict, his unquenchable devotion to protecting Tigress's welfare, and his determination to root out the source of this evil no matter what he had to do or who he had to go through, had united to drive him to something so heinous, so unfair and treacherous…

 

He could still see the look on Mantis's face, as through a shadowy red haze, when the insect saw Monkey's fist coming straight toward him…hear the thud as his head was smashed into the wall behind him with a faint crunch of chitin, cutting off his friend’s strangled scream…feel Mantis's body go limp in his hand…and the only thing worse than watching that tiny, green form falling silently into the darkness of the abyss, when he had dropped it out the nearest arrow slit, had been the illicit and unholy joy he'd felt at the same time, as it had seemed the last obstacle to his elimination of Tai Lung once and for all had been removed.

 

Behind his hands, Monkey whimpered softly as more tears leaked between his fingers, trickling openly down his cheeks when he pulled his hand away to wipe at his leaking nose. He knew now, of course, that all of this had been utterly wrong…his emotions twisted, his perceptions skewed, his reason and logic gone awry or else abandoned him entirely. His distrust and dislike for the snow leopard, while perhaps grounded initially in genuine doubt and suspicion of his motives and heart, had been superseded by his jealousy—pure and simple.

 

It was not just that Monkey viewed himself as Tigress's guardian and brother, and the snow leopard had infringed on her rights and privacy…it was that he couldn't stand to see Tai Lung mooning over the woman he once wanted to be his wife, and still loved. Yet that love, as well as the friendship he'd cultivated with the leader of the Five—the _Four_ , now—ever since her rejection, had now been tainted, transformed into something sinister, ugly, and perverted. Tai Lung and Tigress had explained just how it was done, to the best of their knowledge, and who was behind it as the company had descended through the passages of Chorh-Gom, but Monkey had not needed to be told, for he could feel it in his heart.

 

Chao had possessed and manipulated him, yes, in a manner reminiscent of what he had done to Vachir: at least at first, the simian had been more in control of himself, able to speak, think, and act of his own volition rather than being a poor puppet—there had simply been a darker bent to his thoughts, a gradual shading of his consciousness and will that had led him into more sadistic and murderous plots against the snow leopard, and only recently had this influence grown sufficient and powerful enough to usurp his own body and turn him into a mindless automaton.

 

But none of this excused, or denied, the fact that it was his fault he was susceptible, his fault Chao had been able to sway him so easily, his fault Mantis was now dead. Because he had let the Dark One in. He had already been so filled with jealousy and hate, vindictiveness and spite, malice and cruelty, that it had made him easy pickings for this _chi_ wizard. There had not needed to be any torture or restraint, there had been nothing to fight so as to enter him and gain a hold on him—that night when he had encountered the black figure in the alleyway, it had only needed to brush his temple, surround him with its shadowy essence, flood his senses and his thoughts with its disturbing spirit-substance, and he had been lost.

 

And it had not helped that, once he got over the initial horror of the attack and what it meant, he had actually enjoyed the newfound power which had flooded through him. Even though he knew, deep down inside, that the one who had merged with him was as wicked and monstrous as he had believed Tai Lung to be once upon a time, it had delighted and even excited him what he could do—how his very presence, the ill will and miasma of hate and distrust and rage that clung him to like a noxious odor, had been enough to affect and overpower those around him.

 

Whispers and mutterings in Tigress's ear as they patrolled the northern rim of Yunxian's valley, and she had been primed and ready to attack the spotted cat with fangs bared and claws unsheathed when they discovered him with Po's bloody body. Comments flung casually across the kitchen table at mealtimes to a lonely and insecure Crane had made him just as suspicious and jealous when it came to how close the ex-convict and Mei Ling were becoming.

 

Insinuations about how Tigress running off into the birch forest to face the Wu Sisters had been a deliberate mockery and snub of his discipline and teaching methods had been enough to convince Shifu to read her the riot act, thereby widening the gap between them. An observation to Mei Ling that close-quarter fighting would be a better way to win against Tai Lung, since it would make it harder to use the more wide-sweeping, powerful blows he was known for, had led to certain sparring sessions where animal magnetism was bound to take its course.

 

And it had been laughably easy to play upon the fear, anxiety, resentment, and short tempers lurking beneath the surface of each of his fellow kung fu masters, saying just the right (or wrong) thing to set them off during their journey.

 

All of this had made him feel as drunk on power as he ever had on the handy bottles of liquor that had kept him warm on many a Sichuan night. It had convinced him he was in the right, that soon all of them would turn on Tai Lung and he would be cast out, exiled and condemned, bereft of anyone to call friend and any place to call home, left to wander China alone and worthless. Then Tigress would be safe (and his), everyone would be safe, and a glorious new order of peace would descend upon them. Or so he had thought.

 

But now, finally free of the pall of darkness, the haze of insanity and cloud of confusion, Monkey could see the truth all too clearly…it was horrible, and it was a doom brought about by his own hand. Even if Chao had been the ultimate source, it was from within him the evil had come, in him it had dwelled, taken root, and flourished. So much could be laid at his feet…he did not blame Crane and Viper in the slightest for what they had done when they discovered him just disposing of the evidence of his crime.

 

He had barely turned back from the window when a venomous hiss from the serpent was his only warning. His own face made somehow dangerous and unnerving by the shadows draping it, Crane had launched into Monkey with a cry that was half-sob, half-scream of outrage—and the fact the avian had always pulled his punches when they'd trained together in the kwoon meant the langur had been unprepared when the full force of those wings…wings which could break a grown man's collarbone or crush his trachea with one hit…had struck him.

 

And he had been followed immediately by the graceful but deadly blur of Viper's coils, wrapping around first his ankle, then his opposite wrist—extending to her full length, as taut as a bowstring, in one violent jerk that had clearly been meant to rip him apart, or at least wrench his arms and legs from their sockets.

 

If not for the protection afforded him by Chao's inhabitation, he would likely have died immediately for his crimes…and now, thinking back on it with anguish and self-loathing, he wished that he had. But no, the dark _chi_ within him had given him preternatural strength, a blinding speed even beyond his usual, an ability to go on for hours without fatigue, and a talent for evasion and escape matched only by his cleverness and guile.

 

As Crane had come for him again, he'd twisted and gyrated his arms around a full three hundred and sixty degrees, jerking Viper free of his leg only to grasp her tail in his free hand—so that when the waterfowl brought his wing about to strike him hard in the chest, it had been Viper instead, held horizontally before his golden chest, who took the blow.

 

Gasping and wheezing in pain, she'd lost her hold for a split second, which had been enough to let him rip her free and toss her unceremoniously in a heap on the far side of the room. Another gesture, this one backed up by a roiling surge of _chi_ summoned from deep within, black tendrils and a churning maelstrom of impenetrable shadow that had surrounded Crane, lifted him ten feet off the floor and slammed him into the wall just where it met the ceiling, pinning him there. And then he had made his escape out the door, rushing back through the fortress—knowing once they recovered they would be in hot pursuit, but caring only about reaching the one he had to kill, and she who would soon be his…

 

Snapping out of his reverie as he heard the snow leopard let out a groan of weariness, Monkey jerked his head up and saw Tai Lung leaning against a boulder rising out of the snow, just above the hole he and the others had dug, his good paw rubbing at the sore muscles of his lower back. He also saw everyone else looking at him—and while Tigress merely looked concerned and Shifu wary, both Crane and Viper shot him the most suspicious, resentful, and untrusting gazes he had ever seen.

 

Flinching guiltily, he turned away…for he knew they were absolutely right to feel as they did. It didn't matter he hadn't been in control of himself, there at the end…like Vachir, he had still committed a terrible atrocity. He did not think he could ever be forgiven—and even if the others somehow found it in their hearts to do so, he would never forgive himself.

 

A few more moments passed, while those who had dug the grave paused to recover their breath and strength and the rest merely gathered around, silent and introspective in their grief for Mantis (or else continued to eye Monkey harshly). Then, working together, each member of the group performed a role in the tradition as ancient and honored as time. Tai Lung, unsurprisingly, was not familiar with burial customs in general or those of the Mongolians in particular, but Master Shifu was able to advise all of them in what to do.

 

The snow leopard blinked and looked rather taken aback when the red panda calmly observed that the people of the steppes usually left the bodies of their dead 'cast out' in open-air burials that weren't true burials at all, simply abandoning them to rot on the plains for scavengers to pick clean—for they were a very nature-oriented and shamanistic culture, dedicated to the land and living in close symbiosis with it. And, since they believed one should leave the world the same way one entered it, their dead were usually 'buried' unclothed as well.

 

Tai Lung could not bring himself to follow this tradition, though whether because it seemed too disrespectful to him or because he didn't want to see Vachir naked was up for debate. He also pointed out, in a fairly subdued tone, that they could not exactly leave the body to rot in a climate where it would merely freeze, or assume it would be consumed by predators when there were far less of those in the mountains than out on the plains, which was why he had chosen to dig a grave in the first place. But other aspects of the Mongolian tradition he was able to observe, with everyone's aid.

 

Viper had managed to find a bolt of white cloth in one of the storage rooms of the prison as they passed down its halls toward the valley below; it was possible it had been reserved for this very purpose, since the vast majority of the Anvil of Heaven had been Mongolian as well and would have needed the same sort of ceremony when they died, but in any event, the serpent succeeded in winding the white fabric around Vachir's face with a sorrowful and gentle expression—being careful not to touch him, as that was forbidden to females.

 

Crane, with careful, slow movements, withdrew the _dao_ saber from his stomach and then flew to the edge of the valley where a deep crevasse plunged into the rocky terrain, there to drop the blade soundlessly into the darkness; since it had been corrupted by the touch of Chao's dark _chi_ , Tai Lung had decreed (and the others had concurred) that it was not safe to allow even a chance that the weapon might be used again. Then the snow leopard gestured somewhat peremptorily for Monkey to join him in lowering Vachir into the grave.

 

Though still glum, morose, and stricken by all he had done, the simian readily did so—for one of the things he had said while under Chao's influence that had been genuinely his words had been the respect and admiration he held toward the former commander. He was glad not only to be of use, but to help honor the rhino, a man who had been a loyal and good-hearted warrior of the empire.

 

He knew none of those at the Jade Palace, not even the primate himself who had also been exposed to the _chi_ wizard's darkness, had been able to believe Vachir capable of such depraved acts...and since it turned out he actually _hadn't_ been, that Heian Chao had been behind them, directly or indirectly, it made it all the more imperative to now give the rhino the burial and blessing he deserved.

 

Once he and the feline had maneuvered the soldier's bulk into the pit, Monkey wordlessly followed instructions which Tai Lung had in turn received from Shifu—placing a rock beneath Vachir's head as a pillow, turning him onto his left side since it was viewed as holy and beneficial, making sure he lay with his head aimed toward the north (where the next world supposedly lay), and putting him in the 'lion's position' with his left arm under his head, his right arm and hand covering his cloth-wrapped face, and his legs bent and tucked like an infant's.

 

When this had been accomplished, they climbed out so that Tigress and Shifu could begin sweeping and pushing the dirt and stone back into the grave to cover him. Tai Lung, who was the only one who knew Mongolian, unsheathed his claws and began to painstakingly carve words in the boulder at the head of the grave. While he was thus occupied, and the others watched him with sadness, wonder, or simple weariness, Monkey quietly slipped along the side of the hill—still within view of the others, but removed enough from the proceedings that he would be undisturbed.

 

There, with tears once more welling up thickly, he began to pile as many stones as he could find to form a cairn in the snow. The body of his oldest and best friend might be lost to them, somewhere in the depths of Chorh-Gom, but he refused to leave Mantis dishonored and forgotten…

 

By the time the primate had finished his solitary, self-determined task and had returned to the others to seek aid in marking the insect's somehow pitiful and forlorn memorial, the snow leopard had completed his own penitential act. Softly, so that his voice would have been inaudible if not for the utter lack of wind, Tai Lung read out what he had written for the benefit of the others: "Here lies a warrior true to his name, a man who was a thunderbolt in battle. He has passed to Erlik-Khan's kingdom; may he be the protector there he could not be in life."

 

All of them bowed their heads in respect, while Tai Lung said a brief prayer commending Vachir's spirit to the gods…and then, almost as one, everyone turned and looked at Monkey, then past him to the cairn. Viper actually glared at Monkey, clearly disgusted that the one who had killed Mantis had dared to build his grave marker.

 

But the langur didn't let it bother him, no matter how much he cringed inwardly, because he knew this had to be done. "Uh…Crane…could I, maybe, borrow your pen and ink? I…I want to write Mantis's name…"

 

For a moment, the avian too eyed him coldly, but then at a meaningful cough from Shifu and a slightly pleading look from Tigress, Crane sighed and nodded, relenting. Fishing out his calligraphy set from his satchel, he handed it over without a word, though Monkey could feel those narrowed eyes upon his backside as he marked the stones of the cairn with the proper hanzi. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when he turned back to find neither Crane nor Viper's gazes had softened or lost any of their silent accusation. Yet it still made his shoulders slump to see it.

 

By this time, the sun had already sunk behind the western ridgeline, and the blinding radiance of the snowfields had dimmed to a sullen gray, while the valley itself lay under a cloak of increasingly dark shadow. But Monkey did not move from his spot, instead flicking his gaze from one face to the next. Finally, he regarded Shifu, whose countenance did not betray any emotion whatsoever, as stoic as the granite cliffsides above them.

 

"Master…I know there ain't nothin' I can say that can make up for what I've done. I can't apologize enough, and no matter how hard I try, I know I won't ever get, or deserve, your forgiveness. So…I'm resignin'. I…I'll leave the Furious Five." _Four_ , he reminded himself fiercely, painfully.

 

Everyone looked at him. Tigress and Tai Lung were speechless, apparently taken aback, even distressed, by this possibility; Shifu merely blinked but otherwise did not move or reveal how he felt about the matter; and after their initial shock had faded, both Crane and Viper nodded almost in unison, their resentment, distrust, and sullen fury even more blatant. Clearly neither of them would be losing much sleep over his departure…something which he understood, even as it broke his heart.

 

While not as close to them as he had been to Mantis, he could not forget that it was Crane who had first made him feel welcome at the Jade Palace—rather than merely treating him as a sparring partner or student, as Tigress and Shifu had done, the waterfowl had come to his room bearing gifts: exquisite watercolors of Sichuan he said he'd painted years ago, when he was traveling the empire as a solo fighter, several prayer blessings to adorn his walls in flourishing calligraphy, and a warm blanket he said had come from his aunt.

 

And it had been Viper who had come to his room in the middle of the night when he was sick, to feed him noodles and broth and tend to his weakened body, all while gently tucking him into bed and telling him stories of her legendary father; she'd even ribbon-danced for him once or twice, especially when he'd received the news from his sister Wen that good old Hong had finally died—peacefully in his sleep, but still…

 

So seeing them now, so filled with contempt and dismissal, even though it was absolutely warranted—it would have made him withdraw from the Five and leave the palace even if he didn't feel such terrible guilt for what he had done.

 

The silence on the snowy hilltop, and of Monkey's tortured thoughts, was suddenly interrupted by Tigress—who, to his complete and utter shock, seemed to shake herself before stalking over to his side, grabbing him by his shirt, and hoisting him several feet off the ground! Bringing his face less than an inch away from her own, she narrowed her ruby eyes and snapped, "Don't…you… _dare_. We've already lost Mantis; I'm not going to let you put us at an even greater disadvantage by putting your tail between your legs and running away. Not now. I don't care what you did, we need you."

 

Her voice and expression softened briefly. "Besides, I know you didn't mean to do what you did; Chao made you. You never would have done it otherwise."

 

Even as Monkey was staring at her in mingled gratitude, disbelief, and guilt, Crane came up on her other side, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he gripped her arm tightly. "Tigress, are you crazy? He killed Mantis. He tried to kill you!" She flinched visibly, trembling as her throat began to flutter as if she were about to burst into tears, but still she did not back down. "If it hadn't been for what you did to Vachir, he'd probably still be under that maniac's control. We don't even know if he really _is_ free of this Chao."

 

The waterfowl eyed him suspiciously. "And if he is, well…he's shown he's susceptible once, what's to stop this creature from sinking his claws into him again? Maybe you're ready to turn your back on him, but _I'm_ not."

 

"What he said," Viper said coldly.

 

Slowly Tigress turned her head to glare at first the avian, then the serpent. "Need I remind you who the leader is around here? Unless Master Shifu overrules me, my decisions outrank yours. And I think he'll agree, we can't afford to get rid of the few allies we have left, just because there's a tiny possibility of betrayal." She glanced aside at the red panda, but he seemed determined to remain a neutral observer, at least for now, not even indicating which side he might come down on.

 

"I still trust Monkey," she stated simply, without hesitation, as she slowly set him back on his feet again. "I saw what Vachir was like, after he was free; you didn't. I know what this Chao can do, thanks to Tai Lung. And I've felt his influence myself, I think. So I think I can judge for myself if he's really free or not." She paused once more. "And…I think I know why Monkey acted as he did…I'd forgotten about it until now. You loved me, didn't you?"

 

Monkey couldn't bring himself to speak, and not just because he was still rather stunned by both her rapid lunge to capture him and her impassioned defense of his character. So he only nodded, sheepishly and dejectedly. _How couldn't I? You're the most amazing woman I ever met, 'cept for Viper._ Even though it made his heart ache with envy and loss, he understood how it was Tai Lung could love her, too.

 

Tigress nodded in turn, both pity and an odd tenderness in her gaze as she reached over to rest a paw on his shoulder. "So there you have it. I have another man in my life now…and it wasn't Monkey. He became jealous; and that was the way Chao found to slip into his heart. Any one of us could have fallen into the same trap, if only through a different negative emotion. So we're all equally trustworthy, or untrustworthy, as far as I'm concerned. And…"

 

She smiled at Monkey, a little regretfully. "As deluded as Chao made him, in the end, Monkey was simply trying, in his own way, even while as twisted as he was, to protect me. How can I fault him for that?"

 

From her other side, Viper hissed menacingly, angrily, but said nothing. Monkey might have thought the serpent, as well as Crane, were the ones now under this despicable villain's control, except he was quite familiar with Chao's presence and touch, and it was not present now, not in any of them. Nor did he see anything amiss with their _chi_. No, they were acting of their own volition, because they had been deeply hurt and cruelly betrayed by him, and no amount of pretty words or direct orders from Tigress was about to change that any time soon.

 

"Tigress…" he spoke up at last, pleading. "Don't…you don't have to do this, yanno. In fact, I wish ya wouldn't. I…I don't belong here no more. I don't wanna cause any more trouble for you guys. 'Specially not with Chao and the Wu Sisters still out there. I really don't think I should stay…as long as I do, it's gonna tear you all apart. You may trust me, but I don't think anyone else does. Me included." He flicked his gaze to Viper and Crane, then Shifu.

 

"I don't feel like he's in me no more, but I could be wrong. And how do ya know I ain't lyin'? Only way to know for sure, is t' have someone look at my _chi_ …an' the only one who could do that, is dead now." Dropping his eyes to the snow, he glowered, as the insidious thought came to him that this might be exactly what Chao had intended all along in forcing him to kill Mantis. No one to vouch for Monkey…or for that matter, to employ _chi_ himself as a healer and thus undermine the mage's schemes.

 

For the first time, the striped feline looked doubtful and worried—though less because his words had made her distrust him, he supposed, and more because she simply couldn't refute them. Viper and Crane looked vindicated, of course. And Shifu at last seemed on the verge of speaking…but just as he'd opened his mouth to do so, another voice suddenly interrupted, one with a familiar lilt of sarcasm even as it also seemed surprisingly thoughtful. "D'you mind if I say something here? I am the one he actually stabbed, you know."

 

Everyone turned and looked at Tai Lung. The snow leopard had risen from the kneeling posture he'd adopted at Vachir's graveside, and now he shouldered his way past Tigress and Crane both until he stood right before Monkey. In spite of himself, in spite of the brave and heroic deeds he had witnessed on the pinnacle, the simian flinched and started to backpedal from him. But the feline reached out and grabbed his arm to keep him from escaping—only to sink to his knees again and force Monkey to lift his head. Their eyes met…and the langur couldn't believe what he saw in Tai Lung's gaze. Sympathy. Understanding. Even caring.

 

"I get it now, finally," he said, so softly Monkey didn't think anyone else could hear him. "You love Tigress. Just as I do. So you know, there's no way I could fault you for that. I know what you went through…the same damn thing I did, these past few months when she wouldn't give me the time of day. And you were jealous of me, getting close to her where you couldn't. So what? _I_ was jealous too." He laughed ruefully.

 

"D'you believe, I actually thought Po was pursuing her? And all it took was one look and a few choice words from Tigress, and I started envying the Emperor—even though he was hundreds of miles away, and fifty years older now than he was in that portrait. That's how paranoid and nutty I was getting. Right up there with Oogway. Love makes you do crazy things…I don't blame you for that." Tai Lung paused, then stared meaningfully at him.

 

"As for the rest…I know from experience what it feels like to lose control of yourself…to do things you never meant to, wouldn't have wanted in your wildest dreams. And I've felt Chao's power, stirring up my anger, my hate, my rather overdeveloped sense of vengeance." His mouth quirked briefly into a tiny smirk. "So…while I'd rather it not happen again, and I sincerely hope you aren't just a firework ready to explode, I don't hold against you what you did to me."

 

Monkey couldn't believe what he was hearing, or seeing. Tai Lung, being forgiving and accepting? Real humility, and kindness, and compassion in his voice? None of the wickedness, cruelty, and contempt he remembered from their lone encounter at the Thread of Hope. And most importantly, he was standing up for the one who had hated and attacked him almost as long as Tigress herself, the one who had nearly cost both her and the snow leopard their lives.

 

The man he'd thought capable of nothing but revenge and destruction…was now arguing for leniency and justice. It was as if, despite being free of Chao, the world was making no more sense, was still lost in a distorted melange of contradictions and shades of gray. Yet he couldn't deny it—he saw no malice, hate, or guile in those eyes, not anymore.

 

"I'm sorry," he said just as softly, for Tai Lung's ears alone, while the others remained around them in a loose, ragged ring that still kept them out of earshot. "I'm sorry for doubtin' ya so long. You really do have good in ya…and, ya really do love her, don't ya?"

 

Choosing not to respond to the first half of his question, the snow leopard rested his paw on Monkey's shoulder and squeezed it gently. His heart was clearly in his throat as he smiled warmly. "With all my heart."

 

Closing his eyes briefly, Monkey sighed and wrapped his long, sinewy arms around Tai Lung's torso. Even as he heard gasps of both shock and objection behind him (the latter likely because Viper and Crane thought he would take advantage of the embrace to snap the snow leopard's neck or something equally treacherous), he rested his chin on the ex-convict's shoulder as he whispered. "Okay. Fine. I won't get in your way no more. You got my blessing with her. But you damn well better not hurt her, or so help me…"

 

Tai Lung snorted, but when he pulled back to look Monkey in the eye again, there was appreciation, gratitude, and a certain determination in his expression. "You don't have to worry about that, my friend. Hurting her is the last thing I want to do…I'd sooner kill myself than do that. Hell, I would if I _did_ do that." He paused, and then his intensity faded into humor. "Hurting her is also probably the _last_ thing I'd ever do, if you get my meaning…"

 

In spite of himself, in spite of everything, Monkey chuckled at that one. He had a very good point. "Good. Just so you know."

 

Patting his shoulder again, Tai Lung turned and abruptly rose to his feet, staring at each of the other masters. When he got to Crane and Viper, he looked downright disgusted, as well as strongly disapproving. "I don't believe you, you know," he said bluntly, biting the words off like slices of meat. "I know we've suffered a terrible loss. I know things look bad, and even though we've managed to stop those killings, and give Vachir some peace, now we have this wizard to deal with—something none of us have ever faced before. And I know you're hurting.

 

"But damn it, this is not the time to be pushing each other apart! Chao's been trying to do that all along, and now you're going to do his work for him? You're going to turn on someone you've known and trusted for almost the whole time I was in prison—and leave yourself wide open to this depraved madman to take you over too, by the by! What would Oogway have to say if he were here…or better yet, what would _Po_ say?"

 

Both the avian and the serpent flinched, and had the grace to turn and look away, shamed by the snow leopard's very true and powerful words. Monkey, watching this, could only find himself oddly reminded of something the turtle had said to him, years ago in Sichuan, after he had fought that gorilla bully Bolo and been accepted to train at the Jade Palace: _"Use your skills for good, young warrior. Find the one thing that you were denied so long ago."_

 

Instinctively, he flicked his eyes down to Tai Lung's blue trousers and had to bite back a highly inappropriate laugh. But it was true: the snow leopard _was_ doing good, and he was doing so because of the same thing Oogway had advised Monkey to embrace…because first Po, and then each of the Five in turn, had shown him compassion. As he was now showing Monkey.

 

"I'm not blind to the dangers," the feline continued, holding up a paw to forestall any objections. "I know Chao could still inhabit Monkey again…the same as he could invade each of us, if we give him the opening. So I suggest a compromise…until we can be certain of him, certain he is safe—and so are we—why don't we quarantine Monkey for a while? Restrain him for the trip back to the Valley, and when we get there, put him somewhere he can't hurt anyone until we can be sure of him." His eyes narrowed and flashed. "But no more blaming or recriminations. Got it?"

 

"That sounds like a very fine solution, son," Shifu spoke up at last, nodding firmly.

 

Slowly, reluctantly, both Crane and Viper mumbled and murmured their acceptance of the terms, while Tigress merely looked rather pleased with herself. Monkey, for his part, didn't mind despite the fact it was fairly clear, by reading between the lines, what Tai Lung had proposed: essentially, that he would be a prisoner. It was only fair and fitting, it was the only way to ensure no one got hurt if Chao returned to reclaim him…and considering his state of mind at the moment, it actually felt quite deserved. Even if it had not been him, or all of him, to escape this with no punishment at all just wasn't right.

 

"Good." Tai Lung shivered a little as the wind rose, cutting through all their clothes and even his thick fur with its chilly icicles. He pointed across the valley toward a cave mouth, just visible as a dark triangle at the base of a sheer vertical cliff. "Then I suggest we take shelter there and get a fire going. It'll be night soon, and there's no way we'll be out of Tavan Bogd in time to keep from being caught out on the slopes. It'll be better to get an early start tomorrow morning." He winced, then rubbed at his bandaged side. "And I think I might need this looked at again before I turn in…not to mention this rather lovely gash over my eyebrow…"

 

* * *

 

 

By the time they had reached the cave, twilight had already begun to fade into a night lit only by the faint twinkling of the stars, since the moon was still new and did not lend its light to the land. While Shifu and Tigress set to starting the fire and preparing their dinner, Crane took a deep breath, nerved himself, and opened the pouch of healing supplies Mantis had left behind. After sorting through its contents in silence and picking out what would be needed to treat Tai Lung, however, the avian paused—as well he might.

 

For while he had become familiar with various healing procedures after observing the insect for years, knowledge of the skills was worthless when his wing feathers were hardly articulated enough to hold the needle and thread. There was only one other person in the cave who had the manual dexterity for the task…and not only did that person have no knowledge of medicine, he was also Monkey. For the sake of Tai Lung, however, Crane pressed his bill tightly closed and let out a resigned sigh—agreeing (albeit under duress) that he would give the instructions while the simian carried out the actual stitching.

 

Somehow, however, after the strips of cloth had been peeled back from the snow leopard's side and they had begun cleaning, disinfecting, and sewing the deep gash, Monkey had not minded the work in the least. He was the one who had dealt it, after all, it seemed only fair that he help repair it, too. And something requiring such patience and attention to detail was not only a welcoming and somehow soothing distraction, it proved he could still be trusted to do the right thing. He hoped…

 

Even with the rather large, roaring fire they built in the cave, fueled by deadwood on the mountain slopes as well as the shafts of spears and arrows which past besiegers of Chorh-Gom had left abandoned in the valley decades ago, that night was rather cold for all concerned—especially Monkey. Since he couldn't help but notice Tigress and Tai Lung cuddling together for warmth, but no one—such as Viper—tried to seek the same in his own arms.

 

Not that he particularly wanted them to, since neither the serpent nor Crane was a great source of body heat and the idea of himself and Shifu sharing a bedroll was extremely off-putting, to say the least. But still…when it only accented how ostracized he still was among his friends, and he was shivering alone on the stone floor, suddenly those possibilities didn't look so bad anymore.

 

The next day, however, saw their departure from Tavan Bogd by the same pass through which they had come, and by early afternoon they had already bypassed the still empty, ominous buildings of Qinghe and were returning through the desert and along the plateau which led back to Gansu. Yet somehow, despite the very welcome change in climate, and the fact the pall of fear, horror, and worry which had hung over them on their journey westward was now gone, this return trip didn't feel much better. Yes, the depraved killer of the Valley, of the whole empire, was now gone; Vachir was at peace; and they had won the day.

 

But now everyone knew that this Heian Chao was still out there, plotting and scheming, surely enraged by his failure to kill them all or turn Tai Lung to evil as he had intended all along, just waiting to swoop in and strike again with something likely to be even more shocking, terrible, and disturbing. And while Monkey was free of this wizard's control at last, it had cost them the life of Mantis.

 

Even aside from the value he had brought to the Furious Five with his inimitable fighting style, there was his knowledge and skill as a healer—a loss those at the Jade Palace would most likely be feeling acutely in the days ahead—and his genuinely amusing, light-hearted personality. Never again would they hear that deep, raspy chuckle which had always seemed at odds with the insect's tiny frame.

 

Never again would they be subjected to his tall tales, wild and surely exaggerated exploits from his youth, or ribald, perverted jokes. Knowing this, it was somehow as if all of China, their route back to the Valley, and the palace which waited for them was so much emptier, had taken on the same frigid chill as Chorh-Gom…one that would sink into their very marrow and never leave.

 

Indeed, for almost the entirety of the two-week journey back to Hubei, the Furious Four, their master, and Tai Lung were as glum, despondent, and bitter as they had been contentious, argumentative, and violent on the way to Xinjiang. True, the constant bickering and in-fighting they'd devolved into was now nowhere to be seen—in fact, by contrast the kung fu warriors were instead apologizing and falling all over themselves to make amends, to such an insane degree that it was soon almost as ridiculous and profuse as the arguing had been.

 

Shifu was the first to apologize to Tai Lung, almost as soon as they were out of sight of Qinghe—attesting once again to his inordinate sorrow at not realizing sooner…not understanding years ago…what Vachir had done to his son. Even more than when he'd apologized for not standing up to Oogway on his behalf, for how he had raised him, for making him believe he would be the Dragon Warrior, Shifu seemed even more upset and guilty, and perhaps with greater cause.

 

But the snow leopard in turn apologized sincerely to his master, explaining dolefully to the red panda that he had kept things from Shifu out of spite for the suspicions directed toward him at Yunxian—as well as, he was certain, because Chao had cunningly influenced him into doing so. He then confessed the truth about his past with the Wu Sisters—that they had met long ago, before his rampage, had in fact tried even then to get him to join their ranks. And when that had failed, they had insinuated he would come to them eventually, when both Shifu and Oogway rejected him for being unworthy and not truly belonging at the Jade Palace.

 

Rather than becoming angry that Tai Lung had kept this from him, and that his son had actually believed such terrible lies about him and the turtle, the red panda's gaze only became harder and flintier. Quietly observing that this made it clear the assassins had played a role in triggering his rampage as well, he thanked Tai Lung for his candidness…and ominously pronounced that the Wu Sisters would get what was coming to them soon enough.

 

Next it was Crane who apologized to Tai Lung for how he had attacked him and made unfair, unwarranted assumptions about him and Mei Ling. Observing that he was certain the snow leopard had been nothing but courteous, chivalric, and well-mannered when courting the mountain cat, the avian then proceeded to fulfill his long-ago promise in Yunxian, acquiring fishing tackle and gear and leading Tai Lung up into the mountains for several long, leisurely days of trawling the rushing streams and pools of the peaks.

 

Monkey could only watch this byplay with a mixture of bittersweet sorrow (it used to be him Crane would go fishing with), a slight if grudging reassurance at seeing Tai Lung reconnecting so well with one who had become so estranged from him, and a certain veiled amusement—for it seemed, somehow, that the usually insightful and clever bird had missed the implications of the snow leopard almost giving his life for Tigress and the striped feline claiming she had a man in her life…and so Crane assumed Tai Lung and Mei Ling were still an item!

 

Why the snow leopard wasn't correcting this oversight wasn't apparent…either he was still not comfortable revealing how he felt about the leader of the Four to the world at large (perhaps because he rightly feared retaliation from the Wu Sisters or Chao?), or he found Crane's clueless state just as amusing…

 

Tigress herself was quick to apologize, too. First it was to Tai Lung, for constantly dismissing his references to Vachir's cruelty and his reasons for slaughtering the Anvil of Heaven; the guilt-stricken look on her face as she admitted to thinking he'd deserved his punishments at Chorh-Gom without knowing what they had truly entailed, and her regret for this, was quite something to see. It also prompted a quick but strong paw-clasp between the cats, and an embrace which, though it still made Monkey wince, somehow was easier to witness this time.

 

Soon after, the striped feline had apologized to Shifu as well for how she'd treated him at the campfire that night, only to have the red panda cut her off, note that everything she'd said to him was completely warranted (if, perhaps, a bit too acerbic and impolite), and then in turn apologize to _her_ for the way he had raised her. Which had led to some unbearably and exquisitely awkward moments as, at almost every town and village they stopped at on their way through Gansu and Shaanxi, the red panda insisted on taking Tigress to the local tea shop so they could 'chat'.

 

Once that possibility had been exhausted, Shifu decided (in a moment which Monkey thought showed a clear leave of his senses) to take his daughter shopping. To be fair, after the violence of the battle with Vachir, as well as having to bandage Tai Lung afterwards, the state of her clothing was rather atrocious. But the red panda was absolutely hopeless when it came to Tigress's tastes. The simian knew this from experience, having witnessed the first time Viper had gone into the village, not long after she first arrived at the Jade Palace, to bring back a new wardrobe for their leader. Tigress had taken one look at the frilly, beribboned and silken garments better suited to a Hanfu Imperial lady and buried her face in her paws in despair.

 

Ever since that day, after she'd given Viper a careful and pointed discussion on just how she preferred to dress herself, all of Tigress's shopping had been done by herself, or the serpent after proper coaching. To judge from the sorts of dresses he now tried to foist off on her, Shifu had apparently never received this information…but while Monkey expected the agonized screams to echo off the mountains all the way home, the striped feline had somewhat surprised him by only shaking her head regretfully and drawing her father aside to explain.

 

That little foray into the not-so-feminine mind had led to a different exploration, namely of various stores offering supplies for someone who enjoyed a more rugged, outdoors mentality—packs, pouches, rations, solid wooden shoes for hiking, grappling hooks, and walking sticks for support. But while Shifu promised to go on private excursions with her as soon as it was safe to do so, to help her commune with nature and retain the balance and poise she so often needed to offset her temper, it was actually a visit to a bookseller's shop in Shaanxi that proved most leavening for everyone's mood—as well as surprisingly entertaining.

 

One of the scrolls on display, it turned out, was a complete retelling of recent events in the Valley of Peace, from Tai Lung's escape to his defeat at the paws of Po. It made sense, of course, that such an amazing tale would already be inspiring legends across China…but what was both a source of consternation and much grumbling was how grossly inaccurate and exaggerated the story was. Not only did the Dragon Warrior come across as an even bigger hero (no pun intended) than he actually was, with the actions the Furious Five took to stop the snow leopard reduced almost to a footnote, but none of them were at all characterized properly.

 

The writer of the scroll seemed to think Monkey was mute other than the ability to use _kiai_ s in battle, that Crane stuttered and Viper only cared about makeup and pretty clothes, and that Shifu was a bitter old man who didn't know what love was, only cared about being the one to train the Dragon Warrior, and enjoyed torturing and mistreating Po to an insanely disturbing degree. _Okay, they got that part half-right, anyway_.

 

Perhaps the worst offenses, however, were made against Tai Lung and Tigress: the former was depicted as a drooling, savage, uncivilized beast who couldn't even talk save for grunted, growling exclamations of "Tai smash!", and the scroll-writer had apparently mistaken the striped feline for a man!

 

Before she could stop herself, Tigress had begun to snicker and chuckle at the snow leopard's portrayal, particularly because it matched so well what all of them, and she especially, had once believed of Tai Lung. But she had swiftly apologized at the look on the spotted feline's face, and again when he actually rather gallantly defended her honor to the fox running the stall, insisting that if her beauty and femininity weren't properly acknowledged in a retraction, he'd be confiscating every single copy of the story and reporting the man to the Emperor posthaste.

 

Yet aside from such moments of brief hilarity and camaraderie, the majority of the journey remained morose and sorrowful. For while Monkey took every chance he got to apologize for what he had done and attempt to make amends, the only one aside from Tai Lung and Tigress who seemed to respond to his overtures at all was Shifu. And the two felines were often not around to act as buffers between the langur, Crane, and Viper—for perhaps surprisingly, Mantis's death seemed to have hit Tigress incredibly hard.

 

She'd been in denial after Viper's initial explosive and tearful testimony on the ledge, had insisted it had to be a lie or a mistake—that if they hadn't seen a body it simply couldn't be true, and she'd been all set to comb and explore every inch of tunnel and cavern beneath Chorh-Gom until the insect was found, one way or another. But when Monkey himself had miserably explained what had happened, that there was no way Mantis could have survived the fall even if he had recovered from the simian's sucker-punch, and when Shifu had gently pointed out they could not waste any more time here searching when Po still remained a clear target back in the Valley, Tigress had been forced to accept it.

 

And ever since, she had seemed to enter an endless cycle of stoic calm and tearful despair. The end result of this was that when she wasn't marching alongside the others on the winding roadway, as proud and dignified as ever while she contemplated what challenges lay ahead for them in stopping Heian Chao and the Wu Sisters once and for all, she was dissolving into soft sobs and bouts of weeping—usually late at night, when she thought no one would hear her in her inn room or the corner of the glades and caves they camped within.

 

This had led Tai Lung to attempt various means of cheering her up, distracting her from her mourning, or otherwise keeping her mind occupied. Or perhaps he was simply continuing his slow and unusually tender courtship; Monkey wasn't certain. All he knew was that watching it still made him jealous—not so much of Tai Lung winning Tigress over where he hadn't been able to, but how the snow leopard was displaying a generosity of heart and gentle spirit he never would have believed possible before.

 

The ex-convict took every chance he could get to spend time with her, whether taking her out to eat at the nicest restaurant in whichever town they happened to be, joining her in her forest and mountain hikes, or even prodding her to visit orphanages and daycares along their route home—judging, apparently correctly, that the laughter, unconditional love, and playfulness of children would be more than enough to ease the ache in her heart and bring a smile to her face, even if only for a little while.

 

What they discussed on these outings, Monkey didn't know, but aside from how clearly their love was blossoming because of it—something which frankly depressed him—these excursions also kept either cat from intervening when Crane or Viper decided to be spiteful toward the primate.

 

So in short, the entire two weeks back to the Valley of Peace consisted of snappish retorts and cold shoulders, worried silence from Shifu, watching Tigress bury her face in Tai Lung's chest fur while she worked through her grief, or seeing the two of them hold hands across a candlelit table and on occasion lean cheeks into caressing paws while soft purrs filled the air. Was it any wonder that by the time they reached the Valley, Monkey didn't know whether to retch, start crying himself, or bury himself in a hole and never come out again?

 

It only got worse rather than better when they climbed the stairs to the top of the Jade Mountain. There was of course the odd, questioning looks many of the villagers gave them—not only for Mantis's conspicuous absence, but the fact Crane had procured leather thongs in the first inhabited village they'd come to and had used them to truss Monkey's hands rather tightly behind his back. It was a state of affairs which had disgusted him, even as he knew it was strictly necessary and that he would have accepted much worse to punish himself if that was what it took to earn their forgiveness…

 

So, naturally, it had drawn many stares and whispers to see Crane's bill or Viper's tail occasionally prodding Monkey in the back to drive him onward. But not even the clearly battered and bruised condition of Tai Lung, with bandages wrapped around his side and gauze wound about the side of his head, could prevent Po from rushing forward even before they'd reached the top of the steps to grab the snow leopard in a bone-crushing hug. (The sling, thankfully, had come off just a day or two before they arrived home.)

 

And seeing this only reminded Monkey, sadly, of the manner in which the Dragon Warrior had parted from them when they had set off on their sojourn—standing in the same place, before the red-painted wooden doors, vacillating nervously from one foot to the other, while he waved after them…sometimes desperate and excited, other times uncertain and rather woeful. At the time, of course, the seven masters had barely made it beyond the edge of the village when Mantis had at once set to teasing Tai Lung, asking him whether Po was his doting mother seeing him off on his first day of school, or his long-suffering wife watching him go off to war.

 

Quite naturally, this had made the snow leopard lunge for the insect and launch into a string of curses and nasty insults about Mantis's ancestors that, in retrospect, was rather impressive. It had also been only the beginning of the arguing, so that in all honesty it was quite right to note 'the whole trip went downhill from there'. But now, thinking back, Monkey could only view the whole scene with a tinge of remorse and anguish.

 

"Gods, Tai! What happened to ya? What happened t' all of ya?" The panda peered around his friend's spotted bulk to eye each of the other masters worriedly. "Ya all look like you got run through a washing board. Do I even wanna know who you were up against?"

 

All of them exchanged several uncertain and solemn looks, but it was Tai Lung himself who finally admitted the truth—though it was quite noticeable how he left things out, particularly the gaps in his tale which referenced exactly what the rhino had done to him while in prison, and what he'd said while taunting him in battle. Yet somehow, although Po did look stunned and even crushed that the identity of the killer turned out to be none other than Commander Vachir, he didn't comment aloud on such a terrible turn of events, nor did he press Tai Lung for missing details.

 

Instead, after listening raptly to a swift but terse narration of the high points of the epic combat, when the snow leopard, with assistance from Tigress and Shifu, explained about the undead regiments from the Anvil of Heaven, the Dragon Warrior stared at them in shocked disbelief. Monkey wondered if Po was about to get sick—until the panda suddenly slapped a paw to his forehead and looked, of all things, excited, awed, and somehow resentful. "Aww _man_! You guys were fightin' zombies, an' I didn't get t' be there t' see it? That blows…"

 

In other circumstances, some of them might have found it at least amusing that Po felt cheated by having to stay in the Valley where it was safe. Not now. Striking his staff on the steps, Shifu glared crossly at the giant panda and cut him off firmly. "No, it does not! Trust me, panda, you should be grateful you were not there to face these horrors…if I could, I would have spared all of us the experience as well…" He trailed off, narrowing his blue eyes speculatively at the other bear. "Is something wrong?"

 

True enough, at the moment Shifu had mentioned 'horrors', a rather furtive and evasive look had appeared on the Dragon Warrior's face—and after flinching guiltily, he looked away, his fingers twisting and intertwining habitually while his speech became even more rapid and nervous. "Uh…no, no, not at all, Master Shifu…it's just, uh, we did kinda have some problems while you guys were all gone—nothin' t' worry about, all taken care of already, yeah. But it was kinda…scary too. Good thing Mei Ling and Zhuang were here…"

 

Looking as if she wanted to slap him into sensibility, or at least force coherence and a direct answer out of him, Tigress sighed heavily and growled. "Spit it out, Po! What aren't you telling us? What happened?" She looked past him pointedly. "Where's Mei Ling?"

 

"Well, she's kinda…getting her leg checked again by the doctor. It got hurt pretty bad, when she was fightin' the Wu Sisters—"

 

" _What_?" Now Tigress did grab him by the shoulders and shake him a little, and it rather looked like Tai Lung wanted to get in line to do the same.

 

So, haltingly at first but with increasing confidence, Po explained about the foray the three assassins had made into the palace, and how it had been foiled. Monkey eyed the Dragon Warrior speculatively, wondering at just what was being left out—while the lurid description of what the mountain cat had done to defeat and drive off her half-sisters sounded exaggerated and overwhelming enough to be at least slightly embellished, suggesting he hadn't witnessed all of it firsthand, the simian noted that Po seemed to go out of his way to keep from talking about his own contributions to the fight. In fact he seemed very nervous about it. Why would that be?

 

But all such thoughts were driven from his mind when the panda mentioned, offhanded but in a tiny, quivering voice, that the youngest sister, Jia, had leapt out a window, pursued almost immediately by both Chun and Xiu, after they had seen what was written on the walls. He swallowed hard, feeling sick all over again.

 

"My room? Was that where you were?" he asked, his voice tight, as despair started welling up within him. He remembered very well, if through a glass darkly, the things Chao had written there, or driven him to write. He had hoped no one would ever see it...

 

Po didn't answer, but then he didn't have to, only staring off into space briefly before finally nodding—and then giving him a very direct, hurt, and sad look. Somehow, seeing the panda look at him that way was worse than even how Crane and Viper had treated him all the way home…for it was as if he could see the Dragon Warrior's hero-worship that he had reserved for each member of the Five crumbling and dissolving before his eyes. Such an ardent and devoted fan of kung fu, one who had memorized every tale and legend of the Five, who lived and breathed their lives and philosophies…now having his fantasies trampled on, his hopes and dreams broken. It made Monkey despise Heian Chao more than ever…as well as himself.

 

"We…we cleaned it up," Po commented in a halting aside. "Thought…ya might appreciate that. Since, y'know, I didn't…really think ya wanted it…left that…way." He glanced back at Monkey at last, and the primate noticed exactly when those pained green eyes marked the bindings holding his wrists fast—for at the same time, something flickered in his expression: disbelief, fear, but also an unexpected approval. "I guess it wasn't all just talk, though?"

 

Everyone looked at each other, confused by these vague statements and their implications, but Crane, whose room was right next to Monkey's so that he could have heard or smelled all sorts of things, seemed to understand what the Dragon Warrior was getting at, in generalities if not specifics. "No, we had to be…a little rough with Monkey. He…wasn't himself, hasn't been since the Ghost Festival, it seems. There's someone else out there, an enemy we didn't even know about, someone who was—influencing Monkey, I guess. He possessed the commander somehow, and he hired the Wu Sisters, too. From what we've been told, his name is Heian Chao."

 

Despite already being covered with white fur, the panda's face became pale, and he looked rather sweaty and sickly as he put a paw to his head, shaking it from side to side. "What? I…I thought that kinda stuff only happened in stories! Though, I guess it would explain a lot…"

 

"Believe it," Tai Lung sighed, exasperated but also determined. "It's not just a ghost story, this is real life, panda. I don't know how we can fight him, but we have to try. We can't let him get away with this. Oogway believes it can be done—we just have to figure out a way."

 

Po swallowed, then hung his head and shuffled his feet. "I am so sorry, guys. This is all my fault."

 

"How do you figure that one?" The snow leopard furrowed his brows.

 

"Hey, I'm the one Master Shifu and you've been trainin' in _chi_ , I should've realized somethin' wasn't right with Monkey. I only know you guys like the back of my paws—how could I miss noticin' when all the fun an' games went down th' drain 'cause Monkey wasn't crackin' one-liners and playin' practical jokes on everyone? And I'm th' one who does all the cookin' and cleanin' around here, if I'd gone t' Monkey's room sooner t' see why he wasn't eatin' or pick up his dirty dishes, I would've known what was goin' on before you guys left…not t' mention Mantis was startin' t' teach me about _chi_ too." He paused. "Where is Mantis, anyway? There's somebody else here who needs some healin'…"

 

An even more uncomfortable silence settled over the peak, finally broken when Viper, once again, had to give the terrible news—although this time instead of bursting into tears or shouting it, the serpent only related it in a small, tired, reluctant voice. "He…he didn't make it, Po. We lost him at Chorh-Gom. Chao…made Monkey kill him."

 

Somehow, hearing it stated aloud so bluntly was worse yet. Monkey flinched at the same time the panda did, and he was already ducking low, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast when Po looked at him—hard and unforgiving for a moment, quickly followed by sympathy and understanding, and then at last his face crumpled in absolute devastation. Before anyone could stop him, the Dragon Warrior stepped across the porch and knelt in front of Monkey, hugging him almost as tightly as he had Tai Lung, and the simian could feel something wet soaking into his fur.

 

"How…gods, no…it's not fair…he, he _can't_ be gone…an' how could that sick bastard make you do somethin' like that! I'm so, so sorry…if I'd known before you guys left, if I made you stay here, if I'd gone with ya, none of this would've happened…I'm so sorry…" His voice broke, dissolving into wordless sobs.

 

Over Po's shaking shoulder, Monkey could see Crane glaring and Viper rolling her eyes (though she did, at least, spare a gentle glance for the panda—even if she disapproved of him showing compassion to the langur, she at least still had the empathy to care for the tender-hearted bear's suffering). Shifu and Tai Lung both glanced away out of respect, while Tigress looked on the verge of rushing over and joining in the communal embrace, but the bound Monkey could only lean against Po as he held him close, marveling at how his attitude had changed just like that.

_I don't deserve this…no one should ever forgive me. But…how could I think Po would act any other way?_

 

While this awkward tableau remained on the terrace, Mei Ling appeared from the palace doors, and indeed she was limping slightly but looked otherwise as strong and capable as ever. Accompanying her, oddly, was Shen Zhuang. She also gave Monkey a pointed look, and while it was not as harsh and judgmental as he had rightly earned, it was wary—and rather afraid as she saw him and Po in such a close, vulnerable position. "You should probably get away from him," she said softly, though not completely unkindly. "Whatever's wrong with him might be catching."

 

"I don't care," Po snapped, his voice muffled. "He needs me. He needs all of us. The only way he's gonna get through this, is if we help him, stand by him. Abandonin' him isn't right."

 

Everyone exchanged startled (and in the case of Crane and Viper, ashamed) glances—once again, the panda was proving his right to the Dragon Scroll, for even without being told Chao's methods and targets he had seen right to the heart of how to undermine and circumvent the shadow mage's schemes…with kindness and love, not suspicion and rejection.

 

After another short silence, Mei Ling turned to face the others. With a brightly false cheer, she asked, "So, how'd it go?"

 

Before they could answer her, the bull spoke up at almost the same time, looking around worriedly and anxiously. "Where's the creepy little bug? The doctor did what he could, but Chang and his wife could really use some advanced healing…"

 

" _What_?" Tai Lung burst out, twisting around so fast he let out a gasp of pain as his side stretched too far. "You mean they're still alive?"

 

So it began again—the sharing of the terrible news about Mantis, the blow of which seemed to increase in severity each time it was related, if for no other reason than how one thing after another emphasized the gaping hole of his absence. The relation of what exactly had happened to the ex-foreman and his family, the nausea-inducing discovery Zhuang had made in Master Wei's home, and the now exceedingly lame and belated warning the elephant had given. The knowledge that without the insect's singular skill in healing and medicine, with only the Valley's doctor and perhaps some assistance from Po and Crane, Chang and Hai might not survive the trauma they'd experienced.

 

The realization that if Heian Chao could make Vachir perform something this horrific and inhuman… _and could somehow draw strength from it_ …then what they faced was even more unbelievable and bewildering than they could ever have imagined. And perhaps, on some level, the understanding that while what Monkey had been compelled to do was still an awful tragedy, others were just as culpable, and at the same time just as helpless to resist the wizard's thrall…and all of it was part of something bigger, a larger and more complex pattern that had been woven about the Valley to ensnare them.

 

Not that Crane and Viper seemed ready yet to forgive him because of this…but possibly they might see, for the first time, that there was more to this, that they would better expend their energies by focusing on the one who was truly responsible rather than wasting it on Monkey.

 

In the end, though, none of this mattered to him. For the more he heard, the deeper and darker became his depression, the more inconsolable and staggered by his grief and self-loathing. He could barely focus on the conversation swirling around him, the apologizing which had become even more wild and disparate.

 

Mei Ling apologizing for not voicing her suspicions about Monkey earlier, Zhuang apologizing for not having made sure Monkey got home safely to the palace the night of the festival, Tai Lung apologizing for not noticing the simian's dislike and contempt for him had been stronger and more out-of-character than usual (as well as, again, not breaking through Chao's mind-fogging power to be able to warn them of just what he could do), Shifu apologizing for having fired Chang in the first place (no offense meant to the bull and his excellent craftsmanship) and thus put him at risk…

 

No, all that mattered to Monkey was that even though they had won, they had also lost—more even than they had realized. That even though Vachir was gone and the killings had ended (something which pleased Po, Mei Ling, and Zhuang equally), the nightmare was not over, and might never be. And that he, somehow, was still at the center of it.

 

When Tai Lung went off with Zhuang, then, to check up on the elephant—his earlier contempt and hatred having evaporated into stricken horror and genuine concern—and Po began to drift off with Crane, Viper, and Tigress to try and plan (with noticeably continuous tears) some suitable memorial for their fallen comrade, Monkey could not help but turn to Shifu, ducking his head in deference and bowing so low on the paving stones he was practically groveling.

 

"Master…you…you'd better lock me up now. Before anythin' else happens. Before I hurt somebody again. I…I already took Mantis away from ya. I don't think I could take it if we lost anybody else."

 

For a moment it looked as if the red panda were about to argue with him, or at least insist on a more fair and equitable solution. But whether he remembered how both Crane and Viper had reacted, or simply realized Monkey wasn't going to take no for an answer, Shifu finally nodded and led the simian inside.

 

Up the steps, through the great doors, across the Hall of Warriors (which Monkey barely felt able to stomach, the beauty and honor of the great and hallowed chamber something of which he no longer felt worthy)…down the passages and stairwells, into the halls and rooms underground beneath the palace, until at last they came to the same set of storerooms where Tai Lung had once been held prisoner. In fact, it was the exact same room he'd inhabited where Shifu led Monkey now. How fitting.

 

Once inside the small, stone-walled chamber, Shifu untied Monkey's hands with shaking fingers, then slowly, with clear reluctance, crossed over to the door to shut and lock it. Peering in the barred window set into it as he did so, the red panda looked more saddened and stunned than he had since announcing Oogway's death. But he still clicked the key in the lock as he said, softly, "I…I'll have Po bring you food soon, Monkey. And I do hope it won't take long…before we have proof you're truly free. Then we can release you…and the others can begin to forgive, I hope…"

 

Yet as the old master turned and walked away down the hall, appearing even more aged and bent by the weight of this new burden, Monkey could only grip the bars in his long-fingered hands, bow his head, and sigh as he closed his eyes.

_Finally. I'm where I belong…where I should stay._

                                                                      

* * *

 

Afternoon sunlight spilled in lazy, mote-laden streams through the open doors and several high windows, pouring across the marble floor of the Sacred Hall of Warriors. It picked out the gleaming threads in ancient but still perfectly preserved tapestries and paintings hung on the walls, the veining in the marble pillars, and the burnished, buttery warmth of the numerous golden braziers. It reflected off the Moon Pool, its placid surface only mildly disturbed now and then by a breeze making its pale blue waters ripple. It shone from the blade of the Sword of Heroes, the bronzed disk of the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass, and the battle-scarred armor of Master Flying Rhino on its pedestal.

 

And it spread like a warm, blanketing cloak over the spotted shoulders of Tai Lung as he stood silent, still, and reverent before a display rack that, up until now, he had avoided looking at or even acknowledging.

 

Unlike Oogway's staff, it rested vertically between two upright wooden supports, and there was also no portrait behind it nor candles arranged before it. It did not need such recognition, or even light sources, for the sunlight caused it to blaze brightly all on its own. Its haft, somewhere between six and seven feet long—he had of course never held it to be certain, only giving it an eyeball measurement—looked to be fashioned of strong, thickly solid bamboo which had been painted a deep, rich crimson in hue, although he suspected this particular wood was not flammable.

 

Its blade, adding another foot to its length, held such a bright purity that it might have been unmarred gold rather than bronze or copper, and it had been molded and cast in the shape of flickering, undulating flames, rather like the breath of a dragon was thought to look; even as he looked at it, the metal seemed to shine with an inner fire, as if all the power of the sun…or perhaps fire _chi_?—were contained within it. The whole of the weapon, in fact, seemed to burn with such mystical ability that no one who gazed upon it would dare to touch it.

 

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. This was, of course, the Golden Spear…the most mysterious and unknown kung fu artifact kept at the Jade Palace. Legend said it had been forged from the fires of Dragon Mountain, a volcano in the same Tengchong region as the Dragon Stealing Heaven's Tear, though of course nothing could be proven. Although other weapons housed here were more obviously deadly and useful in combat (the Sword of Heroes, with its ability to change into its component weapons, came to mind), the spear was said to hold one unusual property that would make it the chosen equipment of any seriously righteous and honorable kung fu practitioner. It could, somehow, seek out evil in the heart of any warrior…including the one who wielded it.

 

What exactly it would do to such a wicked, unrepentant adversary was never described in the old tales, but it was apparently a proven fact that only the purest and bravest could even hold the Golden Spear. Anyone deemed unworthy by the power that slept within would be terribly burned should they even try to grasp it, let alone use it in combat.

 

Tai Lung had believed, once, that it would be his. Not because he felt himself a paragon of virtue, nobility, and justice (although he did), but because the weapon was in one way or another quite obviously associated with dragons. This, coupled with its strange power, seemed to mark it as the weapon of choice for the Dragon Warrior—how better to bring peace to the Valley and all of China, after all, than by literally facing down and burning away whatever corruption, darkness, and true evil threatened the people?

 

It was something he had dreamed of almost as long as he had the Dragon Scroll, it was why he had chosen to study and master halberds and lances almost as soon as he began his weapons training. He had been certain that the same day Oogway granted him the scroll, he would take the holy spear down from its sacred resting place and carry it out into the world, there to fulfill his prophesied heroic destiny.

_Well. We all know how that turned out, don't we?_

 

"Tai Lung? What are you doing here?"

 

Only his keen sense of hearing, detecting claws gently scraping on marble and the pad of paws upon the floor, warned him Tigress was there so that he did not embarrassingly leap several feet in the air. Which, considering the healing wound in his side that still ached and throbbed at inopportune moments, and which would have been aggravated by such a reaction, was a rather good thing. He turned about slowly instead to look at her morosely but with a wan, slightly appreciative smile. "Just…thinking. Don't worry, I won't get in a habit of it."

 

In spite of herself, the striped feline chuckled a little. "Just between you and me, I think you could stand to think a little more often. But you didn't really answer my question. You don't need to be in the palace you know; Shifu gave you the day off."

 

And so he had. Decreeing that Tai Lung had acquitted himself admirably at Chorh-Gom, as well as in the events which took place afterward, the red panda had praised and thanked the snow leopard for all he had done and noted, with both pride and fondness, that every day he was becoming more and more the hero he had striven to be, long ago. That being the case, and with the ex-convict's injuries also preventing him from training, Shifu had decided he had earned some time off—time to himself, time to spend in recreation, relaxation, or just plain fun.

 

Completely aside from the fact that even now, with as far as he'd come, Tai Lung really had no idea how to _have fun_ and was at a loss what to do, he didn't truly feel he deserved it. "Yes…I know. We stopped Vachir, we ended all those grisly killings, I helped an old enemy—and myself—find peace. So why don't I feel like a hero?"

 

"Why don't you?" It was a genuinely puzzled and wondering question, not sarcastic or rhetorical. It was in fact the same question Wei Chang had asked when the snow leopard had sat by his bedside—the elephant surprisingly torn up inside about what he'd been certain Vachir would do to them all when he caught them, while the feline had reassured him repeatedly by stressing how the rhino was now dead and could never hurt anyone again.

 

The relief in Chang's face and voice had been palpable, and while the builder didn't seem willing quite yet to completely forgive the ex-convict, he had seemed a bit confused as to why the former scourge would deny the heroism of what he had done at Chorh-Gom. Even Zeng, who had joined in on the apologies for not telling them of his kidnapper, once he knew Vachir was gone and this Heian Chao's power was broken so that his family was no longer in danger, did not understand why Tai Lung did not see himself as heroic for standing up to such an evil force.

 

Tai Lung turned away from her again, wincing slightly at the pain in his side, to gaze once more at the Golden Spear. He spoke slowly, feeling his way toward a conclusion, an insight, even as he also felt weighed down by so much sorrow and regret, both for the past and the present.

 

"Because…I may have done the right thing, but I didn't do it for the right reason. At least not at first. I went to Chorh-Gom, not just to save the Valley and the empire, but to get revenge on Vachir for what he did to me. I tried to get you all to stay behind, not just because I thought Po needed the protection or I couldn't protect you, but because I didn't want any of you to know what I'd suffered. Because I selfishly didn't want you, especially, to get hurt or killed for my sake."

 

That had to be what it was, of course, the fact he needed all of them, even Tigress, to be around so as to stand up for him, defend him, and convince others that he was truly trying to redeem himself. It had to be selfishness, because everyone knew monsters were selfish. _And I've had it beaten into me long enough now by Monkey, Chang, Xiulan, and more that I'm a monster. About time I finally admit it._

 

Tigress moved closer, coming up beside him, and he could hear the determination, intensity, and vehemence in her voice without having to look at her face. "So? What's wrong with that? If Vachir had done those things to me, I would have been just as eager for vengeance—remember, I'm the one who couldn't have forgiven him! And if you wanted to keep…those you love…from being harmed, that isn't selfish at all. It's admirable, and wonderful."

 

Closing his eyes, he hung his head and shook it slightly before opening his eyes again to look at his paws. When he spoke, his voice was bleak. "But that is not the way of a true kung fu warrior. And it was because of my need for revenge, because I would do anything to keep you safe, that Chao was able to influence me as he did. If I'd been in better control of my emotions…if I had gone into this with only a determination to see goodness and justice done, to stop Vachir simply because honor demanded it, then I would've realized what was going on. I would've been able to tell you all, to warn you, before it was too late.

 

"Hell, if I hadn't been so damned stubborn, and admitted Vachir could still be alive, we might've saved all those people. Chang would still have his sight...and his son." He glanced at Tigress's concerned face, noticing how it seemed blurry and fuzzy through his welling tears. "We could've stopped Monkey. Mantis wouldn't be dead now. It's all my fault."

 

"Oh, Tai Lung…" she breathed. Immediately she was there, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, the other paw grasping his and squeezing tightly. "You mustn't blame yourself, or second-guess yourself. It was everyone's fault. None of us saw the warning signs either…we may not have known of Chao and what he could do, but we must have been idiots not to see Monkey was acting very strangely. I suppose Chao could have been clouding our minds, too…but we can't blame him for everything. We could not see it…because we did not wish to, I suppose. All of us have known Monkey longer than you…longer even than each other. It was too difficult to accept what he was becoming, what he might do…"

 

She took his chin and lifted it so she could look him in the eyes. "In any event, what happened really was all Chao's fault in the end. Never forget that. We will find him, and we will make him pay, the same as the Wu Sisters. They aren't going to get away with what they've done. Remember your oath to Vachir."

 

Sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his paw, he quickly blinked away the tears and stood up straight and tall. Her words were true and gave him hope, and yet… "I know. You're right, of course. But…" He glanced once more at the Golden Spear. "You know the legend, don't you?"

 

"Yes." Understandably, Tigress sounded confused by the abrupt change of subject.

 

"Well, the thing of it is…" He swallowed, sighed, and forced the words out. "It doesn't matter that Chao was behind all this, that he was fooling and using all of us, that I helped save Vachir, in the end. Because…I know something, deep down, where I can't deny it or hide from it." He pointed at the spear. "My motives, my reasons, my heart weren't pure at all, at any point in this. I couldn't have carried that weapon into battle, no matter how much I might've wanted to."

 

He snorted derisively. "Who am I kidding? It wouldn't just have burned me…after all I did during my rampage, it would have bloody immolated me, 'til I was nothing but bone and ash. I…I'll never be good enough to carry it, I'll never be a real hero…just a villain who can't ever make up for what he's done…"

 

Tigress stared at him, mouth working soundlessly. Apparently she couldn't come up with a proper rebuttal, probably because she knew deep down, just as he did, that the truth of his words could not be denied. But another voice suddenly spoke from Tai Lung's other side, and though gentle and understanding, the words nevertheless had a core of iron to them.

 

"You sell yourself too short, son. And hold yourself to an impossibly high standard none of us could ever achieve." Master Shifu stepped out of the shadowy alcove which held the hall leading toward the dormitory, hands clasped behind his back and pace slow and methodical. The set of his ears, and the way his mustache and goatee hung from his face, all denoted resignation and sadness.

 

"You always have, it has always been your greatest failing. Not even Master Oogway was perfect, or believed he was, whatever you may have thought to the contrary. Goodness and virtue are something we all strive to, but rarely ever attain, at least not in a single lifetime."

 

He waved a tiny hand at the Golden Spear. "Do you know what I think? I think that spear was never meant to be wielded in battle. It exists solely as a symbol, something to admire, to emulate. Something to challenge us, drive us, help us succeed. But it was also never meant to be an anchor dragging us down. It is an ideal we must all acknowledge and seek, but we must always remind ourselves it is not achieving it that proves our worth." He paused meaningfully, his voice firm. "It is in trying to chase after that dream at all."

 

Tai Lung was silent for a long time, digesting this, struggling with it, fighting the sense that something about this was wrong. That he _should_ believe claiming and using the spear was possible, that purity of heart and goodness of soul were real states of being and not just ephemeral lotus-dreams. Above all, that even if Shifu was right, he still did not deserve to be called a hero for even trying to succeed. He still gave in to his rage and hatred while fighting Vachir.

 

He was still reminded that, for all the rhino's terrible treatment of him, he had done things just as reprehensible and immoral during his rampage. That even though the commander was free, and the murders had stopped, they had lost Mantis, and Chao and the Sisters were still out there, plotting his downfall. That he may have tried…but he still failed, in the end.

 

Dropping his paws along his sides, he found his fingers brushing the familiar haft of the hammer in his belt—he hadn't taken it with him to Chorh-Gom of course, that would have been foolish and ridiculous, but as soon as he'd returned to the Valley he had put it back where it seemed, increasingly, to belong...as if by this gesture he could somehow make up for all he had suffered, all he had caused...the costs that had been paid.

 

Words floated back to him: _With this in your hand, you can create as well as destroy... A man who carries this can bring together towns and families in long-lasting peace... undo the damage you have wrought... need to be rebuilt..._ Was it even possible, now? Whether or not he could carry this spear, could he carry that burden...be what Po and Shifu, and even Tigress now, believed he could be?

 

A paw on his shoulder made him look up from his self-recrimination, only to see Tigress smile reassuringly at him. "Hey. Why don't we go down to the village and have dinner, hmm? My treat, to make up for all those dates you took me on while we were coming home." She didn't comment, thankfully, that due to all those excursions he was now broke and couldn't pay for dinner even if she'd let him.

 

"All right." He swallowed against a dry throat, forced the pain and worry from his face, and looked at Shifu. Managing a small, sardonic smile, he added, "Don't worry, Master, I'll have her home before midnight."

 

"You had better," the red panda intoned ominously, before his own lips twitched in a smirk.

 

He began to turn away, but as he stepped past the shrine to Oogway, a strange thought came to Tai Lung—one he knew was absolutely right to speak aloud, even though he had no idea why or where it had come from. "By the way, Master…you might want to keep Oogway's staff with you from now on."

 

Shifu paused, looking back with a quirked brow. "Any particular reason, my student?"

_Because Oogway and I repaired it with our chi, so it must be quite powerful now. Because you just might need it to stop Heian Chao. Because if anyone deserves to carry it, it's you._

 

All Tai Lung said aloud though was, "I…don't know, really. I just have a feeling you're going to need it. We all will." Which was true.

 

The red panda shrugged, then nodded amiably enough as he hopped up on the pedestal to fetch the old walking stick. "Very well, if you say so. I certainly don't see the harm in it." He narrowed his eyes. "But don't you dare think this gives you permission to call me old and crotchety."

 

"Wouldn't dream of it," the snow leopard said blandly, and with complete honesty. After all, Shifu couldn't read his thoughts or control what he contemplated there. _I can call you old and crotchety all I like_ — _in my head._

 

As he hurried to catch up with Tigress at the Jade Palace doors, she shot him a very odd look. "You 'had a feeling'? Is it just me, or are you getting stranger every day?"

 

"Heh. Must be the panda again. Quite strange. Yes…" _Oogway, if you're giving me subtle hints again, try not to make me look like a complete imbecile in the process. I'd appreciate it. Really._

                                                                      

* * *

 

Dinner was…unusual, to say the least. Not in the restaurant Tigress chose, the dishes they ordered, or their interactions at the table—these were quite normal, fitting, and enjoyable. It was the fact, in spite of everything, all the other patrons still eyed Tai Lung askance, as if they expected him to suddenly leap from the table and, either for no reason at all or using poorly cooked food or bad service as a pretext, begin a new rampage right there in the dining room.

 

It was that just as many people were eyeing Tigress oddly too, their looks ranging from bemused, to pitying, to outright hostile. And it was that everything he had been thinking up at the palace had still not left him…that on some level, he did not feel he deserved any of this. Not Shifu's trust, not Po's friendship, and certainly not Tigress's love. Assuming he really had that, and her ardor hadn't simply cooled into friendship and a warrior bond now that their lust had been sated.

 

He knew why the patrons were so befuddled and out-of-sorts, and while part of him worried that dining so openly like this would cause a scene, even turn the people of the Valley against the leader of the Four rather than gaining their support for him, he didn't let it bother him too much. By now he knew everyone's opinions of him were likely set in stone. He could not live his life based on what others thought; either they would change how they felt, or they wouldn't, but that didn't change the fact he had to keep doing the right thing, every day, for the rest of the time the gods gave him on earth.

 

He also knew why he still found it hard not to pinch himself at his good fortune with Tigress…why he refused to believe he was earning her respect and his heroism no matter what she and Shifu said. Because he had done such wrong in his life that no amount of amends would ever eliminate it…because he was convinced that someone out there, whether Chao or the gods, had it in for him, were offering him the chance at redemption, peace, love, and family only to swipe it away from him just when he believed he had everything he ever wanted, that he finally had a place to belong. It was too good to be true, it could not last…such happiness and contentment were not for him, and never would be.

 

Some things were harder to ignore and discount, it seemed.

 

Yet somehow, even without knowing she did it, Tigress helped drive all those black, morbid thoughts away. When he looked at her, instead of the contempt and hate and distrust he had always seen, he saw only kindness, solicitation, and genuine interest in his welfare. When she held his paw across the table, he felt that electric thrill he had associated with love from the beginning, and somehow the pain in his side receded until it vanished entirely, leaving him both soft and hard at the same time.

 

When she fed him noodles and they flipped off the chopsticks to slap him right in the nose, splattering his face with soy sauce, he felt not shame, but amusement and a strange giddiness—perhaps because Tigress was smiling too, or perhaps because she'd also been splashed and didn't yet realize it. _So…this is what it's like. It's better than I ever could have imagined…and yet, so simple._

 

By the time they had finished and paid, it was three hours after sunset, four hours before midnight—more than enough time to get Tigress back to the palace on schedule. It was also a beautiful, serene, moonlit night, the crescent overhead already swelling toward half, lending its silvery effulgence to the world below so that every leaf, every blade of grass, every stone sparkled, shimmered, and stood out in stark clarity. It turned Tigress's fur, where it wasn't striped, a very dark gray that made a lovely contrast to both her shining eyes and his own, brightly blazing pelt of silver-gray.

 

He hadn't seen such a night in ages, and he had never appreciated it so deeply before…though he allowed that might be because the other feline somehow made everything more lovely and wondrous to him by comparison. It made him want to run on all fours through the forests and fields of the Valley, across the rivers and up into the mountains, regardless of his injuries. It made him never want to go indoors again, to simply revel in the magical freedom of nature. Most of all, it made him never want to leave Tigress's side, to always spend every waking moment beside her on the off-chance he could see her in such matchless splendor again.

 

She didn't seem particularly eager to leave him either. As they climbed the steps from the moon bridge up to the tournament arena, Tigress suddenly drew him off to the side, instead leading him along a winding, rarely used ledge that, if they followed it far enough and his memory served him correctly, eventually led to the back door of the kitchen. It also, conveniently enough, provided a spectacular view of the Valley, its rich and verdant forests spreading far into the distance like swirls of watercolor given true life by the brush of a gifted artist, the distant lights of the village gleaming and winking at them as lanterns swung in the fitful evening breezes, and above it all, the rising moon illuminating the distant peak of Wu Dan.

 

Despite still being another two weeks until it was full again, a shimmering, nacreous path seemed to lead down out of the sky almost to where they walked, as if by some enchantment they could stroll into the welkin and visit the moon itself. Normally Tai Lung would not be prone to such ridiculous fancies, but something about this night seemed so right, so perfect, because he was with Tigress.

 

They chatted idly about inconsequential things—the foods they both loved, and whether it was a genetic feline thing or something else responsible; their favorite quotes from _The Art of War_ and Confucius; highest scores and records each had set in the kwoon; the names they'd both called Shifu behind his back when they thought he couldn't hear them, and the subsequent punishments they'd endured when it turned out he could; memorable battles they'd been involved in, and the number of suitors they'd had to fend off over the years thanks to their fame and popularity; their favorite places to visit in China, and their renewed determination to return there someday, this time together.

 

Yet at the same time, it was all very important—for it helped them to know each other better, as they had both sworn they would; it bonded them ever closer together by revealing they truly did have so much in common, that it had not all been in his head; and it simply gave new meaning to his life. Before, all he had cared about—and, he suspected, all _she_ had cared about—was kung fu. But now they both found enjoyment, delight, and pleasure in each other's company, in simple small talk, in the sort of interaction with another human being that so many…including themselves…took for granted.

 

Finally, in the middle of the ledge, at a place where the cliffside bulged out in a massive, rounded projection that their pathway wound around in a broad, flattened shelf—the same place, oddly, where (according to Tigress) Shifu and Po had argued about his fitness to be the Dragon Warrior and how he could possibly be trained—Tigress stopped. Turning to look at him, she reached out and took both his paws in hers, looking up into his downturned face.

 

"Tai Lung…I finally realized something. Or rather, I remembered it." Her voice was strange…troubled, but also more vindicated than he'd heard it in quite a while. "Do you remember when you found my doll, and we talked about my past, how I lost my parents?"

 

"Yes…" he ventured. He had no idea where she was going with this, why she was bringing it up, but he hung on her every word nevertheless.

 

"Well…it took me a long time to figure it out, but it finally came to me. Back in Shaanxi, when I was…getting over Mantis's death, and you comforted me." She paused, then removed her paw from his to rub it inside of his new shirt (still green, but silk this time), over his creamy white chest fur. "Your embrace was…familiar. As if I felt it once, long ago. Tell me…do you remember, before your rampage…did you ever help any families when disaster struck?"

 

Tai Lung paused, casting his thoughts back, trying to remember. It was so hard, so long ago…so many years of insanity, murder, suffering, and hatred lay between. But he knew Shifu, and especially Oogway, had always counseled such excursions, a way to reach out to the people and keep him humble. Apparently that last hadn't worked very well, but… His mind cleared, sharpened, as he recalled the incident Tigress just might have been referring to.

 

"Yes…yes, I think so. It was…southeast of here. Jiangxi, I think? There was an earthquake…the Valley had so much surplus food, the Emperor sent a letter asking it be delivered to those who had lost everything. Oogway took me there himself…we handed out the supplies, but there was also so many buildings that had fallen, so many who had died. I lost count of all the bodies I pulled out of the wreckage…"

 

He trailed off, and not only because it bothered him to think of this, even more than it had at the time, but because he recalled another detail with a prescience that made him gasp. "But…not everyone was dead. In one house, I found a little girl still alive, and rescued her before the ruins could fall on her. She was a tiger…"

 

"I thought so," Tigress said immediately—not with smugness or satisfaction, but relief. She reached up and put a paw to his cheek. "It was so long ago…I probably blocked it out, and you were mad for twenty years so you couldn't remember. We both forgot…but you saved me, Tai Lung. You were the one who came with Master Oogway to bring me to Bao Gu…so that when you were locked away, he made sure to send Shifu there, to find and adopt me. He knew I needed someone, just as Shifu did…that we both had voids to fill. And he also knew I had to be here, not to reject you as I thought, but to accept you. Remind you who you used to be, and could be again."

 

Breath rasping in his throat, all the snow leopard's stunned, disbelieving mind could think was, _Damn. He really **did** know what he was talking about. There **are** no accidents_. Taking her paw in his and squeezing it even as he kept it pressed to his cheek, he murmured, "Maybe I did save you…but you've more than returned the favor, Tigress. You saved me, too, by showing me how to love."

 

He started to lean in to kiss her, but she pulled her paw free to put it over his mouth. She didn't look angry or resentful, just intense. "But do you? Do you really love me?"

 

Tai Lung growled in spite of himself. "We've already been through this—"

 

"Humor me, Tai Lung. You never did answer me about Mei Ling." Again she held back his words with her fingers. For a moment he was tempted to bite them, but thought better of it. "I believe you when you say you love me. But you did show more than a bit of affection for Mei. What was that all about? How do you really feel about her?" She dropped both her eyes and voice. "I kept fighting you because I didn't want to get hurt again. But I don't want you to hurt her, either, by leaving her for me…"

 

Although he knew he shouldn't, the snow leopard laughed. "Er…I hate to break this to you, Tigress, but there isn't anything between us. Never has been, never will be."

 

"But—but what, then—?"

 

"We were faking it," he supplied casually, lightly. He knew she'd probably be mad at him for this, but he couldn't hide anything from her, not anymore. Especially not after he saw what happened when Heian Chao forced him to conceal things from others. "It was just a little show we cooked up together…with a little encouragement from Viper…to make you jealous, so you'd pursue me." He artfully pressed a finger to her nose. "And it worked."

 

For a minute that seemed like an eternity she stared at him, a wild gamut of emotions rushing across her face—disbelief, wonder, rage, shame, and vicious scorn all in quick succession. He braced himself for another slap, a punch, or even worse. But instead, she suddenly threw back her head and laughed, loud enough to echo off the cliff face and across the valley.

 

While he wondered if she'd lost her mind, she leaned against his chest, wiping away tears of mirth and holding her side as she continued to giggle and chuckle ruefully. "Oh…oh no…you _didn't_ …and I didn't even see it? Gods, I'm an idiot…" Her cheeks turned flaming for a few moments, and he didn't know if she were embarrassed at being so hoodwinked, at knowing there had been a conspiracy going on behind her back involving some of her own friends and comrades, or simply at how easily she'd fallen for it all.

 

Shaking her head at last, she observed, "It's a good thing I'm already falling for you, you furry-chested dumbass, otherwise I don't know if I ever could have forgiven you for that one."

 

He shrugged apologetically. "Well, you weren't making it very easy for me, I had to do something…even if it was desperate and insane."

 

Tigress nodded equitably, not even batting an eye as he pegged her earlier treatment of him. "So, there was never anything there? Neither of you ever felt anything?"

 

"Well…I wouldn't say that. But what I felt, it wasn't at all like what I felt for you. And I'm glad it happened." Even as she blinked, the snow leopard continued, "Before she came into the picture, you were the only woman it was even possible for me to be interested in here in the Valley. I was seeking you, I think, by default. But when she showed up, and I started realizing I had feelings for her too, well…to use your words, it made things a lot clearer.

 

"It helped me tell the difference between lust and love. In some ways, Mei Ling and I are a wonderful match…but now, having two women to choose from, it's very important that I _can_ choose. You aren't the only woman available anymore…but I still want you. It's you I choose, Tigress. Because you're the one I love."

 

By now their faces were very close together, and they were in each other's embrace, so that his scent surrounded her and all he could take in, despite the gorgeous vista behind her, was Tigress's eyes. She turned her striped face up to him, and then as she gripped his muzzle with both paws and brought it close for the passionate kiss he'd been wanting, she whispered, "I love you too, Tai Lung."

                                                                      

* * *

 

Neither of them noticed, as they lost themselves in each other's arms, touch, and taste, that a slim, black-cloaked figure perched high up on the promontory above them, in the same place where Tigress had listened to her master and Po converse. Nor did they see as the violet-eyed silhouette, who had heard every word, let out a faint sob and then turned, darting back off the slope into the forest and vanishing into the night.

 

* * *

                                                                     

The door to his dormitory room rattled softly in the darkness, the rice-paper rippling and crinkling as the wooden frame creaked open, and as he looked up and peered through the shadows, he spied a silhouette visible in the faintly streaming moonlight. A slender, shapely silhouette. Feline. And female. He couldn't identify anything further—not face, eye color, not even scent, not until she drew closer. And that fact made him extremely wary, since this whole scene was uncomfortably familiar.

 

Tai Lung watched her pull the door closed behind her. He heard a faint click in the silence, as the lock was tripped. He kept himself quiet and still on his mattress, his breathing even and rhythmic, as if he were still asleep, as he listened to her approach…the floorboards creaking beneath her weight…the sound of her own breathing, ragged and faintly rasping. But unlike the last time he'd experienced this, he felt not arousal and excitement, but a trace of fear and disbelief.

 

Would Wu Jia really dare to come here again, in exactly the same manner as she had before? Was she simply going to try and seduce him…or did she know how far things had progressed with Tigress? Had she come to kill him, to make sure that if she could not have him, the leader of the Four would not either?

 

At the last possible second, he rolled over and sat up in the same motion, paw darting out to latch onto her wrist and drag her down onto the bed with him. It only took him seconds to discover her claws were sheathed…seconds more to see her fangs in the moonlight, revealed by a suggestive, seductive smile rather than a vicious sneer.

 

Her fiery eyes glowed in the darkness, just as they had on the ledge several hours earlier, and as she settled on the bed next to him and allowed his arm to wrap around her side, Tigress purred under her breath. "It's taken me this long to see it," she whispered, almost conversationally. "But I know now you're right. We're meant to be together, we need and complete each other. The only one I've been fooling here is myself. So it's time I woke up and remembered that just because I'm a warrior, doesn't mean I can't also be a woman."

 

Licking his suddenly dry lips, the snow leopard gazed up at her—hungrily, eagerly, yet also in disbelief. He knew, this time, it could well be the real thing, not just another dream; but what if it wasn't? What if it really was Jia? Or, almost as bad, Mei Ling?

 

Tigress chuckled as she leaned down over him, taking control and pushing him onto his back as she straddled his waist. "What's the matter, Tai Lung? Cat got your tongue? Aren't you going to say anything?"

 

"What's the first thing you thought when you met me?" He narrowed his eyes, peering up at her intently.

 

She paused, looking both nettled and amused, then placed one paw on her hip as she answered. "What an arrogant asshole."

 

He blinked, then smiled, relaxing back on the bed. "All right, you pass."

 

Even as Tigress laughed softly, shaking her head in bemusement, he continued in a much lighter tone. "So what are you doing here, eh? I thought you said you weren't ready, that we had to wait."

 

"I changed my mind. A girl can do that, can't she?" She leaned down and drew her tongue along the inside of his ear, making it twitch as he moaned in shivering delight. "I'm ready after all. Although…if you _really_ don't want me here…" Grinning artfully, naughtily, she started to disengage and slide off of him and the bed.

 

Quickly he snagged her around the waist and drew her back in the same motion. "I _never_ said that," he growled lustfully. "D'you really think I could ever say no to you?"

 

"Just making sure." Looking quite content and satisfied, Tigress allowed herself to be scooped close again, but once atop him she resumed control, pressing him back firmly into the mattress and pinning him in place. Somehow, as she ground her hips to his and brought her muzzle down for another long, lingering, searing kiss, he didn't mind one bit.

 

Of their own accord it seemed, his paws slid up her body to undo the clasps of her vest and push it back off her shoulders, while hers performed a similar task with his shirt. His paws shook as he worked her trousers down, and he noticed hers did the same with his—but despite the nervousness (or was it the sheer thrill of excitement, the wonder of this discovery between them?), neither of them stopped.

 

He only brought his paws up to her face to cup her muzzle close again…its shape seemed made for him to hold…while she ran her own fingers along the curves of his pectorals, idly brushing his nipples. He hissed softly—and with an arch of his back and a slow but firm thrust, they were again one…

 

This time, they took it slow, gentle, and tender. They had a good excuse, Tai Lung's injuries, but even if he were completely recovered and in prime condition, he knew instinctively they would have chosen this anyway. Their first time had been almost bestial, a fervent and frantic rutting as both of them gave in to their animal passions and finally achieved the union and ecstasy both of them had yearned for for so long. Now that that was past, now that they had made it through the first flush of desire, something different burned inside him—and he could tell it did for her, too.

 

Now, they both wanted to make it last. Now, they wanted to truly make love. And instead of feeling as if she were a mere possession, a trophy whose pelt he could use to adorn his walls, having her clasped in the circle of his arms as they climbed the same peak of rapture seemed _right_. She was precious to him, he only wished to protect her…and now instead of vaulting toward their mutual apex, they were taking the time to scale the heights gradually, admire the view, and realize that every single plateau along the way was just as breathtaking, just as overwhelming as the highest had been.

 

There were fleeting moments, flashes of sights, sounds, and feelings he would always remember. Those ruby eyes alternately widening and squeezing shut, for the first time he could recall having no shields raised to keep him out, filled instead by vulnerability mingled with fierce hunger. Soft mewls, growls, and grunts—he wasn't even sure if they were hers or his, and at this point he didn't care anymore.

 

Her scent, as spicy and delectable as ever, only growing stronger as they rode the crests and troughs together, intertwining with his own. And the sensation of her around him, not as tight and constricting as before—which was good for her well-being even as it was a slight disappointment to him—yet it did not stop him from continuing to be as gentle, shallow, and careful in his movements as he could be…

 

When it finally ended, and they lay sprawled together, clinging to each other and cooling in the night air, Tai Lung brushed his finger along the rim of her ear, then caressed her brow as he smiled down at her. "You," he breathed, contemplative but also admiring, "are wonderful."

 

She chuckled softly, her chest still heaving as she tried to get her own breathing under control. "You weren't so bad yourself." She paused, then grinned suggestively. "In fact, I get the feeling you could do this all night."

 

The snow leopard smiled devilishly at her, even as he quite deliberately shifted his hips about, reminding her that he was indeed quite prepared to pleasure her again. "Hmm, care to find out, love?" He winked.

 

"Why not?" Tigress said after pursing her lips and pretending to think for a few moments. "It's not like we have anything to do tomorrow…and you were very quiet, no one has any idea what we've been up to…"

 

From the doorway there suddenly came a diffident cough and the clearing of a throat. The sound itself was startling enough, but the voice was clearly recognizable and made both cats freeze in place, only adding to the awkwardness of the situation.

 

"Not quiet enough, I'm afraid."

 

Both of them slowly turned their heads and looked, dreading what they would see. And, of course, there stood Master Shifu…both paws clasped behind his back, ears pricked attentively—and with a decidedly reproving scowl on his glowering face…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time I did research into Mongolian burial practices, and figured out how to compromise between them, Chinese burials, and Western sensibilities to strike an effective balance. I also referred to _Secrets of the Furious Five_ at last when it came to Monkey's backstory, quoting the line Oogway said to him yet also finding a way to weave it into what Peter the Muggle wrote in "Monkey in the Middle". (The references to Hong, Bolo, and Wen, of course, were used with permission.) The Golden Spear is referenced on the KFP website; the moment when Tai Lung tests Tigress to be sure he isn't dreaming is something of an homage to an exchange between Wolverine and Cyclops in the first _X-Men_ movie; and I trust I don't need to explain why, in the 'story of the movie', Monkey was mute, Tigress was a man, and Tai Lung was a ravening, mindless beast. ;)
> 
> Oh, and as for the little development in Tigress and Tai's past history...let's just say I took great pleasure in completely inverting the usual assumption about his connection to her parents.


	33. Foolish Assumptions

 

Only the fact that the thin blanket they had draped over themselves was all that stood between his adopted father's eyes and the very naked bodies of two very embarrassed felines kept Tai Lung from immediately leaping out of bed to take drastic action—slamming the door in the red panda's face, perhaps (how did he get in? Did he have a key to every lock in the bunkhouse?), or leaping out the window into the underbrush.

 

It wasn't that he had anything to be ashamed of, he thought defensively. Both he and Tigress were mature, responsible, consenting adults. _Well, most of the time._ And while Shifu had been taking strides toward becoming a much better, or at least fairer, parent to them, he still had absolutely no right to take any sort of moral high road or disciplinarian action with them!

 

Yet somehow that didn't change the incontrovertible facts: he had just been caught doing something that was considered, if not inappropriate, then at least impolite to be engaged in where others could be aware of it…and that he was extremely and undeniably aroused, in front of the man who had diapered him as a baby but whom he had firmly not allowed to see him unclad since he turned thirteen.

 

Not that that was even the worst of it. There was of course Tigress's equally strong sense of mortification to consider…and that now, unequivocally, so there could be no denial of it, the cat was out of the bag regarding their relationship. Prior to this neither of them had admitted their feelings in front of anyone but each other; the only one who knew of their declaration of love, in fact, was Po, who had been awake when they'd returned from dinner, had been absolutely elated at the news (Tai Lung didn't think he could ever erase the memory of the panda doing a jiggling dance of victory from his mind, or his little chant about them kissing in a tree), and had demanded every detail of their time together. For all he knew, that was the reason for Po planning his own dinner tonight with Zhuang and Xiulan, if it wasn't simply to celebrate the end of the murderous siege of the Valley...

 

In any event, his and Tigress’s exchange on the pinnacle in Chorh-Gom, if it had even been truly heard and remembered amongst all the violence and drama, could have been chalked up to hyperbole, sarcasm, or overemphasis. All their other interactions had been on the order of grief counseling, strengthening bonds of friendship, apologizing for their past contentions, or warrior comradeship. And it wasn't as if the red panda were known for being quick on the uptake—on the contrary, Shifu was notorious for seeing what he wished to see, blocking out what he didn't want to contemplate, being blind to the truth, and misinterpreting rather obvious warning signs.

 

But now there was no possible way he could fail to see it, no way to put a different spin on what was right in front of his face.

 

Very slowly, as unobtrusively as possible, Tai Lung tried to disengage from Tigress beneath the blanket. There were so many ways this seemed poised to go wrong. How many avenues of attack could Shifu come up with?

_It's the wrong time to start a relationship. You don't have permission to court her. I adopted both of you_ — _it would be disgusting, immoral, an affront to the gods. You're old enough to be her father. You don't have permission to court her. The Valley will be in an uproar when they find out you two have compromised your responsibilities, your objectivity, to be together. Heian Chao will now have even more reason to mark Tigress for death, as will the Wu Sisters. You're thinking with the wrong head, and it's going to get one of you killed. And did I mention you don't have my permission?_

 

Forcing down the rising sense of panic, and its twin, equally powerful mirror of growing fury at these unfair, harsh judgments, the snow leopard held up both paws, trying to instill calm. "Er…Master Shifu…Father…um, I can explain…"

 

"Oh, no need to explain." The words, and the dismissive gesture he made with one hand, brushed the matter aside as unimportant, excusing the breach of etiquette—but they were at odds with the frosty tone and utterly cold look in those pale blue eyes. "Everything is quite perfectly clear. _This_ is what you were referring to back in Tavan Bogd." This last was said to Tigress, although Shifu never took his gaze from Tai Lung.

 

The striped feline, in contrast to both of them, had recovered her dignity and poise—and her temper, for even as she sat up with her half of the blanket tucked around her to preserve her modesty, she growled at their mutual master and father. "Yes. Yes, it was. And I fail to see how this is any business of _yours_."

 

Now he looked at her, and while his expression softened a fraction of a degree, he remained as stiff, prim, and judgmental as ever. "Of course it is my business; it affects life here at the palace and in this Valley, it could well influence the course of our future battles with Heian Chao, and it is hardly something the Emperor or the rest of China will overlook. You are the leader of the Furious Five—"

 

"Four," Tigress whispered harshly, painfully.

 

For a moment Shifu faltered, ears drooping, but then he continued on gamely. "—and he is a murderer, destroyer, and vicious madman hated throughout the empire. Reformed, repentant, doing everything in his power to turn his life around and become a true hero, but still…as we have all received recent lessons in, there are some who will never forget, and it is their opinions and decisions that will determine what happens next. Do you really want to give them _more_ ammunition to think the worst of Tai Lung, or to believe you have betrayed your principles and turned your back on the Jade Palace?"

 

"From what you say," Tigress spat, "they will think that anyway, no matter what we do! And you know what, Master? I…don't…care."

 

"You don't care what they think? Or you don't care what the consequences of this are?"

 

"The first one," she replied immediately. "Of course I care what happens to the Valley, and the empire. But if I cared what other people thought of me, well I never would have become a kung fu warrior in the first place, now would I?" Tigress snorted contemptuously before her voice fell, losing some of its anger but none of its intensity. "Besides…what I'm doing isn't _betraying_ my principles, it's being true to them. Maybe for the first time in a long time. "

 

Silence fell over the shadow-draped, faintly moonlit room as Shifu digested these words, their undeniable truth and the serious determination in his daughter. Into this breach, Tai Lung finally inserted himself, unable to keep the growl from his own voice. "Look, Master, we've already been through all this, believe me. We knew what we were getting into, if I hadn't been quite aware of it Tigress would've pounded it into my skull—in fact she did anyway." In spite of himself he shot her a brief flicker of a smile. "So don't think we aren't prepared for all this. Or that both of us aren't ready to weather any damn objection anyone tries to make."

 

Unable to help himself as he felt his own temper rising, he clenched a fist until the knuckles cracked, barely restraining himself from shaking it under Shifu's nose—or once again snatching him off the floor, this time to glare at him, eye to eye, inches apart. How dare he…how _dare_ he barge in here like this, making moral judgments and inserting himself where he wasn't wanted? It was so like him…he hadn't changed one bit… "So why don't you get the _bloody_ hell out of my room before I throw you out? Or haven't you ever heard of a little thing called privacy and common courtesy?"

 

Amazingly, and infuriatingly, the red panda ignored him—he even _dared_ to lift a peremptory palm toward him to cut him off and ward him away!—only keeping his attention fixed on Tigress. As the snow leopard seethed and roiled, counting to himself and desperately trying to drive his anger down into his _chi_ as he had learned at Wu Dan, Shifu regarded the striped feline penetratingly. Then, at last, he spoke. "Is what he said true? And what you said? You truly do know what is at stake, how this could go terribly wrong, what will be asked of you and what you must do? And you are willing to face it all, no matter what the cost may be?"

 

These last words were rather ominous, and the sense that this was not a threat from Shifu's quarter but a reference to Chao or even something more amorphous and ambiguous, chilled Tai Lung's anger. But even though she looked shaken, Tigress did not relent, only drawing herself up straight and clenching her own fists. "Damn it, didn't you hear me the first time? _Yes!_ I love him, Master, and I don't care who knows it anymore—Chao likely already does by now, so what does it matter? For good or for ill, for better or for worse, I know what I know. So if you truly do love me, if you have any ounce of compassion and generosity in you, _don't_ get in my way…"

 

Tai Lung couldn't help but nod firmly, fiercely, in vindication…even as his fury faded almost entirely into admiration, awe, and of course, an even deeper and more abiding love. She had said it aloud, proudly and defiantly, and to Shifu of all people. She truly meant it, she loved him…and it was all because he'd shown her who he really was, who he could be and wanted to be. Because he had earned her respect, and each of them had seen who the other was. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world. It even surpassed what he'd imagined it would feel like to be granted the Dragon Scroll.

 

For several moments, the red panda regarded Tigress thoughtfully, wordlessly, and Tai Lung couldn't even hazard a guess as to what he intended to say. Then at last, he drew himself up and clasped his hands with steepled fingers in front of him as he became stern once more. "I see. If that is truly your decision, and you will hold to this course no matter what I or anyone else says, then I only have three words for you…"

 

He was certain they would be _"Get out now"_ , _"I disown you"_ , or something equally callous and hateful. He was fully prepared to defend Tigress's honor, to attack Shifu with words or fists so as to fight for this very real, undeniable love that the world seemed determined to ensure they could never have. But then, abruptly, something flickered in the red panda's eyes…the corner of his mouth twitched into a wry, fond smirk…and he spoke in a completely different tone of voice: one filled with tenderness, love, and genuine happiness. "Congratulations, my daughter." And he winked.

 

It took several moments for this to sink in. When it did, Tigress was the first one to blink and furrow her brow. "What?"

 

Somehow, even though he was in very real danger of receiving a smackdown from his own adopted children, Shifu was smiling ever more broadly, a playful twinkle gleamed in his eyes, and he even began to chuckle openly. "It's a simple statement, Tigress, usually given when one is proud of and happy for someone. I'll grant you it's something I've rarely, if ever, said to you, but I intend to rectify that. And you should at least know what the words mean."

 

While Tai Lung was staring at the panda, his resentment and wrath slowly turning into confusion and disbelief— _Has Chao taken control of him too? This can't be Shifu, he's smiling!_ —Tigress made a strange noise, something between a growl and a quickly stifled snort of laughter. "Yes. Yes, I do. But why are you saying them? I thought you were furious with us."

 

"Now what ever made you think that?" he asked innocently.

 

"Shifu…"

 

Inexplicably, their master began to laugh. "Forgive me for my little deception, daughter…son." His gaze took in the flummoxed snow leopard as well. "I knew you were afraid I'd go on…how would Mantis have put it…a 'roaring rampage of revenge', the moment I found out about what you two were up to. So I decided, just on a lark, to play the role to the hilt, just to give you something to laugh about in the days to come. Gods know we all need it."

 

He paused as both of the felines glowered at him, neither of them laughing, and then coughed uncomfortably, his good humor fading into contrition. "It…seems I need a little work on my comedic timing. I'm sorry…still, you should have seen your faces…"

 

Before either of them could launch into a new round of insults and threats, Shifu held up both hands placatingly. "Seriously…why would I possibly be upset by this turn of events? To see my son finally caring for and loving someone other than himself…my daughter no longer living only for her kung fu, no longer so alone and cut off from her emotions…to see both of you opening up, expressing yourselves, finding solace with another, after I had mistakenly raised you to be hard, strong, and solitary… Well, it warms my heart more than you can ever know. And yes," he added sardonically, "I do actually have a heart, as difficult as that may be to believe. As much as I have attempted to hide it away and indeed pretend it doesn't exist, so that it cannot be broken."

 

Ignoring the mournfulness in his tone and expression, Tai Lung looked, bewildered, at his lover and found the same look mirrored on her face. On the one paw, it was indeed very good to know that their father did not, in fact, intend to fight them tooth and claw on this, that he had given his blessing and had simply been playing with them, in his own diabolical way. _Hell, the fact he was willing to tease us at all is a huge improvement for him. When's the last time he ever laughed, made a joke, enjoyed himself like a normal person?_

 

On the other paw, he wasn't sure if this _was_ an improvement, especially if the red panda insisted on being so terribly evil about his humor. The more he thought about it, as his temper cooled, the funnier it started to seem—rather like something he'd have done in Shifu's place, so apparently that was something else his father had taught him. But he wasn't altogether sure it was wise to pursue this manner of lightening up, not when Tigress likely did _not_ find it amusing in the slightest…

 

Finally forcing himself to move from his stiff, frozen posture, the snow leopard started donning his trousers under cover of the blanket while he narrowed his eyes sourly. "That was low, even for you, Master. So you barged in here to get your jollies by putting the fear of the gods into us, is that it? Or did you actually mean what you said?"

 

Annoyance flickered on the panda's face, but then he only sighed. "I suppose I deserved that. No, I did mean some of what I said…as you well know, you two will indeed be facing conflict from all quarters—at the very least a healthy dose of shock and scorn, if not outright malice. I wanted to be sure you were truly devoted to each other, that this is not merely a tempestuous love affair that will end as soon as you two have burned out your ardor—or the moment either of you run into more difficulties than you expected. But Tigress gave the answer I truly hoped to hear."

 

He smiled warmly at the striped feline despite her crossed arms and unwavering glare. "And that makes me happier than I have any right to be. You two have found each other…all on your own, without anyone forcing you or requiring it of you. Your love was proof against Heian Chao's _chi_ manipulation, or else you would have fallen prey to his influence, as the rest of us have to varying degrees. It saved you from certain death, it saved Commander Vachir from his torment and may well have granted him a chance at redemption he otherwise would not have had. It could even be argued it indirectly saved Monkey…and it certainly has made it far easier for you to be forgiving of him. This is a joyous and wonderful thing, something to be celebrated."

 

He paused, his eyes twinkling again, and then he said, utterly deadpan, "Not to mention, think how beautiful the cubs are going to be."

 

Tigress choked, while the snow leopard could feel his cheeks going such a deep, burning scarlet he was surprised his fur didn't catch on fire. It didn't matter that, initially at least, he himself had chosen to pursue the striped feline for the sake of passing on his legacy to future generations—hearing this sort of thing from _his old father_ was not appealing in the least. _It's bad enough he caught us in the act…now we know he's actively **thinking** about us doing it, hoping we will_— _ugh, no, I **refuse** to think about it…_

 

While his thoughts nattered on at himself, trying to drive out images of Shifu poring over scrolls of baby names, slipping Tigress fertility herbs with her morning tea, learning to knit booties under Viper's supervision, or heaven forbid questioning Tai Lung on his, er, _technique_ , the panda was now undeniably beaming. "I can't wait to dandle them on my knee, I have always wanted grandchildren…" He turned around in the doorway to depart, chuckling to himself, but then he stopped and looked back with a paternal glare.

 

"That does _not_ mean, however, that I wish to be aware of what you're doing at all hours of the night. Nor is this a good time to begin raising a family, I would think you are well aware. So I suggest you see about procuring a little something to nip that in the bud…for now. And do try to keep it down…" And with that, he had darted out into the hall, closing the door firmly behind him.

 

For several moments the room was silent while the two felines alternately stared at each other and the rice-paper panel. Finally Tai Lung ventured to say, "Did we fall into a hole in reality when I wasn't looking? Or fall asleep and cross into our dreams, perhaps?"

 

In spite of herself, Tigress chuckled. "It does seem like it, doesn't it? But no, however hard we find it to believe, that was, in fact, Master Shifu and not his evil twin…or would that be his good twin, in this case?" She shook herself, with the air of one firmly reapplying herself to logic, reality, and the here and now. "The point is, I agree: that was something I didn't expect."

 

Tai Lung nodded solemnly…but then he slid over beside her on the bed, wrapping his spotted arm around her—marveling anew at how it seemed to belong there, and she in his embrace—while he smiled. "Actually, no: the point is, that's one hurdle we don't have to worry about anymore. He's not going to cause any trouble for us…in fact, he's happy for us." He smirked. "Not that we _need_ his permission, or anything…"

 

"Certainly not," she replied archly, even as she responded in kind, her arm snaking around his broad shoulders and bringing his muzzle down for another sultry kiss…

 

After several breathless minutes of this activity, however, and just when he had every intention of divesting himself of his trousers again so he could take her by the wrists and pin her down on her back, the striped feline sighed and gently but firmly pushed him away as she sat up. "I hate to say it, though, but he was right about one thing. With Heian Chao and the Wu Sisters out there, this would not be a good time to bring a cub into the world. We don't dare put it in so much danger…"

 

Understandably, the snow leopard let out an anguished groan of dismay and reluctance, but even so he still obeyed, sitting back and keeping his paws (and other parts of him) to himself. "Damn it…you're right, of course." He had never brought harm to a child and he wasn't about to start out now—especially not his own. Still, he couldn't help giving her a slightly petulant look. "But…does that mean we have to stop…?"

 

The look she gave him was so knowing and deprecating it made him want to sink through the floor—yet also, suggestive and heated enough to make his heart flutter and his groin throb. He squirmed, for more reasons than one. "No. It just means we have to be careful. And…it means you need to go and get me some herbs to take, for birth control."

 

It popped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Me? Why _me_?"

 

To her credit, Tigress only gave him an amused, clever smirk. "You have to ask?"

 

He knew he was digging his own grave, but… "Yes, actually I do. What's stopping you from going down to the village to get it? Last time I checked, you're not an invalid anymore, while I happen to be the one still recovering from injuries." Crossing his arms resentfully, he artfully stuck out his tongue. "Besides, isn't it a bit more likely you know more about this sort of thing than I do?"

 

Now her glare was back in full force, though she also seemed exasperated. "Just because I'm a woman? Turn off the chauvinism for a bit, and just think about that one. I'm a kung fu fighter, not a doctor, and up 'til now I haven't had any intention of getting involved with a man, let alone to that extent. What would I know about this? Also, in case you'd forgotten, just because I don't care what others think doesn't mean I want to deliberately provoke a response. If you go down to the village, there's several eligible ladies you might be buying for…but if I go, it'll be obvious at once who I need it for. We should avoid that, if at all possible."

 

Crestfallen, as well as extremely embarrassed at this prospect, Tai Lung had to admit she had some very good reasons he hadn't thought of. But just as he was about to nod contritely, Tigress smiled again, this time with far too much sweetness and innocence. "And anyway, you're the one who can't keep it in his pants, so you're the one who gets to make sure that's _all_ you put in me."

 

A pause, rife with meaning, and then he grumbled, low and sullen as he hunched his shoulders in defeat. "…it's a good thing I love you."

 

"Yes, isn't it though?"

 

What made it even worse however was that this wasn't the limit of his humiliation—for after he had gotten dressed and slipped out into the hallway of the darkened bunkhouse, he found Shifu wasn't the only one who had been awake, nor the only one who'd figured out what was up. For almost as soon as he'd shut the door softly behind him and taken a light step down the creaking floorboards, he heard someone clear their throat, then a soft female voice address him. "And just where might you be going off to at this hour, hmm?"

 

Turning around and looking down, he saw Mei Ling leaning easily against the wooden support between her room, which was directly across the hall from the snow leopard's, and Po's. And at her feet, having emerged from her own chamber next to Tigress's, was Viper. The mountain cat had a very cocky, self-satisfied look on her face, while the serpent looked artfully guileless—and, in what he supposed was a welcome change from the last two weeks, both amused and kind rather than suspicious and, well, venomous.

 

Drawing himself up to his full height, he adopted a vaguely superior and lofty tone to match his dignified posture. "If you ladies must know, there's something I need to fetch from the village before it gets any later. A matter of extreme importance, life and death, you know. So, _if_ you don't mind…" He started to step past them.

 

In almost the same motion, Viper extended her tail tip across the hallway to trip him up and Mei Ling pushed off from the post to block his path with her arm, leaning casually on the other side of the passage now. He was, of course, forced to halt. "Life and death?" The mountain cat grinned slyly. "Well I suppose it _would_ be, at that, since from what I heard, Tigress is going to feed you your spleen if you don't bring back what she sent you for. And if she doesn't, Shifu will."

 

"What? I don't know what you're talking about. I—" Flicking his gaze back and forth between the two women, and seeing that neither was willing to back down (or cease grinning openly at him), he finally gave in and dropped his chin to his chest. "Damn it. Fine, you win, I'm at the mercy of my father and my lover. But don't you _dare_ think that means I've gone soft, or that I'm going to be a hen-pecked husband! No sir, not this cat!" He stood straight and true again in obscure pride, chin jutted out pugnaciously, fists clenched.

 

The Li Dai master and the ribbon-dancer exchanged a long, knowing look. Then, as if he weren't even there, Mei Ling smirked and drawled, "Two guesses which of them _really_ wears the pants in this relationship, and the first one doesn't count."

 

"Nuh-uh, I'm not taking that bet," Viper retorted, even as she smiled fondly at Tai Lung. "He's got it _bad_ , doesn't he? It's so _cute_ …"

 

"Adorable."

 

"Must have been love at first sight, for him to put up with this."

 

"Well, you already know my views." The mountain cat pursed her lips and winked bawdily.

 

Tai Lung groaned audibly and closed his eyes, running his paw down over his face. "Please…in the name of all that's decent and right, could you, perhaps, take pity on a man?"

 

Viper and Mei Ling looked at each other again. "If we _have_ to…" they said in chorus, and then both burst out laughing.

 

When they were through, and the snow leopard knew he was once again a seething crimson, the mountain cat finally strolled over to his side, rubbed a paw against his cheek, and then gave him a quick hug. "I'm sorry, we couldn't resist…but we really are happy for you. You two were meant for each other, everyone can see it now!"

 

The serpent nodded, lifting her tail to wrap around his free paw in lieu of a squeezing hand. "I've seen it since we raised the Thread of Hope. It really is romantic, Tai Lung. About the only good thing to think about now…" Her expression darkened and her eyes dropped to the floor as she hissed softly, but soon she was all smiles again. "I'm so glad we could help you get together."

 

Mei Ling nodded and disengaged from the snow leopard, bending over to extend one paw to the serpent. "Mission accomplished?"

 

"And how." Viper smacked her tail gently across the upturned palm pad.

 

Tai Lung, watching this, found himself very grateful these two females had been on his side, rather than working at cross-purposes with him. He was also rather afraid, though he'd never admit it. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke up again. "Er…thank you, ladies, yes I do appreciate _all_ your help. But in case you've forgotten…me, a place I have to be, Tigress impatiently waiting?"

 

The mountain cat nodded, looking rather embarrassed herself now, and stepped out of his way so he could head down the cobbled path toward the arena and the stairs. As she did so, she asked off-handedly, "So what _do_ you have to get that's so urgent?"

 

Gritting his teeth manfully, he told her.

 

Mei Ling blinked…stared at him in stunned silence for several moments…and then she was the one to turn a delicate pink, soon descending into blazing scarlet.

 

While Tai Lung grinned and chuckled in turn, Viper gave him an inscrutable look, then crisply said, "Three streets west of Mr. Ping's, south four blocks, right-hand side of the street. There's a sign with a plum blossom over the door, you can't miss it."

 

He raised an eyebrow at her. "And just how do you know that, Mistress Viper?"

 

A demure, enigmatic smile appeared on her rouged lips. "A girl has to have _some_ secrets. Now, shoo."

 

"You know, if Mantis were here, he'd be having a field day with all this. You're lucky I'm nowhere near as perverted as he was. Spares you a lot of suffering, you know." Tai Lung didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

 

Viper gazed at him silently for a few moments, then rested her tail tip gently on his paw. "I miss him, too. Now, _get going_ , before the place closes."

                                                                       

* * *

 

It had gone wrong. Everything, all his great plans, had gone wrong. Even now, two weeks after his shameful defeat in Chorh-Gom, after he had recovered the strength and _chi_ which had been stripped from him by the death of Vachir and the sudden cessation of agony, fear, and despair flowing to him from the house of Wei Chang, Heian Chao could not understand or accept how this could be.

 

He had accounted for everything, every contingency, every possible permutation of events, choices, and emotions. While admittedly not every eventuality had granted him as much power and conquest as the denouements he had described to his servants at the Huangtu Plateau, in the end he had determined the means by which, no matter how the interactions played out, he could still be victorious. So many alternate possibilities: Tai Lung possessed, Tai Lung held captive and tortured once more, Tai Lung dead and raised again, a revenant powered by the snow leopard's _chi_ as well as his own and therefore an unstoppable juggernaut.

 

Tigress driven to murder the spotted feline in response to the slaying of the pathetic Dragon Warrior, Crane driven mad with jealousy so as to blind and eviscerate and hamstring his hated feline rival, his unfaithful love, and his friends alike. The idiotic messenger goose, Zeng…on whom he had lain an aura of dark _chi_ , so that when he brought Vachir's message, his very presence would enable Chao to influence everyone (but especially Tai Lung) into instinctively acting on their rage and suspicions...but also delivering deceptive tidings from Chen, instilling false hope in reinforcements that would never come…all while murmuring and whispering endlessly in Shifu's ear until he in his arrogance exiled his own son, ordered his execution, disbanded the Five and sent them to the far corners of the empire.

 

The Dragon Warrior himself, swayed and corrupted by Tai Lung's poisonous, narrow-minded view of the world until he became a willing ally in another rampage, complicit in countless crimes and atrocities as he overzealously sought justice for his friend and answers about his own past which no one would give him…ironically, proving he took after his ancestry more than he could know. Or even Shifu and the rest of the Five held prisoner by Monkey, subjected to even harsher and more twisted blandishments than Tai Lung had been, until they gave in and became Chao's willing and even eager accomplices, just to escape the pain and horror.

 

All this and more had occurred to the _chi_ master, he had plotted it all out well in advance, and had already begun to bring much of it to pass—it was why he had first influenced, then inhabited Monkey, so as to spread a plague of hate, suspicion, cruelty, and darkness outward from the simian, affecting any and everyone he touched or interacted with. It had spread to encompass the Valley of Peace through the fear and horror which gripped the people as each new body was discovered in all its bloody, wicked glory, until neighbor began turning on neighbor, doors and shutters were locked and barred, and all had cast aspersion and contempt on everyone around them, but most especially Tai Lung.

 

It had directed people such as Shen Xiulan and Wei Chang to become steeped in their hatred, to defy all common sense and let their entrenched prejudices turn them to moral judgments and self-righteous acts which only made them bearers of his standard everywhere they went. Though they did not know it, it had even guided the Wu Sisters in their actions, particularly by inflaming Jia's lust to obsessive proportions. And of course it had fostered the tension and contention, the broken bonds of friendship; the secrets and misconceptions, the reticent inability to confess knowledge and true motivations; and the old grudges and complaints, amongst the Furious Five and Tai Lung.

 

All of this, in one way or another, should have been sufficient, it should have left them all ripe for the plucking. It should have made it far too easy to put the snow leopard right where he wanted him: abandoned and alone, consumed by hatred, vengeance, and madness, Vachir's murderer or his slave, Xiu's ally or broken pet.

 

But somehow, it had gone wrong.

 

Stalking back and forth, increasingly erratic and frantic, across the stone floor of his sanctum, until his black cloak of shadows was almost cast aside so that his flaring wings could bear him aloft, Heian Chao clamped his beak closed so as to hold back the bloodthirsty, predatory, full-throated scream of rage he so longed to release. _No. **No!**_ He would not be denied, not now, not this close to his ultimate and glorious triumph.

 

After nine hundred years of plotting and scheming, carefully hoarding and augmenting his power, gathering intelligence and procuring minions, inciting rebellions and toppling dynasties, to come this close now—when Oogway was dead and gone, a fading and irrelevant memory who no longer had any meaning or influence, one who could no longer hold him, or hold him back—to be on the cusp of achieving perfect control of the empire and the _chi_ of every soul residing in it…only to now lose everything…

 

It would not be countenanced. It was _unacceptable_.

 

What made it even more galling, and his impending failure all the more likely to prompt that blood-curdling shriek from his throat, was that he had the ugly and prescient feeling that it was, in fact, the foolish turtle who was somehow responsible for all this. For ever since the night of the first full moon following his meeting with the Wu Sisters, he had felt…something, an inexplicable aura of saintliness, holiness, and warm, unwavering calm emanating from all around Tai Lung whenever he reached out, through that bit of silver-gray fur, to influence his _chi_.

 

It had not held him back entirely, despite the anathema of such sickening and pure light—he had always been nothing if not persistent, so that eventually he had found chinks in this celestial armor to break through, gaps and openings by means of which he had still been able to touch and inflame the snow leopard's passions, his hate and anger. But, he realized now with extreme bitterness, this had obviously not proven as effective as he had counted on.

 

Even worse than this, however, was the manner in which the confrontation at Chorh-Gom had played out. From the beginning, of course, he had known Vachir would be trouble—the rhino had a phenomenal willpower, almost as unyielding and adamantine as Tai Lung's own. And for all the fact that it had been almost embarrassingly easy to possess his _chi_ and shunt his soul into the farthest corner of his mind by means of his hatred and yearning for revenge, the commander had always been struggling with him every step of the way.

 

Each murder committed by the rhino's body had in fact required incredible amounts of focus, browbeating, and mind-shattering force, so that even with his ability to divide his attention—and his essence—between far distant places, Heian Chao had been driven on many occasions to withdraw his conscious thought from Monkey as well as cease meeting with the assassin trio, so as to fix himself entirely on the task of bringing Vachir to heel.

 

But that, as stated, had been expected and even planned for. The rhino had always and only been merely a pawn, and whether he remained loyal and pliant or not did not matter—in the end, either he would kill Tai Lung or be killed by him, preferably with some intervening time where he had recaptured and tormented the snow leopard back into instability and evil.

 

Nor had the Furious Five and their master been of particular worry for him, since the Anvil of Heaven had been resurrected precisely with their preoccupation and deaths in mind. No, where things had begun to go terribly wrong was all due to several converging factors: the unexpected wisdom and insight of the insect, Mantis, Tai Lung himself turning out to be far too insufferably noble for his own good…and the interference of that smug, fiendishly clever bitch Master Tigress.

 

Clenching his fist, Heian Chao noticed from the corner of his eye that the darkness which usually surrounded or composed his being was roiling and surging wildly, in danger of exploding in waves of withering, debilitating shadow across the cavern—he was losing control. But he couldn't help it, every time he thought of the leader of the Five he saw red and could only think of bringing the full force of his enervating _chi_ down upon her until there was nothing left of the feline but rotted flesh, a mummified body, and fur turning to dust.

 

Mantis's discovery of the truth about Monkey had been irksome, requiring a swift disposal before he could give the game away—it would not do to have one so well-versed in _chi_ about as Chao continued to exert his influence upon the denizens of the palace and the Valley, and since it had been the insect who had saved Po (as well as Tigress following the encounter in the birch forest), it behooved the mage to eliminate the healer when the chance presented itself. _The next time another of their number is on the verge of death, this time there will be no one to save them. One by one, like dominoes, they will fall._

 

In any event, while he had not liked having his hand forced, nor the fact Crane and Viper had witnessed it, thus sending him fleeing the guard room, such an act had not left his plan completely unrecoverable. But it had turned out to signal the beginning of the end.

 

For always Tigress had been there. Not merely fighting Vachir with as much determination, skill, and prowess as Tai Lung or their master, so that the battle was not nearly as one-sided or predetermined as it had seemed, but also cleverly taking advantage of the rhino's misogyny and overconfidence to get in close and deal the fatal blow. Chao had not expected that; like Vachir, he too had discounted or underestimated Tigress. And that thrust of a _dao_ saber had been the first deathblow to his plan—for of course, if Vachir were to die, he had intended all along it should be Tai Lung to make the killing strike.

 

The striped feline intervening had ruined everything, left the snow leopard guiltless, blameless—and beyond his reach. Meanwhile, someone else had freed those elephant prisoners at the most inopportune moment, depriving him of a great source of power as well as distracting and breaking his concentration when it was most critical. That in turn had caused him to lose his hold on both Vachir and Monkey—when the chase by the avian and the serpent had brought the golden langur within easy reach of the combatants on the pinnacle, and the 'revelation' of Tai Lung and Tigress's love had made Monkey's jealousy flare to unrivaled proportions, it had taken only the barest nudge to send him forward to eliminate the hated Tigress. She who had grown far too close to his Chosen One, she whose love and affection had clearly given Tai Lung as much of a hold on sanity and redemption as Po's friendship had.

 

But then the damned killer had to go and be a martyr, taking the blow meant for his beloved, and Monkey had been left too close to Vachir when the dark _chi_ had escaped him. This was why he usually refrained from bringing those he possessed and influenced together in the same place—the darkness could reflect and reinforce itself between them, but it also tended to gather and adhere together, so that where one cloud of it went, another was sure to follow. Particularly when one of those slipped or was cast out of its host.

 

Now he had neither of his receptacles, no one left to do his work but the Wu Sisters; the loss of both Monkey and Vachir had drained him greatly, the release of the Weis even more so. All of that work, all those months of building his power, influence, and control…all for naught, dashed in a single instant. Yet even worse than this was that, when the far too resilient and resourceful snow leopard had survived his fall into the abyss, when he had been left at the dying rhino's side, he had finally ended Vachir's life for good— _but he had done so out of mercy_.

 

If the commander had riven Tai Lung's life away, or if Monkey had, he would have been left a hungry ghost, a wandering soul with its desires in life unfulfilled, its onus not abated, and could thus have been easily restored to a half-life as the greatest of his undead servants. If the ex-convict had instead killed Vachir, and had done so to achieve vengeance for all those endless years of torture…the years Chao had brought into fruition through his haunting of the rhino's bitter subconscious, the years he had then lived off of the feast Tai Lung's suffering and hatred had bequeathed to him…then he would still have been Chao's.

 

Regardless the motivation, such a premeditated act of revenge—or better still, an unpredictable and explosive lashing-out of insanity—would have been utter selfishness and darkness personified, the perfect opportunity for him to invade and overwhelm Tai Lung, to transform him permanently into a creature of aggression, wrath, hatred, and destruction. It would have granted Chao the window into the snow leopard's soul, so that he could tip him into imbalance and chaos, grant his Yang supremacy, and make him his servant forever.

 

But instead, the rhino had died by another's hand so that any consequences would fall on her, out of expediency and justice rather than hate and malice, and Tai Lung's only portion of the deed had come from forgiveness, compassion, and honor. Useless to him, weak and ridiculous—a thing of the light, of Yin, and therefore beyond his reach. All of that glorious _chi_ , so tempting and rife with possibilities, once so ready and willing to give itself over to him, to obey his commands…to sate him as he fed endlessly upon its sinful essence…now denied him, cut off from his influence as surely as if the Great Wall had been built around it.

 

It made him impotent, as well as this close to unleashing a holocaust of death and suffering like none the world had ever seen, to make them pay for denying him his will. It was all because of her, because of Tigress and the shield she had placed around Tai Lung's heart, the calm and clarity of vision, the gentleness of spirit and the wisdom of selfless humility she had granted him—the barrier, support, and last resort that was the snow leopard's love for her. As long as he had that to turn to, Heian Chao could only bitterly rail against his fate, cursing those who had kept him from ascending to godhood while he vainly watched Tai Lung slip from his grasp.

 

And who was to blame for this? Who had failed to inform him of the presence of Mei Ling, she who had exonerated Tai Lung of Po's attempted murder and thus set the stage for Tigress to forgive and eventually love him? Who had also neglected to mention the snow leopard's pursuit of Tigress at all, how close they were becoming, that the ex-convict was seeking love at all as a way to fulfill and redeem his life? Who had apparently never had any intention of telling him any of this, so that he'd had to discover it on his own through his torture of Chang, his probing of Monkey's memories, and his silent visitation of other villagers in the Valley?

 

The Wu Sisters.

 

But that would all change, now, this instant. For he had fully recovered his strength and potency…he still had more than enough dark _chi_ to feed off of from those who still feared and hated Tai Lung, such as Xiulan…from Crane and Viper's resentment and distrust of Monkey, understandable but in this case highly dangerous and unwise…and from the last piece of his plan falling into place, now that the snow leopard and the others were back in the Valley, and therefore more fully exposed to his baleful influence. The Wu Sisters' incompetence would not fail him again, not if they wished to receive their rewards and continue living, and this time, not even Oogway could stand in his way…

 

Closing his eyes and gathering his cloak and wings about him—as well as the trailing shadows and tatters of wispy _chi_ which always swirled and stirred like a steaming cauldron when he moved about—Heian Chao sent out his thoughts and will into the ether. He poured his essence into the darkness that was both mother and child to him, master and servant, vehicle and source of power and life for him. And just like that, as effortless as always, as he had been able to do for over eight centuries—as had allowed him to crisscross the empire in Vachir's body, swoop and dart about to spy and collect information and spirits in equal measure, and even appear in more than one place simultaneously—he dissolved into the shadows.

 

As swift as thought, he crossed the ethereal, otherworldly dimension that lay both atop and aside from the material plane, the haunting realm of clinging shadows, endlessly howling winds, and shrieking screams that would drive any without protection or the strongest of minds stark raving mad. Shifted just out of phase with the world, but still able to see into it to gauge his progress, he finally emerged from the shadows in the corner of the inn room where the three snow leopardesses were staying. As soon as he had solidified, he knew something was wrong, and he also knew they were aware of him instantly.

 

There was a brief scuffle across the room, the muffled and strangled cry of a woman, and then Wu Jia suddenly burst free of the vise-like grips both of her sisters had been employing to restrain her. With tears pouring down her cheeks, fangs bared in a rictus of hate, and chest heaving with her sobs, the youngest assassin came leaping straight toward him, one paw lifted to brandish one of her daggers straight and true toward Chao's heart.

 

He didn't even blink, nor did he feel fear or anything at all save for a certain bored disappointment; he had thought better of them. With a simple gesture, he sent a surging blast of darkness from his hand, a roiling torrent of gleaming, shimmering shadow that scooped Jia off her feet, hurled her ten feet across the room, and slammed her into the wall. There, pinned and writhing just below the ceiling, the _chi_ wrapped around her throat so tightly that only the barest bit of air could make it to her lungs, she dangled and twisted. But despite the fact her life hung by a thread, she only continued to glare at him hatefully. "You…how _dare_ you...come to us now, after what...you've done…!"

 

"Well, that manner of greeting certainly has novelty going for it," he replied urbanely, even as he had to force the words out from his tightly clamped beak. "To what do I owe the honor of receiving such a special gift from the Wu Sisters?"

 

"You know what you did!" Jia hissed. Before he could observe, with absolute honesty, that he had done many reprehensible, vile things and could not be expected to recall them all, she continued. "We saw Monkey's room...the things you made him write there. He was going to kill Tai Lung! After you told us _not_ to!"

 

"Not that I agree with our sister's rather…rash act," Chun opined from one side, stepping forward calmly with one hand on her waist—although he noticed her fingers were only a twitch away from her own dagger should she need it, "but she is right about one thing. Why did you tell us to bring no harm to Tai Lung, if you simply intended to off him yourself once you got the chance? Seems like pretty poor planning on your part."

 

Completely ignoring Jia, as if suspending her in this manner were something he did every day, Heian Chao shot Chun a withering glare. "And since when did I _ever_ promise to reveal to you every detail of my plans, how I think, what I intend to do to achieve victory?" His voice turned flat. "To coin a phrase, it was on a need-to-know basis, and you didn't. Besides, you're intelligent…or rather, some of you are."

 

Now he regarded Jia with an elegant sneer, watched her wriggle like a fish on a hook while she clawed desperately and uselessly at the wall, at the shadows holding her on which she could not even gain a purchase. "I'm certain you ladies can figure it out, given enough time."

 

Xiu, who had remained silent and introspective until this moment, rubbed her chin musingly…and then slowly the light of understanding dawned in her cold blue eyes. "You never had any intention of Monkey killing him. You wanted him to _try_ to…so that when Tai Lung defended himself, the rest of the Five and Shifu would see it happen and reach the…appropriate conclusion."

 

"Precisely," he lied blithely. Or rather, it was a half-truth; while killing Tai Lung was his absolutely final option, for if the snow leopard would not serve him then one of his phenomenal _chi_ had to be eliminated as an enemy, he could still raise the feline with his necromancy if it came down to it. And while he was hardly averse to death as a means to an end, his first intention had always been manipulation, clouding the senses, arranging matters so that others damned themselves by their own paws without him having to lift a feather.

 

"Since you were unable to kill the Dragon Warrior—twice, I might add—I rather thought it prudent to make Tai Lung more amenable to your offer, as I said I would. You could not remove the source of friendship and forgiveness…nor could you pin a crime on him, and so make it seem he had backslid. But if the primate died by Tai Lung's claws, in full view of his comrades, because he had been driven to it and had no choice, they would turn on him. He would be alone and friendless, exiled if not actually put on trial for his crime. At the very least, joining you would seem a much more attractive prospect."

 

He paused, then hardened his gaze as he speared Xiu straight down to her cankered, shriveled heart. He was gratified to see her actually drop her eyes and turn slightly away, unable to face his contempt for long. "Besides," he breathed softly, yet also in a brittle tone, "I am not the only one here who had hidden things they should not. Am I?"

 

The words hung, ghostly and unanswered, in the stillness of the moonlit room. Then, just as softly, Xiu finally replied. "I'll explain, Heian Chao. If you would…let Jia down. She doesn't look like she'll last much longer…and she may be annoying and troublesome, but she's still kin and I need her."

 

Glancing back, he saw the snow leopardess was right; Jia's face had begun to turn blue, and her struggles were now as weak and pitiful as those performed by the helpless innocents he'd murdered from Yunxian to Qinghe. With a disgusted sound, he lowered his wing and turned dismissively away; behind him, the dark _chi_ released its hold on her throat and began to dissipate, and Jia dropped to the floor, collapsing in a heap.

 

While she lay there, still weeping softly as she massaged at her aching throat, he looked at Xiu pointedly. Nodding, and seeming as unperturbed and nonchalant as ever, she sat down primly on the bed, crossed her legs, and spoke matter-of-factly. "We didn't tell you about Tigress because we thought it wasn't important. I never believed Tai Lung could truly love anyone, or that she would ever get over her hatred and murderous impulses, so the idea of them getting together was quite impossible and, frankly, more than a little laughable. And in any case, I believed we would take care of her soon enough, so it wouldn't matter."

 

"But you didn't," he intoned ominously. "And not only does she live, perfectly well, and remains an impediment to our plans, but you have forgotten what I told you in Sha'anxi. There can be no means by which Tai Lung can retain his hold on goodness and morality. That is why I hired you to eliminate the panda…but Master Tigress has given him an even greater lifeline to cling to. As long as he loves her, and believes she loves him in return, his determination to atone for his past cannot be shattered.

 

"Thanks to her, I have lost my hold on Monkey, as well as my greatest servant in Vachir. Without that, it shall be mere child's play for her and the Dragon Warrior to keep him on the path of righteousness, and lead him back to the light." He could not keep the repugnance and nausea from his voice, and didn't bother trying.

 

"Can't you re-establish it?" Chun said quietly. "After what we saw in his room, I can't believe Monkey isn't still a mess, mentally and emotionally. Surely you could—"

 

"Yes," he replied testily. "But the rest of the Four and their master will be expecting it now. Even if he is not under guard and close scrutiny, they will never trust him again, and that won't allow me to get away with any further betrayals or murders. None of them are susceptible anymore."

 

Silence reigned for a few minutes, and then Xiu remarked, with equal parts cold cynicism and fiery resentment, "You sound as if you're giving up."

 

Heian Chao shot her a deprecating look. "Of course not," he scoffed. "I have waited almost a thousand years for this moment, did you really think I would stop now, this close to achieving my goals? Especially after all the work you and I have put into this? No, I was merely informing you just how dire straits have become, how much more difficult and complex our struggle shall be. It was never a simple or assured scheme, but now it has become much more uncertain. You must be prepared." He paused, then gave Jia a significant look. "I must know I have your loyalty…and you must never conceal anything from me again."

 

"You have it," Xiu supplied immediately. "Forgive me…I should not have doubted you, and I was mistaken about Tigress. Believe me, if she has made it next to impossible for us to succeed by sinking her claws into Tai Lung, then I will happily make sure it's the last thing she ever does. And I don't think I'm the only one."

 

Chun readily agreed as well with her undeniable calm and aplomb—something Chao had always secretly admired. There were times he had even envied it, though he would never admit it, as keeping control of his own temper had been a lifelong struggle it had taken centuries to finally perfect. Only Jia remained silent and uncommitted…but as he turned and looked at her expectantly, she half-sat up, her arms wrapped around her sides as if she were chilled to the bone and could never find warmth and life ever again.

 

Her gaze still defiant, as well as pained and burdened with truth, she stared at him as she rocked back and forth. "If it's Tigress we're talking about…I'm with you to the end, Heian Chao. She…she took him away from me. He was mine, and she stole him from me. I can't ever forgive that…"

 

He narrowed his eyes, peering not only at Jia, but deep within her, to the state of her soul and _chi_. Examining her minutely, penetrating to her utter essence of self, he observed silently…and finally he understood. _Of course. The human heart, so fragile, so easily unbalanced, so capable of descending into the maudlin and sentimental as well as the wickedness and cruelty I have need of. She has fallen for him. I pushed her lust too far, and it has developed into love._

 

Briefly cursing to himself, he soon brushed the matter aside, however. If he could still manage to draw Tai Lung into his sphere of influence, to procure his services and obtain the entirety of his ocean of _chi_ to use as he saw fit, then it would be a simple matter to coerce the snow leopard into cutting all ties with Tigress and couple with Jia instead. Assuming the master of the Tiger style didn't die in the process of claiming Tai Lung, of course. And if the sisters lost their lives to the Four, or in carrying out his will for this final gambit, then Jia's feelings would be irrelevant. Only a little longer…

 

"You'd better not ask us to hurt Mei, though," Jia said suddenly, her voice as fierce and protective as it had been hateful and vicious when speaking of the striped feline. "That's why we didn't tell you about her. She's our sister. We love her."

 

Xiu laughed scornfully, rising from the bed and sinuously striding across the room to cut off Chao's line of sight, her back to her kneeling sister. "Speak for yourself, Jia. I can assure you, sir, she doesn't speak for the rest of us. Again, I didn't mention Mei Ling because I didn't know what part she'd played in ripping out those seeds we all planted. And because, once we found out she was here, I thought we could handle her. I was wrong, and we failed."

 

Even as she bowed her head and accepted responsibility, the eldest of the assassins was soon looking up again, her entire countenance ablaze with confidence, fury, and reckless determination. "We won't make that mistake again. Now that we know what she's capable of, we can kill her. Or take her out of the fight, one way or another."

 

She gave all the right answers, of course; they might even have been the truth. But in the end, what mattered to him was, he knew Xiu at least would not fail him again. She was too insanely fixed upon becoming a mistress of _chi_ , of gaining the most power a mortal had ever had over death since he himself first discovered such secrets…since he had sidestepped the pedantic and moribund teachings of his master Oogway to uncover the incredible conduits to power that the turtle had denied him, claiming he 'was not ready'. _I think I have proven I am more ready than you could possibly imagine, 'Master'._

 

In any event, no, Xiu would not cease serving him as long as she believed he could give her what she desired—in her cruelty and madness, her callous disregard for all human life and her belief in her own superiority, she would do whatever he asked and not cease until she was dead. And Chun, ever the pragmatist, would do whatever her sister asked of her, would obey him implicitly. The only unknown in the equation was Jia…and what could she possibly do now to ruin his plans? Especially with her siblings to stop her…and her jealous desire for vengeance against Tigress which he could warp to his own ends…

 

"Very well," he pronounced at last. "Your apologies are…accepted. I will give you one last chance, not to fail me again. It is time—long overdue, in fact—for Tai Lung to commit another atrocity. He has been playing the hero so long, he's deluded himself and a few poor, misguided souls into believing it as truth. A delusion we shall now dispel, and an error in judgment we shall remedy. He will give in to his demons, and he will be my servant and your ally." He grinned fiendishly. "He simply doesn't know it yet."

 

Smiling just as broadly and delightedly, Xiu bowed to him, and when she was upright once more, her dagger was in her hand. "What do you need us to do? Just name it, and it is done."

 

He reached into the pocket of his cloak and withdrew the snow leopard fur he had been using for the past several months as the focus of his _chi_. This he held out to the eldest sister. "Kill someone. I don't care who, I don't care how—though I am certain you have your marks chosen already. You are so thorough in your work, my dear, it truly impresses and pleases me to see you in action. Simply be certain to leave this with the body, and employ whatever other means you deem necessary to ensure all evidence points in the right direction."

 

Chao paused, eyeing Xiu's covetous look as she gathered the fur tightly in her palm, practically licking her lips in anticipation, then Chun's slightly bemused look, and lastly Jia's, which hovered between disapproving, glum, and vaguely sickened. Then he added, off-handedly, "I shall be there with you to observe, of course."

 

Immediately all eyes locked on him, the youngest's in fear, the middle sister's merely startled, and Xiu's burning with open resentment and fury. She had divined the reasoning behind this, the unstated sentiment, and was of course extremely angered by it, as he'd intended. But, as he regarded her with veiled amusement and the first touch of contentment he'd felt since Chorh-Gom, he knew he could take no further chances.

_I truly am sorry, Xiu…but I think it best I take a firm and direct hand in events from now on. You are an admirable servant, with a real loyalty beyond what my money could buy. But I am afraid you and your sisters have proven…unreliable. If a conflict arises between your personal needs and interests, and my own, none of you can be counted on to place me first. Not without constant supervision, at any rate_.

 

"I have one further task to undertake before I do so," he stated. "Then I shall join you. Did you do as I directed, while we waited for them to return from Xinjiang? Did you make the journey to Wu Dan?"

 

"Yes," Xiu said, unsurprisingly bitter and annoyed. "We took all the stores of our most virulent poison and dumped it in the Pool of Sacred Tears. I just hope you know what you're doing, and that it works. That cost us a great deal to find on the black market, it won't exactly be easy to replace…"

 

Heian Chao chuckled softly as he gathered his thoughts and will around him, drawing upon the shadows in the inn room and the lingering traces of _chi_ to form the veil of travel once more. "You will be reimbursed, I guarantee it." _One way or another._ "Very well then. You know what to do."

 

As he began to melt into the darkness, he noted with a few last sibilant words, "And remember…I will be watching you…" He was quite pleased to see the looks of discomfort, worry, and fear on each of their faces as he vanished into the shadow plane.

 

In seconds he had again reformed, this time at the far outskirts of the Valley—a distance it would normally take half a day to travel, now covered in the blink of an eye. As the light of the moon poured downward upon the grassy slopes of the mountain, they picked out the rippling, shimmering waters of the Sacred Pool of which he had just spoken with the Wu Sisters.

 

A single glance did not immediately reveal that their poison had done its work, until he peered closer and saw that, despite the still beautiful hue of the waters, the entire shoreline of the pool was nothing but sand, soil, and rock—all of the plant life surrounding it had withered and died, leaving a barren stripe encircling it that only seemed to be growing larger with each passing minute. He smiled to himself. _Excellent_.

 

The reason he had come here, he mused as he strode around the waters, inspecting their condition and the right place for him to enter, was twofold. Though none of those in the Valley knew it, and he suspected none of the kung fu warriors, not even Shifu, had been taught the truth by Oogway, the Pool of Sacred Tears was called that for a very good reason. Wu Dan was a holy place, and meditating here had allowed the turtle to divine the secrets of harmony, focus, and life itself so as to invent kung fu, because the pool itself was the greatest, richest, and most concentrated upwelling of pure, untainted _chi_ to be found anywhere in China.

 

This made it, quite obviously, a direct threat to his power and in fact his very existence—coming in contact with its waters, under normal circumstances, would at the very least rob him of his mystical abilities…if not actually cause his extremely painful and horrific death. Not a pleasant or advisable prospect. As a result, it needed to be eliminated if his conquest was to be assured. Just as importantly, however, because it contained so much of the power which drove and sustained all life and therefore influenced the lives of every person in the Valley, it also held the potential for delicious subversion.

 

If its power could be harnessed…twisted…corrupted…then it would allow him to directly influence, even control, the lives of all those in the village and on the Jade Mountain. He could guide their thoughts and beliefs, harness and enflame their emotions, possess them from afar without even coming near them. As Tai Lung's metaphorical shadow had once been cast over the Valley, his would darken and consume it quite literally…reaching out to surround, ensnare, and manipulate all life here for his own ends. It simply required a…joining of his _chi_ with the pool's, something made possible now that the Sisters' poison had made the waters safe for him to touch.

 

Finding there was no direct slope down into the pool, with the shore remaining several feet above the surface of the water, Heian Chao chose not to simply leap from the edge, instead spreading his wings and pushing off from the ground. After he had circled above the Sacred Pool for several moments—taking this brief respite to enjoy the power of flight in the natural world, something he had not been able to experience for nine centuries, held prisoner as he was deep beneath the ground by his own former master—he folded his wings and dived, landing with a splash in the center of the pool.

 

There, treading water, he simply sent out his will into the water around him, pouring every ounce of his hatred and contempt, his rage and pain, his cruelty and ambition, into the shadows trailing from his body.

 

Slowly at first, then more quickly, the darkness began to bleed into the water like running ink. The longer he bathed within it, the darker and more foul the pool began to become, churning and frothing as if coming to a full boil beneath the undeniable heat of his anger and wickedness. What had once been clearest crystal-blue and shining with utter sanctity and purity now changed, poisoned more fully and awfully than even the assassins' stock had engendered, so that it became an ugly and matte black.

 

Darker, deeper, and more corrupt it became, the essence of his _chi_ descending farther and farther until it had been filled from top to bottom with the enervating power of his shadow magic, transformed completely. No longer was it a repository of holiness and enlightenment, but of pure evil and destruction, an extension of his will, a steaming and fetid bog staring out over the landscape like an evil eye. And as he continued feeding his _chi_ into it, it began to swirl and splash from its banks, rising up to flood the plains with his darkest desires and every bit of his power magnified tenfold, a hundredfold.

 

He raised both arms high, smiling with euphoric and wild excitement, and the _chi_ -tainted waters followed his directions, bursting upward in two thickly-woven columns of shadow that mirrored his every motion. Higher, higher, along the slopes of the peak they rose, while the mist and darkness wreathed and entwined about them, gradually bleeding and escaping outwards across the sky like gathering storm clouds. Then, at their apex, he suddenly thrust his arms forward and down, feathered hands aimed straight and true toward the crimson, jade, and gold of the roofs and walls he could see towering above the land miles away from his location.

 

Instantly the waters splashed back down onto the mountain top, driven forward by his malefic gesture, and with them was carried every ounce of his _chi_ , every portion of his hatred and malice and ill will toward the Valley and those who lived within it. It burst across the grassy plain, shriveling all plant and animal life it came in contact with, leaving behind only dry, swirling dust and bleached bones. It blasted across the ledges and peaks of Wu Dan until it reached the precipice which overlooked the trail down to the valley floor, spilling over it in a gigantic cascade that, even more eerily and disturbingly, remained absolutely silent and unnoticed.

 

It descended the sides of the mountain, lending the terrifying and scarily accurate sensation that his own arms had grown to monstrous size and were even now reaching down to grasp and engulf the helpless inhabitants below in their loathsome embrace. And there it shot forward through the forests, across the sloping farm fields and winding rivers, until it encompassed the entirety of the town in its smoky, wraith-like halo…gradually decreasing its diameter, creeping in past the boundaries, flowing over rooftops and _dougongs_ , coursing down stone walls like rain which left pits and streaks behind it, permeating every cobblestone, shingle, bridge piling, and lantern until the entire village lay in perpetual shadow.

 

Despite the moon hanging in the sky (which was in turn gradually fading behind the looming, building clouds), the Valley of Peace had become a seething, festering cauldron of darkness and corrosive energy, with only the roofs of the buildings, the promontory where the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom stood, and the Jade Mountain itself poking up out of the endless maelstrom.

 

Over the next few hours, it would enter every house and shop, drape and caress every person it found, turning all their thoughts and emotions to suspicion, mistrust, prejudice, hate, and despair…glutting him as he never had been before, until his power would rival and at last surpass Oogway's. It would make every one of them his creature and servant, or at least willing to act on their darkest and most immoral of impulses, to unknowingly carry out his will. It would catch and corrupt the Four too most likely, certainly Tai Lung. And it would set in motion the final denouement of the murder the Wu Sisters would carry out for him.

 

"Now," Heian Chao rumbled softly, in lustful and gloating satisfaction, "now, it begins…"

                                                                      

* * *

 

_I have never been more embarrassed in my life._

 

Hovering like a wisp of cloud at the entrance of the store marked with the plum blossom sign, Tai Lung shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clinking uneasily in one paw the money Shifu had given him on his way out of the palace, while he rubbed at the back of his neck with the other.

 

It had been bad enough, a month and a half ago, when he'd come down to the village to purchase the flowers, candy, and necklace for Tigress—then, he'd had to contend with merchants who reacted even worse than the ones Tigress herself had bought from on his first visit to the village since Po defeated him.

 

The florist had screamed when she first saw him and ducked underneath her stall until he had gathered his bouquet together and gently asked her how much he owed her, at which point she'd emerged looking flabbergasted and stunned, gazing at him as if he'd turned into a yak when she wasn't looking. _What, did she think I was going to rampage through her stock like a bull in a china shop? Er…sorry, Zhuang…_

 

The candy store owner (not the same one he'd visited when he was five, though he wasn't sure if that was fortuitous or a missed opportunity) had also hidden behind his counter, only coming out when he patiently explained he was seeking something to impress his lady love—after a brief moment of soundless mouth-working, he'd set to finding the perfect collection of sweets, apparently deciding that the fact even the wicked Tai Lung could want trinkets to woo a fair maiden meant all was right with the world.

 

And the jeweler had only crossed his arms severely and eyed him suspiciously the whole time, as if he'd expected the snow leopard to steal from him. The fact they'd all been half-convinced he was the one killing people and not Vachir hadn't helped either. He had no idea how this vendor would react…

_This was a ridiculous idea. And look at how late it is, they're probably not even open._

****

**_But there's still a light on inside._ **

_So? Probably just going over the bills of lading or something. What, d'you really think this is the sort of place to stay open for 'late-night emergencies'?_

****

**_You never know. And you're stalling._ **

_What if he won't sell to me?_

****

**_Then you come back tomorrow with Viper to vouch for you. But you won't know 'til you try._ **

_This is beneath my dignity._

****

**_You promised you'd do anything for Tigress, remember? And d'you really want her carrying your cub when Chao comes knocking?_ **

_I changed my mind._

****

**_Liar_ ** _._

 

Letting out a deep, slow, ragged breath, he finally nerved himself and stepped forward, pushing open the door.

 

The apothecary's was dark, even for this time of night, with only tiny lanterns and candles here and there to stave off the gloom—either the owner didn't do enough business to afford larger and more expensive light sources, or it was a matter of practicality to prevent flammable stock from igniting. Dried herbs and plants hung from the rafters, bins of mushrooms, flower petals, and roots lined the plank flooring, and miscellaneous jars of sharks' fins, lizards' tails, dried fur, bamboo sticks, shed deer horns, and various medicines and unknown substances stood on countless shelves. "Hello? Is anyone at home?"

 

"Yes? It's a little late, I was about to close up…what did you need, sonny?" Despite the choice of words, the voice was not particularly wheezy or ancient, so he was rather surprised when the proprietor appeared from behind a head-high stack of fan palm leaves and was revealed to be an aged goat. His age was given away only by the color of his fur and a slight hint of cataracts in his eyes; otherwise he seemed as agile and spry as ever, only barely bent at the back, and his voice was quite steady, strong, and even deep and mellifluous.

 

Blinking, and unable to keep from wringing his paws together, Tai Lung approached the scarred wooden counter at the back and forced a weak smile. "Er…yes, sorry about that. Wouldn't have come if…someone…hadn't insisted. I could come back tomorrow—" Indeed, he was already sidling back and half out the door.

 

"Nonsense!" The goat waved the matter aside, then gestured him back. "You're already here, might as well get it squared away now. Something in particular you were wanting?"

_How to say this…_ He rubbed at the back of his neck again, his other paw cupping his elbow habitually. "Um…I'm rather in need of…er, some of your, um…more exotic…substances."

 

The goat raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be a little old to be indulging in recreational drug use, my boy. But I do have some lotus blossoms here, and a fresh batch of opium…"

 

"No!" Hurriedly he threw both paws up to forestall him. _Damn it._ "That's not what I meant, I…" He lowered his voice, even though no one else was around to hear them. "I need something for…the bedroom."

 

Smirking slyly, the apothecary crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the counter. "Really? Well, nothing to be ashamed of, sonny, happens to all of us at the worst of times, doesn't mean anything about your masculinity. I could give you my own special brew…a certain weed I mix with something fresh from yours truly…" He winked bawdily.

_Gah! Didn't know my mouth was big enough to swallow my whole leg, not just my foot._ Quite aware that he was an even deeper shade of crimson than when Shifu had caught him with Tigress, he hissed frantically to cut the goat off and lowered his voice another notch. "I have absolutely _no_ problem in that department, I will have you know! It's the opposite situation I have to deal with here."

 

To his chagrin, the goat grinned even more broadly and began to laugh, stifling it behind one hoof. "Oh, it's like _that_ , is it? My, my, my…well yes, I can see how that might be a problem. I'll just brew you up a suppressant herb, then, and that should make things a little less…stiff for you, so your lady can get a little rest."

 

He felt like screaming, and was positive Po could use his face for a cooking surface, beginning with a pot of completely cold water. Just as he was about to tear his fur out, he managed to force the words out, whispering so harshly and faintly that he desperately hoped the goat's hearing was still excellent—he did _not_ want to repeat himself. "No, that's not it either! I need…" His voice dropped still further, quite hoarse now. "… _baby-preventers_."

 

Furrowing his brow, the apothecary stared at him for a few moments, and then he snickered and shook his head. "Well, why didn't you just say so, my boy? Nothing shameful about that…"

 

Tai Lung dropped his ears, narrowed his eyes to slits, and glared flatly at the caprine. _That's it. I don't care what excuses they come up with_ — _next time, Shifu or Tigress **will** be the ones fetching this, or I'll know the reason why. And heads will roll, oh yes…_

 

Luckily it didn't take the goat long at all to gather together, grind up, and otherwise blend the mix of herbs, roots, and other chemicals to compose what he termed a 'medicine soup' which Tigress could ingest an hour or two before, er, activity. Gazing rather knowingly at the snow leopard's still stricken and rather dazed face, he prudently included a set of instructions on the right dosage and manner of preparation so that Viper or Tigress herself could make the brew, which was a good thing since Tai Lung was fairly certain he'd blocked it out and not even heard a thing the fellow had said.

 

By the time he was back out in the empty, moonlit street and the proprietor was closing the door and pulling the bamboo shades with one last grin and a rueful shake of the head, the feline only felt like sinking into the ground, and he was bound and determined to avoid any and all human contact as he slunk back to the palace. But then, as he paused in the middle of the road and turned toward the looming bulk of the mountain, he paused…something did not feel right. Something was…off about this night.

 

He glanced about him. No one was nearby. Even all the houses in this street were darkened, all the families within already having taken to their beds. The wind whined and whistled between the looming buildings, the store signs creaked on their hinges, leaves rustled along the ground, and high above, clouds raced and scudded across the face of the moon, casting strange and ambiguous shadows on the village. But it wasn't the ominous surroundings that made him hesitate.

 

There was something extremely familiar about this darkness…a watchfulness, a hidden presence, a constant smirk of contempt and twisted perversity, something he remembered well from his years at Chorh-Gom—something which had nothing to do with Vachir and his punishments. Something he had felt around the bodies they'd found, which had been slowly creeping up on him and invading his thoughts all the way to Qinghe and beyond.

_No_. He was here. Heian Chao was _here_ , right in the Valley of Peace. Had he finally decided, after his failure at the prison, to come out in the open, to bring the battle right to the Jade Palace? Or an even more insidious possibility, _had he been here all along_ , and none of them had realized it? That would explain so much…but it also chilled him in ways he thought he couldn't be anymore.

 

And as he looked out across the land, in the direction of Wu Dan, he saw something else that almost stopped his heart. It was everywhere—the same sort of black, swirling, sluggish mist that had controlled and clung to the bodies of the Anvil of Heaven, that Vachir had used to disappear near the end of their battle while still possessed, and that he recalled with rising dread he'd seen, once or twice, out of the corner of his eye, creeping up out of the abyss around his pinnacle during the twenty years of his imprisonment…something he had chalked up to losing his mind.

 

It now surrounded the entire village, leaving it as a shrinking island in the middle of a tempestuous sea of shadow—and even as he watched, it was advancing, entering the town, crawling like many-legged spiders into every domicile and those who slept helpless and blissfully unaware within. It was ultimately heading, he was certain, for the Jade Palace.

 

He had to warn the others. They had to waken, marshal their forces, come up with a plan of action and a surefire way to defeat him, now, before it was too late.

 

Suiting actions to words, Tai Lung swiftly stuffed the bag of herbs between his teeth and got down on all fours, racing as a silvery-gray streak through the village toward the moon bridge to the staircase. Neither looking left nor right, his eyes fixed only on his solitary goal, he leaped and bounded forward with every ounce of strength and speed…and that was why he did not see, as he passed one nondescript alley among many others, the glittering blue eyes in the narrow, spotted face that watched him from within the black folds of her face-wrap…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really much to say here. As far as what Chao did to the Pool of Sacred Tears, and what then happened to the Valley and town, that was inspired by two unrelated things: the Mord Wraiths' poisoning of Heaven's Well in Terry Brooks' _Wishsong of Shannara_ , and the "Night on Bald Mountain" sequence with the demon Chernabog from _Fantasia_. 
> 
> Also, one bit of explanation in regards to Chinese spirituality to head off any confusion. Yes, Yin is darkness and the black half of the _taijitu_ while Yang is light/the white half. However, as I made clear way back in Chapter 8, Tai Lung's problem is not his Yin, but his Yang. Yin is about calm and passivity, while Yang is about aggression and passion. Neither one is evil or good, neither is better than the other, they both have their good points and bad. The problem stems from imbalance, one being too strong. In Tai's case, his pride and his temper are signs that he has too strong a Yang. So when Heian Chao is speaking of wishing to allow Tai's Yang to dominate him, it is because too much Yang would fill Tai with the aggression, anger, and passion that Heian Chao could use to control and possess him—despite being the dark half, Yin's emotional aspects would be of no use to Chao whatsoever, hence why he considers it to be weak and pathetic. It's confusing, I know, but it stems from the fact that far too many people, including the ones at Dream Works, automatically assume that dark = evil and light = good. The 'darkness' of Chao's chi powers is that of corruption, not Yin. Or if it is Yin, it's because Chao himself is coldly logical and calmly calculating, most of the time, not because Yin is "evil". I hope that clears everything up.


	34. Terror in the Valley

 

 

"No!"

 

"This isn't a democracy, Jia. You know that as well as I do, you've always known that. The time for debate was long ago, if there ever was a time. Xiu won't hear of it, and even if she would, do you _really_ want to cross Heian Chao and have him do even worse to you?"

 

"I don't care! I'm not going to let him do this. I'm not going to _help_ him do it. It's wrong!" She stamped her foot in the street, although the effect came off as more cute than determined as she'd likely intended it to be.

 

"I thought you said you wanted to get rid of Tigress. I thought you wanted Tai Lung for yourself." Although she wouldn't put it past her youngest sibling to wish to keep Tigress alive, so she could have the pleasure of actually taking the snow leopard away from her; she was fairly certain that was the real reason Xiu had left the striped feline alive, whatever she had told Chao.

 

"I did. I do! But…not like this. And anyway," Jia rushed on, her violet eyes flashing as she skewered her middle sister with a glare, "this has nothing to do with that. Maybe I'm the only one here, but I don't think I want Tai Tai to be evil anymore. If he's going to join us, I want it to be of his own free will. And maybe I want to join him, did you ever think of that? You know I didn't want to be here in the first place."

 

"Keep your voice down!" Chun glanced ahead, down the alley, to where Xiu walked ten paces before them, slipping and darting soundlessly and effortlessly through the village streets...guiding them as she had ever since they'd left their inn, peering out to watch the passersby until she saw the coast was clear, then waving them onward...moving them ever toward the place she had chosen to make their killing.

 

She didn't know if their eldest sister couldn't hear them or was merely pretending not to, but she wasn't about to take the chance. This had to be dealt with, now, before Jia got them all in trouble again. Before things became too out of control, and all of them were too caught up in events to turn back…

 

Jia growled at Xiu's backside, every mannerism denoting rebellion and contrariness, but then she looked back. "You don't get it, do you, Chun? This isn't like anything we've done before. We haven't been hired to take out some corrupt chancellor, or a fat old general who lets all his soldiers take the arrows for him. We're not after a merchant who cheats his customers and swindles his rivals, or a gang of thugs preying on hapless travelers.

 

"This is a _completely innocent_ person we'll be killing. Someone who never did anything wrong. Their only crime is being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and they'll die just because Heian Chao, and Xiu, say so. And Tai Lung's going to get blamed for it. That's not going to endear us to him, you know!

 

"And he still wants us to get rid of Po somehow too," she said with a trace of despair. "You know that. And you know why we can't do it. Just like you know Chao has gotten us into something worse than anything we've ever done. You saw Monkey's room. You know what he was making Vachir do. _Children_ , Chun! We've never killed kids, not even Xiu! Where do you draw the line? When do you realize you've gone too far? When are you going to admit that we're in over our heads, and if we don't escape soon, we're going to be damned along with that monster?"

 

Wu Chun sighed, glanced around the empty, shadow-cloaked alleyway they currently occupied, and took Jia's arm as she stepped in closer to her sister. She knew exactly what Jia was talking about. She'd seen the disturbing things written on the walls of Monkey's room as well as anyone. She'd heard the rumors about Wei Chang's son, when news of his death and what had been done to his parents reached the Jade Palace.

 

She'd actually seen what Heian Chao was capable of, when she personally came across one of the mutilated corpses he'd left as a marker on the Valley rim—and made certain it was discovered and given a proper burial by reporting it anonymously. The more she came to know and understand about their benefactor, the more disquieted and downright terrified she became.

 

But she also knew what Jia refused to accept, what she had never absorbed from Wu Qing's lessons when they were cubs—that they were assassins, it was in their blood, and it would dominate their lives and their futures regardless of what they did to try and change it. After so many generations of killers in their past, so much blood and death in which their ancestors had steeped themselves, their karma must be irrevocably determined and chosen for them…their place in the afterlife assured, their next incarnations surely ones as lowly and demeaning as they came. There was no possible way their paws would ever be clean again.

 

She also knew that they had been serving Heian Chao too long, and knew too much about him, to be allowed to leave his service, or even to escape him and live. Whether they wished it or not, their fate was tied inextricably to his. And she knew that, while Jia had never enjoyed killing and death, she herself had...and while Jia had always been more honorable and secretly heroic like Mei Ling, she herself was not.

 

Yet even for a thorough, dedicated, and professional assassin like herself, Chun was not altogether certain she could stomach either what they had been asked to do. She did not have a vested interest in Tai Lung, either as lover or mistress, mate or owner—but by that same token, the objectivity on which she'd always prided herself meant she did not truly see what gain and benefit they would reap from this. Was one man, however powerful and unmatched by any other of his generation, worth all the trouble they were putting themselves through?

 

Surely there were other, better ways to obtain what they sought. She herself knew of a number of famous kung fu masters and cloistered monks who might know the Fingerstrike and be willing to teach her—not that she wished to use it in battle, merely to know that she _could_ , if she wished, and for her adversaries to know it too. All manner of beauty techniques could preserve Jia's youth without her having to resort to mystical means that surely had a terrible price. And…if Xiu ever got hold of the secrets and powers she longed for, Chun was deeply afraid of what would happen.

 

None of this, of course, even touched on what it would personally mean to eliminate Po or his father.

 

As if reading her mind, Jia hissed, "Are you really going to tell me you're okay with killing Mr. Ping, or the panda? You know what they mean to us. I know you do."

 

Yes. She most certainly did…

 

" _Chun, you have to promise me." Bao's face, as broad and round as the full moon sailing the heavens high above, was unusually intense, the white half of his fur gleaming in the light while the black half seemed to dissolve him to become part of the night. The drizzling rain that still fell from the partly cloudy sky dripped and trickled from the end of his nose and the_ dou li _he wore, forming a thin sheet of icy strings, like beaded curtains made of water, before his face and immense belly._

 

" _You know I can't do that," she'd replied softly, so that Xiu, crouched at the side of the road over the bodies of the caravan guards she'd murdered, couldn't hear her. "I'll do what I can, of course, but I can't promise anything. Xiu wouldn't hear of it, and she just might take offense and_ — _"_

 

" _I don't care!" A deep, furious growl rumbled in his throat, reminding her (as she had often forgotten, to her disquiet and fear) that giant pandas were not the docile, friendly creatures they appeared to be but predators in their own right, quite capable of gutting with their blunt claws and snapping necks with one blow of their mighty paws. This one more than most… "You know we only want what's best for him. You know we just want him to have a good life, something we could never give him here with us. So we had to give him up, even though it broke our hearts…"_

_He glanced behind him, to the other side of the ledge where Li-Na, clad in the garments of a man since she, like her husband, had cast aside all trappings of tradition and a society that had ruined and harmed them far too many times, now stood looking down at the rocky, jungle-cloaked Yunnan valley. Something about the set of the panda's shoulders made her look extremely resigned and sad…Chun was fairly certain, though she couldn't see it, that the woman was softly crying._

 

" _Of course," she answered, as soothingly as she could manage. "The life of a highway robber is no more a place for a child than an assassin's. But what does this have to do with me?"_

_Bao turned back, stood up straight_ — _which was quite intimidating, as he towered a head and a half above her, tall even for a panda, and unlike most of his species had more muscle than fat. But his expression was one of pleading, tenderness, and desperate hope, not the menace and mercilessness usually found there. He even held one paw out to her beseechingly._

 

" _Everything. We gave him up…but we want to make sure he's cared for, and looked after. We gave him to a good man, I think, a traveler in the last caravan, one I asked Xiu to spare. He seemed fairly well off, a bit dim perhaps but his heart was in the right place. And he said he was traveling north, so he'd be taking our son far away_ — _from us, from who we are and what we became, from anything we've known. Clean slate, brand-new life and everything."_

_He swallowed. "But I wanna make sure he makes it where he's going, that nothing else happens to him. And I want you to look in on our son, to make sure he's happy."_

 

" _I…I can't. You know we travel all over, there's little chance we'll ever be in that area. We won't even know exactly where they settle. And we're the most notorious assassins in China, everyone knows who we are_ — _we can't exactly hide. You really want me to bring that sort of danger to your son?"_

_She'd been proud of her cogent reasoning, the objections she'd marshaled that, she thought, hid well her overall discomfort and uncertainty at being asked to do something so familial, so tender and gentle. But Bao had seen right through her._

 

" _I'll tell you exactly where to find them," he cut in peremptorily. "If you travel all over, there's nothing to say you won't ever be there. And you know damn well you three know how to keep from being seen if you really want it. So quit makin' excuses. You don't have to do anything…not unless you see him really in trouble. Just…look in on him. See he's all right. Maybe, if you can spare it, send a little money his way so no one knows who it's from. Please? Promise us you'll do it. Promise us you'll keep him safe."_

 

" _I…"_

 

" _Promise me!" A core of iron laced his voice, his jaw set and thrust out pugnaciously, and as he took a threatening step toward her, she was reminded again why he and his wife were so effective as robbers._

_She glanced once more at Xiu, then Jia, who had stopped to stand beside Li-Na and rest a tiny, understanding paw on her shoulder. He didn't know what he was asking of her…and yet at the same time, she knew he did, and that made all the difference, that was precisely why he'd asked... Closing her eyes, she finally nodded in acceptance. "Fine. I promise."_

_Something seemed to relax inside Bao, like a cramp letting go, and he let out a huge sigh of relief. As he lowered both paws, one of which had been held at his side all this time, she saw to her startled shock that he'd been concealing a butterfly knife along his thigh; he truly had been serious about enforcing this promise. "Good. I trust you, Chun…I know you keep your word, unlike some." He glared at Xiu._

_Trying not to betray her nervousness or how unsettled his implied threat had made her, she forced a reassuring smile. "Thank you, I try. So where do I look? Who's the guy you gave your boy to?"_

 

" _Ping. His name was Ping."_

 

"Chun?"

 

She looked up from her reverie to see Jia staring at her, confusion mingled with rising hope on her face. "I knew it! You don't want to do this either. Oh please, Chun, say you'll help me talk Xiu out of this! We don't have to go through with it…we can flee the Valley, never look back…Tai Lung and his friends will get rid of Chao, somehow, I bet you all the gold in the Emperor's coffers. He'll never be able to come after us, we'll be free…please…"

 

Just as she was beginning to waver, Xiu appeared at the mouth of the alley, gesturing for them to come. "Hurry up!" she hissed. "I just saw Tai Lung. He's here, in the village, without an alibi. But if we don't finish off our mark in time, he'll be gone, out of our reach, and he'll have warned the whole palace!" Jia, of course, bristled and stiffened, quite ready to lodge a protest, but with a sad look of denial, Chun turned and followed their eldest sister out into the street.

 

Across the cobblestoned road…which Chun noticed, with rising distress, was already beginning to fill with a swirling black mist that she and her sisters knew all too well…Xiu was already at the back door of Ping's noodle shop. Unsurprisingly at this time of night, it was locked, but the swift use of a sai jimmied the handle open with a crunch of wood, allowing them entrance into the darkened kitchen.

 

This late at night, the restaurant was closed or just about to be, although lanterns were still lit in the courtyard, their light spilling in the serving hatch to join the dying fire on the hearth in illuminating the small, stone-walled room they'd been in once before, a week and a half ago. It also showed them the form of the goose chef, puttering away by his stove and apparently putting the finishing touches on some culinary masterpiece or other.

 

Jia put a hand on her shoulder, trying to hold her back, and when she looked at her sister, the violet-eyed snow leopardess looked frantic with need, her expression as it had been the day Wu Xuan died, or as Bao's had been on that cliffside roadway. "It's too late!" she hissed in a violent whisper, trying to conceal it within the steam being let off by a boiling kettle.

 

"No, it isn't, it's never too late!" Jia squeezed harder until her fingers dug into the bone. "You can't do this, we promised him…"

 

"If you two are quite through…" Xiu growled nastily.

 

"Hello?" Ping looked up, uncertain and understandably worried by the sounds coming from the shadowy corner of his kitchen. "Is someone there?"

 

Before Jia could hold her back any longer, or the goose could flee to safety, Chun shook her aside and rushed forward at the same time as Xiu. In the twinkling of an eye, both snow leopardesses had leaped out of the darkness, snatched up Ping by his _pao_ , and pinned him to the wall just below the portraits of his ancestors. There, he only had time to let out one strangled squawk before Xiu had her paw wrapped around his bill, once again clamping it shut.

 

Helpless and trapped, he struggled against the wall, feet scrabbling and wings flapping frantically—Chun could see his eyes bulging even larger than usual, gleaming and wet as they darted about in unmitigated fear. Her stomach turned over…but she did not let go.

 

"There now," Xiu purred almost conversationally, though still quite soft in the velvet night. "All nice and comfy? Good…I'd _hate_ to think your last moments on this earth would be ones of muscle pains and aching old bones…"

 

She was just pulling her dagger and had brought the blade up to menace Ping's fluttering throat when Jia was there again, this time daring to put a paw on Xiu's wrist. "No… _please_ …this isn't right! You know it isn't!"

 

Xiu glared at her, eyes looking like chips of ice in the shadows. "There is no right, there is no wrong; there is no good, there is no evil; there is no black, there is no white; there is only gray. Just like our fur. This is why we snow leopards are superior. All that matters is who pays the money, and whom they decree to be our targets." She ceased her recitation and sneered. "You know that just as well as I do, Jia; even if you weren't listening, our mother still taught the assassin's code to you."

 

Actually, that was not quite how Chun recalled Wu Qing teaching it, or at least not how she herself had interpreted it. It was not that right and wrong did not exist; they were simply a matter of viewpoint. After all, everyone in China saw the Mongols as cruel, rapacious invaders...but from their point of view, they were only seeking land, supplies, and food for their families. The most atrocious, disgusting act suddenly became acceptable, even laudable, if it were done to protect those you loved or had befriended, or for the sake of countless innocents.

 

Conversely, the most kind and benevolent act, such as staying your paw to spare a criminal for trial and judgment, or coming to the aid of a persecuted people, would become unforgivable and earn you enmity and eternal hatred if that criminal escaped to bring more death and suffering, if the people you spared later grew to become tyrants and oppressors in their own right. But she didn't think Xiu would appreciate her nuanced correction, and in any case there was no time.

 

For Jia suddenly had her own dagger out, and had dared to bring it up so that its tip kissed Xiu's throat in turn. "No. I won't let you do this. He _can't_ die. Find someone else…anyone. Just not him."

 

Instinct drove Chun to respond, and the tableau was completed in perfect echo as her dagger pressed to Jia's neck. All three of them froze where they were, muscles stiff, eyes blazing—blue ones filled with hatred, green with desperation, and violet with vindication, respectively. The standoff held, while Ping dangled helplessly, Xiu hissed furiously, and Jia refused to back down, showing more bravery and determination than Chun had ever seen from her. It was a shame, she reflected, that it only came now, when she was outnumbered, when her courage only came along with a pesky conscience, when she would soon be sacrificed for her principles if she wasn't persuaded to give up this foolish crusade.

 

Except, what if it wasn't foolish? What if this way was the true way after all? What if she wasn't the one who was outnumbered, but Xiu was? Jia was right…she had made a promise, just over twenty years ago, and whatever else changed about her, whatever heinous acts she performed, however corrupt and ruined and condemned her soul became, she _would_ not break her word.

 

It was all she had left. It was how she separated herself from Xiu. It was how she kept from going mad, could justify the things she did and reconcile the jobs she took with what her heart told her. And it told her now that perhaps, just this once, it was time to take a stand. To side with the sister she had almost always discounted as a ditz, flighty and frivolous and, at best, an amusing distraction.

 

Maybe she was going mad after all.

 

Ever so slightly, her paw began to tremble, so that the blade of her dagger visibly shook against Jia's neck fur. Seeing this, Xiu narrowed her eyes perceptively, and when she spoke it was in a persuasive, conciliatory tone of voice. "Chun…you know what you have to do. You've always known. Sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Don't let her pathetic little sob story and bleeding heart get to you. We agreed. This has to be done. Stop her. Let me finish this."

 

"No!" Jia bit her lip, tears standing in her eyes. "I know you're better than this. She's ruled my life— _both_ our lives—for far too long. She's wrong. There must be a better way."

 

"There isn't," Xiu said, calmly but with a faint singsong.

 

"Remember what you promised Bao and Li-Na."

 

"There are bigger things at stake here than a pair of giant pandas."

 

" _Nothing's_ bigger than giant pandas," Chun pointed out, for a moment unable to resist seeing the surreal comedy.

 

"This won't get us what we want!" Jia pursued, her expression becoming more heartened as she apparently interpreted her green-eyed sister's quip as a sign she was reconsidering.

 

"Yes, it will," Xiu snapped. "You're just not thinking far enough ahead, as usual."

 

"She has a point," Chun observed.

 

"But…but…" In what seemed a fit of wild desperation, the youngest sister suddenly cried, "If you kill him, we'll never get to have that delicious soup again!"

 

Even pinned where he was, Ping managed to nod rapidly in reply to this line of reasoning.

 

" _She_ has a point too," Chun deadpanned. The twitch of a smirk she allowed at the corner of her mouth hid the fact she was indeed on the verge of capitulating. She knew what was right here, whatever Xiu said…she knew what she had to do. _I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it, and admit it. Forgive me, Bao…_

 

The knife quivered once more, then suddenly wrenched sideways, away from Jia's throat, to join hers in menacing Xiu's. "I think," she said softly, "you should let him go."

 

Those blue eyes narrowed, in hatred and betrayal. Jia looked relieved, her tears becoming ones of happiness. Ping went limp against the wall, looking as if he'd be wiping his brow if his wings were free to do so.

 

And then the door out into the courtyard swung open.

                                                                      

* * *

 

Drumming her fingers impatiently on the tabletop, Xiulan gazed down at the candlelit spread Ping had laid out for her and her husband, and wondered for what had to be the thousandth time how she had let Zhuang talk her into this.

 

They were the only patrons in the courtyard, in the entire noodle restaurant. This was not only due to the rather late hour, but because the bull had specifically reserved this time at the agreement of the goose. Although the surprisingly intimate setting and the privacy they received so little of anymore—Yi was being watched over by the ever-helpful and understanding neighbor Mrs. Liu—made the whole thing rather romantic, that wasn't the main reason for the dinner.

 

Apparently Zhuang had some cockeyed notion that if she spent enough time with Mr. Ping, the noodle-maker would enlighten her and help her overcome the prejudices of the past. She secretly believed it was simply due to the goose's addled brains and flighty attention span, but according to her husband, Ping had accepted Tai Lung with open arms because Po had done so, and because he had seen nothing from the snow leopard to justify further distrust and suspicion. So he had brought her here to see if she could learn from Ping just why he had changed his mind, what was different now about the ex-convict…why she should relent and let go of her hatred.

 

At any other time she would have lashed out with the harshest edge of her tongue, castigating Zhuang at the very least for his incurable optimism, his ridiculous determination to remain naïve and believe the best about everyone no matter how much evidence to the contrary was shoved in front of his muzzle. In many ways, he was like the Dragon Warrior—who, for all his heroism and wisdom, was so utterly clueless as to the way the world really worked.

 

She respected Po as she did so few at the Jade Palace lately, for he had undeniably saved the Valley from a second rampage and slaughter…something she did not think she could face again. But she refused to let his blindness, or her husband's, leave them unprotected when the darkness and unrelenting evil in their midst finally stopped biding its time and struck out to destroy them.

 

For a moment, Xiulan closed her eyes to hold back tears, and could still see the body of her first husband, Dishi, lying crumpled on the street while fires raged around them and smoke rose to the uncaring sky…could see Tai Lung standing across the way, paused long enough in his inexorable progress toward the Jade Mountain to stare at her. She had never been certain if he was sneering at her, feigning sympathy and concern, or simply gazing in bored disinterest, and she didn't care…any of these would be equally as painful, and all that mattered was he was the wicked beast who had slain Dishi. He deserved every amount of horrific punishment and torture ever devised…he deserved to die…

 

Shaking the past away, the bovine seamstress sighed, lowered her head, and knitted her fingers together. The reason she was here, she knew, and the reason she had not torn into Zhuang for suggesting it, was because of the events which had occurred in the Valley since the kung fu masters had returned from the north. Especially what had happened after they left again, this time to head west. Her husband's discovery of Chang and Hai…the odd presence of three strangers in Mr. Ping's kitchen when he made a delivery there, something he would have told Po and the others about posthaste if the horrific find in the ex-foreman's basement hadn't driven it from his mind…

 

And then the news, when Master Shifu and the others had returned, that the monstrous killer had been found and dealt with. That it was not Tai Lung, but Commander Vachir, maddened with rage and revenge after his only prisoner had escaped him…and it had been the snow leopard himself who ended his threat once and for all. With assistance, of course, but still…

 

The deaths in and around the Valley had been disturbing and upsetting to begin with, since unlike Tai Lung's rampage they continued, unabated and trickled out with torturous slowness over several months. Unlike the snow leopard's crimes, which she had to admit had at least all been geared toward one straightforward goal of trying to get to the palace and claim the Dragon Scroll, these killings had been completely random and senseless. They had made her afraid for the first time since news came of the ex-convict's breakout, and with even greater cause.

 

While she had, perhaps irrationally, feared Tai Lung would harm her daughter even though he had no reason to, simply because she fully believed he was a killer through and through who could not resist his murderous impulses, whoever had been committing these atrocities truly had no reason for choosing his victims…which meant they really could be anybody.

 

That hadn't stopped her, of course, from being utterly convinced the snow leopard was the culprit, since even with the differences between these deaths and the rampage of twenty years ago, it had made no sense that there could be _two_ killers on the loose. It had to be that Tai Lung had reverted to form as she had always known he would, had been sneaking out of the palace to coldly and methodically terrorize the Valley in a new and more subtle way...

 

Knowing now instead that it had actually been Vachir who had done this…that one she had once trusted and revered, an honorable and just man who had been tasked with guarding Tai Lung and keeping him from ever rampaging again and harming the citizens of the Valley…that he had become a vile and repulsive beast as bad or worse than his prisoner…this had troubled her deeply. And the fact it was Tai Lung himself who helped put a stop to it had given her pause.

 

She was not ready to forgive him. Not yet. One heroic act, one time he chose the right and noble course, did not undo the malicious crimes of which he was guilty. Assuming he hadn't, somehow, been responsible for the rhino's insanity in the first place, his actions at Chorh-Gom could not excuse him the very real penance and atonement he still needed to perform. But…it was a start.

 

It showed his heart was in the right place. It suggested that, even if she could not trust him yet, at least the snow leopard had not joined his former warden in perpetuating this disgusting killing spree. At least he had seen the difference between right and wrong this time, and worked to redress the balance. If he could do so once, he just might be able to again.

 

So…here she was. Making this one concession, for the sake of her husband's peace of mind, and Yi's regular requests to be able to spend time with her 'kitty' (who, she had to admit, had never once harmed her in all the time they'd been together—though that might have been because Zhuang and everyone else at the palace was watching at the time). Coming to this dinner to see just what Ping might possibly have to say to shed light on his son's new best friend—and, she was not ashamed to admit, out of some concern for the goose's welfare.

 

If they visited him more often, spent more time with him, perhaps he would not be targeted again by those strange women—who, she was as certain as Zhuang was, had been after the Dragon Warrior. The next time she saw the panda, if Zhuang didn't tell him, she would…

 

But what was taking her husband, and the goose, so long? Ping had gone to the kitchen to fetch the next dish, after which he'd said he would sit down with them for a chat, but he had not returned. And Zhuang had gone to check on him…only he hadn't come back either.

 

A sudden dread surged through her, a prescience of impending doom, and immediately she tossed her napkin on the table, rose from her seat, and hurried across the courtyard. If nothing was wrong, they could complain all they liked that she was a nagging worrier…at least that would mean they were alive and well…

 

Yet when she came to the door of the kitchen, which was standing open, Xiulan couldn't hold back a strangled gasp at the scene she beheld within.

 

Three slender, feminine figures had cornered Ping, pressing him to the wall several feet off the floor, and while two of them seemed to be menacing the third with unsheathed daggers, that one had her own pressed to the goose's wildly bobbing Adam's apple. Zhuang stood opposite them, both hands held up in front of him—though whether to lunge forward and try and grab their weapons away or simply to soothe and calm them, she didn't know.

 

But even as she watched, one of the women—snow leopardesses, she saw with a surge of hatred as her hood fell back—turned and pointed her blade at the bull instead. "This is no concern of yours, builder. I suggest you leave now, before someone gets hurt."

 

"Oh come now, Chun," the one holding the knife to Ping's neck said with a chiding, heartlessly light tone that made Xiulan's blood turn to ice in her veins. "The party's just beginning, and the more the merrier, I always say."

 

"Shut up, Xiu," the last snow leopardess said, who still had her own weapon to the blue-eyed killer's throat.

 

"Everyone just calm down," Zhuang said, using the same tone of voice he used to placate her during their arguments and, she suspected, to talk down disgruntled and rioting co-workers. "I'm sure if we just…think about things, and consider all the consequences, we can all get out of here without anybody getting hurt."

 

"You might be right," the green-eyed woman, Chun, said with surprising agreeability. "But you don't have to worry, I had everything under control before you…arrived." Xiulan suspected she had been about to say 'barged in'. "So if you'd just move along, I'll handle this. Please…don't get involved."

 

The kitchen fell silent except for the crackling of the flames in the fireplace and the boiling of something in one of the stewpots. And Ping, who was whimpering and fluttering his wings helplessly—his eyes looked so terrified he probably wouldn't be able to speak coherently even if his bill weren't being held shut. Then, as no one seemed willing or intending to move, Xiulan took a step forward, reaching out toward her husband. "Zhuang? Maybe…maybe you should…do what she says…"

 

Chun regarded the bull dispassionately, but with an unwavering determination in her viridian eyes. The third woman, by contrast, was absolutely pleading with her violet eyes, which looked to still be leaking tears, though why she couldn't fathom. And then, just as it looked as if Zhuang were about to listen, and had started to take a step back and to the side toward Xiulan (thus leaving a path open to the back door), the pinned and dagger-menaced sister let out a high, harsh, cruel laugh, the sort she imagined a demon might let loose, and her mouth twisted in mockery and contempt.

 

"Hah! You've really done a number on Chun…I underestimated you, Jia. You're better, and more dangerous, than I thought! And yes, Master Zhuang, why don't you listen to your little wife, and quit playing the hero. It doesn't suit you, and I don't have time for them…" She laughed again.

 

Again, everyone froze in place. Then her husband stiffened…his eyes widened, then narrowed…and he stepped forward one pace, then another, looming menacingly above the women. "That laugh…I know that laugh. I remember you now. You were the ones in the birch forest! The ones who almost killed Master Tigress! You're the Wu Sisters!"

 

Jia gasped. So did Xiulan, but from recognition rather than having a cover blown. _No! They can't be here in the Valley…there's a bounty on their heads almost as large as the Emperor's entire treasury. They wouldn't dare…_

 

Even as her thoughts raced, and she reached out to catch her husband's shirt sleeve, Xiu had pursed her lips and regarded him with an understanding of her own—and what looked like a delighted superiority. "And you're the one who stopped us from finishing the job. This is the third time now you've interfered with us…the last time, I'm afraid. Such a shame, really…" And suddenly, with a surge of power it seemed impossible her lithe frame should possess, she leaped forward, shoving at both of her siblings, and the kitchen dissolved into chaos.

 

The squawks of Ping abruptly filled the air as he was shoved unceremoniously into Chun's paws, distracting her for a critical moment as she struggled to juggle weapon and bird in her grip. A small but solidly powerful booted foot swung up to kick hard into Jia's belly, and the youngest sister gasped and doubled over, collapsing on the floor. And then Xiu was rushing right at Zhuang, dagger raised high.

 

" ** _NO!_** " Xiulan screamed.

 

She saw the two connect with a solid thud of flesh and bone. She saw Zhuang's hand grab Xiu's wrist with enough force to crush bone, twisting her knife up and away, as he shoved her back several feet across the floor. She saw the assassin somehow summon a well of strength and hold her ground, fangs bared in feral hate, saw an absolute furor of madness in those blazing blue eyes. She saw one cloaked knee come up to catch him in the gut, blocked as he twisted aside and brought his own leg up to intervene.

 

She started to rush forward…but then she felt something tickling her ankle, something that made first her foot, then her entire leg, feel as if it had turned into an ice-covered stick. She looked down…and screamed again.

 

There was a thick, impenetrable mist, black as ebony, swirling and churning across the floor of the kitchen from the direction of the open back door, as if all of them stood in a simmering, murky swamp—she could see strange shapes moving within it that looked terrifyingly like arms, hands, desperate and tormented faces. And a tendril of it had wrapped around her ankle…no matter how she tried to knock it away or kick it apart, it clung to her tenaciously, and the longer it did so, the colder and weaker she felt, as if it were draining her life and strength. Fear, agony, resentment, hate, fury…they all built within her, filled her, seemed to be taking her over…

 

Calling out to Zhuang, she looked up again—and the twin sensations of fear and pure hatred exploded within her. It was no longer Xiu wrestling with her husband, but Tai Lung. A Tai Lung of hulking muscle, seething wickedness, and violent, rampant ferality. A Tai Lung with eyes blazing brighter gold than she had ever seen them but burning a raging red at the core, with teeth flecked with foam and unsheathed claws dripping with blood. A Tai Lung surrounded by the same roiling fog, as if he were made of it or was giving it off. The Tai Lung of her nightmares.

 

Hearing her, the bull turned his head—and in his moment of inattention, the snow leopard ripped his paw free of his opponent's grip, bringing it about and down to invert the dagger and bury it, to the hilt, in his stomach.

 

 

Xiulan cried out again, this time in despair and an agony of grief, the tears already pouring unchecked down her cheeks. _No. Not again! He can't take my husband from me again!_ She stumbled forward.

 

In slow motion, Zhuang dropped his other hand down to his abdomen, clutching futilely at the knife, or perhaps simply trying to hold his innards within him. He lifted his head as if it weighed a thousand pounds, staring at his murderer in shock, disbelief, and confusion. For a moment, his mouth started to form the word 'Why?'

 

Then something seemed to pass over his face…his eyes narrowed…and he gasped, even as he began coughing up blood, "You're…despicable. I know…who you are…I know…the truth…" And he spat in the snow leopard's face as he sank to his knees, then collapsed on the kitchen floor.

 

Smirking, the feline lifted his paw, which was now soaked in the bull's blood, and licked it clean with salacious, decadent slowness. "A real vintage…I should have killed you long ago, fool…" He looked up at Xiulan, a smug and cocky grin on his muzzle, then took a menacing step toward her as he lifted his paws, brandishing all of his claws. "And you'll be next, if you don't flee now. Run, woman…run and spread the word…that Tai Lung is back, and this time he won't rest until everyone in this Valley lies dead at his feet. Run, if you want to live…"

 

Xiulan stared at him in stricken horror. Her eyes flicked past him, briefly, to Chun who looked almost as horrified as she did, to Jia still kneeling on the floor and weeping softly, and then to the spreading crimson stain beneath her husband's body. Then, so swiftly she almost tripped on the hem of her _qipao_ , she did as commanded. She turned and ran from the noodle shop into the darkened, misty streets of the village, trailing tatters and streamers of the black fog which even now danced and coiled all around her—ran like a woman possessed, as she screamed desperately, piercingly, and viscerally into the night.

 

Death stalked the Valley of Peace this night, in the spotted fur and flesh they knew all too well, and this time nothing could save them from its clutches.

                                                                      

* * *

 

Shuddering, gasping, and feeling incredibly faint and on the verge of emptying her stomach, Wu Xiu stumbled backwards away from Zhuang's still twitching, jerking body—yet she also felt an indescribable rapture flowing through her every vein as the dark _chi_ enveloped, cloaked, and nourished her. When Heian Chao withdrew his essence, and the momentary possession that had overlain her appearance with that of Tai Lung's, she actually felt a pang of loss, an insatiable yearning for it to come back and fill her to the uttermost.

_This_ was what it felt like, _this_ was the true nature of the _chi_ wizard's power. It was everything she had dreamed of and more. She had to have it again, she had to have it all—she would not rest, she would do whatever he asked of her if she could only feel that again, have the ability to call on the power whenever she wished. What a dark consort she would make…what a perfect killer that could never be evaded. She would be the greatest assassin in the history of China, the one no one could ever deny.

 

She would outshine her mother and every Wu before her, for she would be eternal, she would be able to poison with a touch, kill with a thought, siphon the essence from any mark or anyone who merely looked at her wrong…leaving only dust and ash that could never be identified, never traced back to her. She would live forever. She would decree who lived and died, and only when all acknowledged her supremacy would she deign to allow them to serve her…

 

Looking up as Chao drifted back from her, then solidified again and resumed his normal cloaked appearance, she smiled at him—shakily at first, then with increasing confidence and pleasure. "What a delicious choice, sir. You should do that more often."

 

He regarded her candidly for several moments, as best she could tell, then nodded slowly. "Perhaps so. You at least seem to understand…and to deserve my gifts. So who was the peasant?"

 

Xiu sneered down at the bull. "Would you believe a deliveryman and construction worker? He's been getting in our way for some time, it seems…he stopped us from milking information out of Ping, and from killing Tigress. From what I've heard around the village, he also seems to have befriended Tai Lung…and he was the one who found the Weis and freed them."

 

Chao paused, remaining silent for at least a minute, and when he spoke again there was a definite note of satisfaction and irony in his tone. "How…fitting. 'There are no accidents', indeed. You have done well…all the pieces are finally falling into place." He reached out and brushed a shadowy wing against her cheek; she shivered, in fear and ecstasy. "You know what to do. I shall be waiting to hear of your success with the Dragon Warrior…and to take advantage of what this little crisis will do to the Valley, and the palace.

 

"Mantis is dead, Monkey is incarcerated, and the others save Tigress are consumed with doubt and uncertainty, distrust and anger. They will be no trouble now, they have been divided…soon, they will fall, and once you have killed Tigress, all shall be ours, as I have foreseen…" With those words, he dissipated once more into shadow and mist, whipping away upon the wind and flowing out the door—to join, it seemed, with the dark _chi_ that had flooded and haunted the streets this night.

 

Kneeling down beside Zhuang's body, Xiu casually jerked her dagger free and wiped it clean with a cloth she extracted from a pocket of her tunic. As she stowed the knife away in its sheath, she glanced up at her sisters—pure ire and hate in her gaze as she eyed Jia, disappointment and disbelief as she regarded Chun.

 

"Well. You should count yourselves lucky Chao didn't see that little disagreement of ours—or that if he did, he cared more about the ultimate results than what happened beforehand. Chun…only because you have never betrayed me before, do I excuse what you did, or tried to do. But don't let me ever catch you doing anything like it again. Not if you expect to live. And Jia…it has been years since you last tried to defy me, so I will look the other way this one last time. Cross the line once more, and both you and Mei Ling's lives will be forfeit. You know I can do it, and I will."

 

She had not forgiven them in the slightest of course, nor would she ever forget their treachery. But the simple fact was, no matter how it galled her to admit it, she could not succeed without Chun and Jia. She would not be able to kill Tigress, or claim Tai Lung as her own, without assistance; that much was perfectly clear after Yunxian and the birch forest. She did not understand why they had turned on her, but she knew that despite everything, Jia would still stand by her if it meant getting rid of her hated striped rival.

 

And after that? Well, after that, she would have the _chi_ powers of Heian Chao, and Tai Lung at her side as her wicked consort. She would not need her sisters anymore. They would be expendable…useless…worthless…and she would take great pleasure in killing both of them. Especially Jia. Did it make her mad to contemplate such a thing, or to not eliminate them now while she had the chance? No, not at all…she could not fight them both at once, not in Ping's noodle shop with the city watch on the way. And she was not mad, merely driven and determined, an elite warrior who knew when to pick her battles and how to take advantage of even her sisters-turned-enemies. Yes, that was it…

 

By the time she had finished speaking, her whole body was trembling with her barely pent-up rage, and she could feel a muscle spasming in her cheek while her paws shook until she forcibly put a stop to it by clenching them. _I mustn't show weakness. Not now, not ever. I am grace, I am calm and cold, I am death itself. Yes, Mother. I hear you. I won't fail you again, I promise. Please don't hurt me again. I'll be good, I'll be your perfect daughter, the perfect assassin, I promise…_

 

When she looked up, her palsy-like shuddering and tremors stilled, the voices silenced within the vaults of her mind, she saw both her sisters looking at her—Chun with one lip curled in vague unease and disgust, Jia's jaw quivering in fear and pity. Furious, she shot straight to her feet and stalked toward them. She was gratified to see both of them back away from her immediately, Jia almost tripping over a stool.

 

"What are you looking at? Why are you just standing there? We have work to do, and we mustn't be caught here when the authorities arrive. That'll undo everything we've accomplished this night." She reached out and snatched Tai Lung's fur from the pocket of Chun's cloak and turned back to begin scattering it over the bull's body and around him on the floor.

 

As she did so, she snapped back over her shoulder. "Get going, Chun. You know the next step. Jia, we'll be taking Ping with us. You were right about one thing…this way _is_ eminently better. We have a dead innocent to blame on Tai Lung, and we still have leverage to use on the panda as well." She grunted to herself; that was the only other reason why she wasn't gutting both her sisters right this second. But it would not spare them for long...

 

Quietly, her middle sister sheathed her dagger and strode past her, cloak billowing, until she too had passed into the night's gyrating, maleficent shadows. After she had departed, a soft sobbing came from the other side of the kitchen. Looking up as she applied her claws to Zhuang's stomach, so as to disguise the nature of the wound and make it seem the body had been savaged by a true beast, Xiu saw Ping dangling limply in the curve of Jia's arms. "Wh-why? I…I d-don't understand! Why are you doing this…?"

 

"Power, of course," she observed clinically. "What Chao can give us, and what we'll gain when Tai Lung serves him, stands at our side. But if you mean, why didn't we kill you, and why aren't we simply killing Po…" She fixed her gaze on those bulging eyes. "Two words, and I think they'll have a lot of meaning for you: Bao…and Li-Na."

 

Slowly, she watched understanding appear on the goose's face, and as he turned ever more ashen and sickly beneath his feathers, Xiu smiled to herself. There were still more wrinkles to reveal, more entertainment to be had, and more influence to obtain. _Yes. A loose end of the past to tie up…and when we have, the Dragon Warrior won't know what hit him…_

                                                                      

* * *

 

In another part of the village, jogging slowly down a side street, uncertain about the future and also trying to pace himself so as not to run out of breath (he was in much better condition now, but it was better not to chance it), Po paused in the middle of an intersection and glanced around, clasping his paws nervously. This late at night, of course, hardly anyone was about. Normally the panda would not be afraid of the dark—like most children, he had been as a cub, but those fears were usually left behind come adulthood, and indeed he'd often found night to be one of the most serene, reassuring, pleasant times of the day for him.

 

Perhaps this was an affinity he felt for the darkness, since his Yin was so prominent; perhaps it was simply because the daytime was usually much more stressful for him, since it usually combined the constant pressure of keeping up with orders at his father's noodle shop with the blazing sun beating down upon his thickly-furred and padded bulk.

 

Regardless, night had been a time for him to truly be himself, all his years of growing up—whenever his father hadn't needed him rolling out dough, slicing vegetables, arranging dishes, and otherwise preparing for the next day's meal rush, Po could be found in his room, poring almost religiously over the scrolls he'd collected relating the legends of the Furious Five and tales of other famous kung fu warriors from all across China.

 

It had been a time of dreams for him—both the lovely reveries he'd have staring off into space and the sort he had when he went to sleep. It had felt welcoming, like the arms of a mother he'd never known, when he was lonely and sad…especially his first night at the Jade Palace, when the terrible treatment from the Five (most notably Tigress) had driven him to take refuge beneath the boughs of the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom. It had even been a time of camaraderie and bonding when he'd first started bringing down the barriers between himself and the Five, that night in the dormitory kitchen.

 

But now…now he had good reason to fear the darkness. Vachir might be gone, and Monkey was back to his old self—he hoped. But this Heian Chao was still out there, and the Wu Sisters too. The latter could come swooping out of nowhere, as they'd proven that night Mei Ling had come to his rescue…and this _chi_ wizard could, it seemed, literally form out of the shadows anywhere and everywhere.

 

Recalling what the bodies had looked like which Chao had murdered while residing in the rhino…what he had seen on the walls of Monkey's room…the tales the others had told him of Chorh-Gom…and what Zhuang had whispered brokenly over a mug of _shaojiu_ , trembling and white-faced as he sat in the kitchen with Po and Mei Ling, after they and the doctor had done what they could to bandage and treat the Weis' wounds…recalling all of this, it was all the panda could do not to turn and flee in gibbering terror back to the safety of the Jade Palace.

 

 _I still can't believe it. Commander Vachir...biggest hero of the Mongol Wars, leader of the Anvil of Heaven...turned into a sick monster. All those poor people..._ He shuddered and choked back his tears. Between that and what had been done to Monkey, everything was turned upside down and inside out, nothing made sense any more.

 

Yet it wasn't just the fact Tai Lung and the others hadn't run away, that he was the Dragon Warrior and had to be brave and heroic, or that he knew there were so many here to help protect him or else stand at his side, that he stayed right where he was. It was that he'd promised Zhuang he'd come down to meet him and his wife at the noodle shop. He'd gotten the impression there was something plaguing the bull's mind, something disturbing but very important he'd put off telling him that now absolutely had to be revealed.

 

But all the builder had said was that he was trying to use the death of Vachir, and Tai Lung's part in it, to sway Xiulan's way of thinking—get her to at least lay off of the snow leopard and leave him alone in peace, if not actually put her hatred and prejudice to rest. Whatever else was going on, Po had at once leaped at the chance, as anything that made life easier for his friend, and could help mend fences so that there truly could be peace and happiness in the Valley, was something he wanted to lend all his support.

_Did it have t' be so scary an' dark tonight, though?_

 

As if that whimpering thought had somehow been spoken aloud, or read by someone unseen, there suddenly came the sound of a scream splitting the silence of the night. It didn't stop, either, but repeated itself endlessly as the one making it—a woman, by the sound of it—ran through the streets somewhere out of sight. She seemed to be moving away from him, judging by how her cries were gradually getting fainter, but that didn't stop Po from almost leaping out of his pelt, whirling about in mid-air, and landing forcefully in a Dragon stance, one paw upraised in a Tiger Fist, the other drawn back and held down at his side, ready to lash out in an Eagle Claw.

 

There was no one around him still, nothing to be seen except the strangely swirling, almost mystical fog which had begun to descend from the mountain slopes to completely shroud and cover the village, the streets, and all the land around him. There was also nothing to hear, although he thought he saw lights coming on in some distant houses in the direction the screaming woman had fled. Again and again he turned around, determined never to leave any of the streets to his back for more than a few moments…but there was never anything there, nothing but vague, writhing shapes hidden in the mist. Some looked almost human, and others…far less so. He wasn't certain which ones were worse.

 

Po was still standing in the middle of the crossing, listening intently to signs creaking in the wind and lanterns rocking on posts, wishing fervently even one of them was lit to ward away the shadows, when he froze. Breathing. He knew he'd heard it…nearby, measured and steady, and coming from right behind him. Without warning, he whirled about as fast as he possibly could, bringing up one paw in a perfect Crane deflection strike. It lashed out, struck toward his target—and at the last second was stopped by something solid and round, made of wood and metal. A Fire Wheel.

 

On the other side of the ring, peering through its circular opening from beneath her _li_ , Wu Chun stood, slim and still and silent. Oddly, there was a small smile on her face, one almost of approval, as well as a strange gauntness and worry in her narrow features. "Very good, Dragon Warrior. You're definitely getting better. I guess I'd better watch out, I might not catch the next one."

 

"Darn right you won't," he retorted, keeping his voice as low and menacing as he could make it. He wasn't certain how successful he was, but at least he didn't sound like his usual excitable, comical self. "I dunno what you want, Chun, but you're all alone here, an' I'm not gonna go easy on ya, not anymore. It's just you an' me, an' I can bet ya you're not gonna find me such a pushover now."

 

"I wouldn't doubt it," the green-eyed Wu Sister said lightly, easily. "But there's no need to lose your britches, big guy. I'm not here to fight you. See?" And she briefly fluttered a white cloth, the universal symbol of surrender or parley.

 

He didn't trust her, not one bit. He wasn't even sure he trusted Jia, and she hadn't even fought him that day at the bunkhouse, where he'd led her to gain the advantage of close quarters. Oh, there had been a few half-hearted exchanges of kicks and blows, a few throwing stars tossed his way he'd dodged easily, and a whirl of her second meteor hammer that he'd ducked, only to give it the same treatment he had the first in the Hall of Warriors, jerking it away and tossing it out the window to disappear down the forested slope.

 

But once that was out of the way, the youngest Wu Sister hadn't seemed interested in fighting at all—of all things, she'd seemed to want to talk. Even stranger, all of her questions seemed to be centered around him and his past: where he came from, how he came to be raised by Mr. Ping, if he remembered anything about his parents or had ever been told about them by the goose.

 

Even if he'd had answers to give her, he'd have been wary—was she simply trying to mislead him, make him think she was kind and caring unlike her siblings, so he'd let his guard down at the wrong moment? Was she trying to learn about him to find some weakness, to learn how her sisters could exert pressure upon him, through Ping or his unknown family? Or was she actually genuinely curious about him, why he wanted to study kung fu, how he came to be on the Jade Mountain?

 

Whatever the reason, he hadn't had anything to give her and wasn't sure he wanted to. When she'd asked about how he was chosen as the Dragon Warrior, she'd seemed truly sympathetic, even amused—though laughing with him, not at him. And when she'd wanted to know how he unlocked the secret powers of the Dragon Scroll and he'd explained, as succinctly and sideways as possible, she had seemed startled, awed, and deeply impressed. She'd asked to sit down, to learn more about his unique way of looking at the world and studying kung fu…the nearest room had been Monkey's…and from there, the rest was history.

 

He still didn't know what she'd really wanted, why she had quizzed him like that, whether she was the least or most dangerous of the Wu Sisters, the kindest or the most wily and diabolical. But he did know that he didn't want the others to know she was interested in him and why—the last thing he needed was to have questions about his family and past he couldn't and didn't want to answer coming at him from all sides.

 

He also knew he couldn't afford to trust Jia, even if she had seemed genuinely upset by what they'd found in Monkey's room, just as he couldn't trust Chun now. Even if the middle sister was true to her word and meant him no harm (at the moment), that could change in an eye blink, and if it weren't for Xiu, the green-eyed sister would scare him the most; both of them might have left the dormitory without a fight that day, but that surely had more to do with being injured and not ready to face Mei again, not any sort of altruism. What could she possibly want?

 

The assassins might be good at dissembling, obfuscating the truth, indulging in clever wordplay and mysterious portents, but Po had always been the simple and direct sort. He always would be, and being around Tai Lung had only intensified his determination not to beat around the bush.

 

"Fine," he said flatly. "You're not here to fight. Then what _do_ ya want? I got somewhere t' be, so ya better make this quick. An' don't think I'm not gonna tell everyone else you were here, and what you were up to."

 

"Yes," Chun agreed, "you _do_ have somewhere to be, though not where you think. And this won't take long, but I don't think you'll be telling anyone about this meeting. At least, I wouldn't advise it." Before he could retort an angry reply, she held up a slender paw, even as she lowered her fire wheel back into concealment. "I'm here to offer you a deal."

 

"What kinda deal? You mean, like the kind ya tried t' get Tai Lung t' take? If so, not interested." He was quite proud of how firm and resolved his voice sounded.

 

"Not quite." The Wu Sister's tone became oddly cajoling, imploring, while for the first time since he'd met her, he saw real emotion on her face and in her eyes: what looked like regret, sorrow, and concern. "I'm sure you know by now that our employer—"

 

"Yeah, Heian Chao," he cut in, and was rewarded by a clear moment of open shock on Chun's face. She even staggered back a step, clearly caught off-guard at him knowing this information. He crowed in silent exultation inside his head; he had the upper hand, now!

 

"—he does not wish you at Tai Lung's side, or even involved in the upcoming battles at all," she continued unevenly after a pregnant pause.

 

Po posted his fists on his hips and eyed her skeptically. "Duh. Well guess what? Wish in one paw, spit in the other, an' see which one gets full first. You can tell Chao that from me. I ain't backin' down, an' I'm gonna keep fightin' 'til we've got peace in the Valley, an' he's dead an' gone."

 

Chun eyed him with a new and critical eye, and seemed quite unsettled and amazed by what she saw in him. But she only nodded and took a moment to spread her war fan before her face, concealing it while she composed herself. "Yes, of course. I was fairly certain that would be your answer. But you should hear me out first."

 

Something in her voice—its serious tone, or the regret and unease that still shone in her eyes—gave him pause. He relaxed his fists, letting them hang at his sides. "I'm listenin'."

 

"We were hired to kill you. But that is not the only way this conflict can be decided. If you…choose to sit the fight out, if you do not stand with the Four or come to Tai Lung's aid, then your life will be spared. All you must do is come to Wu Dan by tomorrow morning, and stay there with us until this is concluded. Come alone…if you don't, Xiu will be rather unhappy, and you don't want to see her when she's unhappy."

 

Po didn't know what stunned him more—that Chun dared give him helpful advice and act as if she truly cared and he should believe this, that a deal like this would be set before him at all, or that the Sisters had any genuine expectation he'd accept it. He also didn't know whether he was more furious, puzzled, or disgusted.

 

He settled for sardonic, Tai Lung's stock-in-trade. "Uh-huh. Right. That's all I gotta do. Just sit on my paws the whole time, pretend my friends an' my master aren't fightin' for their lives against you and a creepy shadow dude, that th' Valley and th' whole friggin' empire isn't in terrible danger. In other words, let down Master Oogway, my dad, Master Shifu, an' myself by not bein' a hero when it counts. An' you'll let me live."

 

To her credit, Chun winced as she heard it laid out in such plain, unadorned, cruelly blatant language. "That's about the size of it, panda. Look, I didn't draw up the terms or anything, I'm just the one they sent to give you the message. It's up to you what to do with it."

 

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he tried to fight off the sense that he was missing something huge, that the cold he felt spreading throughout his body was not just due to the mist and fog. He stared at her fixedly. "Okay. Then tell me one thing: what in th' heck makes you think I'd even consider for one second doin' what you 'ladies' want?"

 

Now, all emotion and expression was wiped from her countenance, presenting him an indifferent mask that was all the more disconcerting compared to the outright pleading that had been there before. "We have your father."

                                                                       

* * *

 

Elsewhere still, his eyes closed, massive ears pricked—not only to hear any physical sound, but also attuned to the spiritual realm—and both hands resting on his knees while he sat in the lotus position, Master Shifu tried to clear his mind and meditate. Even now, after Po's victory over Tai Lung had been a balm to his soul and brought him more release, calm, and understanding than he'd had for over twenty years, he still found it difficult to achieve inner peace.

 

It wasn't just that this sort of thing was not his forte, that he had always been more practical than metaphysical, that he believed more in training the body to peak condition and learning every single move contained within the thousand scrolls than in matters of faith and philosophy.

 

It wasn't even that the discovery that Tai Lung and Tigress had become romantically involved was still quite prominent in his mind—although he had to admit part of him _was_ still deeply concerned at this development and worried about the consequences, he had meant what he said in the bunkhouse: he was happy for his adopted children, that they of all people had buried the hatchet and managed to find each other. He truly hoped, once all this was resolved, they would have a long, productive life of love and peace together.

 

It was that very fact—what there was still to resolve, and that he hadn't a clue how to do so—that lay so heavily on his weary mind.

 

On the one hand, everything Tai Lung had told him of Oogway's words on the night of the full moon, the later information he had been given by both the snow leopard and Tigress which they had obtained from Vachir before his death, and the little he'd succeeded in gleaning from the depressed and guilt-ridden Monkey, told Shifu that they were completely outclassed here. _Or, as Mantis might have put it, we don't have a snowball's chance in hell of winning this._

 

Quickly he forced his mind away from the insect before he could become incapacitated by the stabbing ache of grief, although he did have to briefly put one paw to his forehead, and wipe away an unobtrusive tear.

 

On the other hand, even though it seemed patently impossible they could defeat someone who could literally reach into a person to twist and manipulate his _chi_ to his own ends, someone who could appear and disappear at will, someone who could at least partially raise the dead, someone Oogway himself could not defeat…at the same time, something about all this seemed maddeningly familiar to him. That he had heard about, or read about, such a legend before, somewhere. Had learned how such a creature had come about, and more importantly what his weaknesses were, how he could be defeated once and for all.

 

But every time he tried to recall it, it slipped away. He didn't know whether to blame (and curse) his old age, Chao's mind-fogging techniques, or the simple passage of time and inattention to detail when he'd had so much to study and master as a kung fu student—how could he have known he'd ever be called upon to remember something like this?

 

Whatever the cause, it was this inability to pin his finger on the truth that might well save them all which kept distracting him when he tried to meditate. Which was ironic, since it was entirely possible meditation might clear his mind enough to help him remember. But that only put even more pressure on him—the more important it was he achieve that state of perfect serenity and enlightenment, the less likely it was to happen. Hence why he had come here, to the moonlit Hall of Warriors, to see if he could commune better beside the Moon Pool.

 

Letting out another heavy sigh, trying to exhale out all his bitterness and frustration, his worry and fear, the red panda tried yet again—this time resting his paws on Oogway's staff which lay across his lap, and which he'd kept with him ever since Tai Lung's sudden advice. "Inner…inner…inner _peace_ …come on, I know you're in there! Inner…inner peace…"

 

Suddenly, without warning, the staff in his hands flared with a burning heat, as if it had been set aflame. Popping his eyes open frantically, he looked down to see the entire haft of wood was glowing with a familiar golden light…and as the effulgence grew and spread to shine across the surface of the pool before him, something seemed to shimmer in the air, changing what he saw. Although in the days immediately after the sage's passing, Shifu had kept up the tradition of anointing the Moon Pool with blossoms fetched from the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom, he had gotten out of the habit in the last month or so—he'd had a lot on his mind after all, he thought defensively.

 

But now, instead of the few lonely blooms drifting idly on the crystal-blue surface, there seemed to be a whole petal-fall descending through the rippling air above the water—ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred blossoms fluttering down in a soft and gentle rain of white and palest pink, as if someone intended to completely carpet the Moon Pool in them, then bury him and cover the floor of the Sacred Hall, too.

 

Except…something else happened, something that both horrified him and filled him with a pained despair. For just as the sense of peace and calm, insight and wisdom, that he had been seeking seemed about to wash over him, the first petals came to rest on the surface of the pool. And in the instant that they did, every one began to shrivel and curl in on itself, turning an unrelieved black as they rotted away and gave off a choking, noxious fume.

 

By the time the last flower had fallen, the Moon Pool was so thick with them that it too seemed to have become black, and even after the blossoms dissolved utterly into dust and blew away on the wind, the waters seemed to have changed permanently to a churning, roiling whirlpool of gleaming ink that threatened to swallow all light, to absorb all life, until nothing was left of the Valley but an ash-strewn, ghost-ridden, deathless landscape, one that would slowly grow ever outward, inexorably gaining in size, until inevitably it engulfed all of China, the whole world even…

 

Gasping as if he'd been underwater and his lungs about to burst for air, Shifu lurched backward, toppling on his side. The staff slipped from his hands as they flew up to his face to cover it, to conceal the horrible sight, perhaps even to claw his eyes out. But…as suddenly as the vision had overcome him, it was gone, receding into the back of his mind. The fume dissipated, leaving only the scent of cherry and peony on the breeze…the sense of being choked and strangled vanished…and as he sat up and looked wildly about, he saw the flowers and the light were gone, and the Moon Pool was as placid, empty, and gleaming with silvery moonlight as it had been before.

 

Swallowing hard, the red panda was not surprised that his hand shook as he reached to grasp the staff again, using it as a brace to lever himself to his feet. Although he had never experienced one before—though he supposed, with Oogway gone, it was his province now and he should expect more of them—he knew instinctively as well as from descriptions in the scrolls what that had been. A premonition. He was not altogether certain of its meaning—corruption? Impending death? Darkness consuming the Valley? The laying of a curse?—but in generalities it was quite clear. _We're in trouble. This does **not** look good._

 

As he was staring down into the pristine depths of the pool, wondering just what he could possibly do to prevent this terrible future, whatever it was, from coming to pass, there came a sudden, and quite insistent, knocking on the doors of the Jade Palace. "What the…?" Who could it be, at this time of night—and so demanding?

 

Hurrying over to the towering panels, he still had to endure two more repetitions of the now wild, nearly frantic, knocking before he got there. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Lifting the latch, he tugged on the massive gold and wood beam that held the doors shut…but as he finally opened them so he could peer out onto the porch, he was startled all over again by who stood there. "Magistrate? What's wrong? For heaven's sake, why ever are you here at this hour?"

 

The ram, who while not quite as old as Shifu was certainly getting up there in years, seemed a contradiction—one moment he appeared extremely apologetic, regretful, even nervous, the next he seemed filled to the brim with pompous posturing and a definite cruel smugness. Drawing himself up to his full height, he gathered his robes about him in the night, and the panda noticed he wore his guan and the medallion that was his badge of office.

 

Not only was this rather unusual for a fellow who, as long as he'd known him, had never set much store by ceremony and in fact had always been endearingly humble, it was something never done unless he were acting in an official capacity—and one that called upon the highest gravitas and utmost respect.

 

"A mere formality, Shifu," he sniffed disdainfully, then looked stricken—as well he might, for he had _never_ failed to use the panda's proper titles and honorifics before. The mist and fog, which seemed a very strange shade of black even in the moonlight, swirled and poured up the steps, wrapping around the ram's feet like a playful kitten.

 

"Just came to inform you, there's been a terrible crime down in the village, and we're going to be trying the offender tomorrow morning. It's a foregone conclusion he'll be found guilty—caught red-handed, didn't have an alibi, we've got an eyewitness and everything—but it's proper procedure for you to be told."

 

"Why?" Shifu frowned, even as alarm bells were ringing in the back of his head. "Did you need me to officiate, or to corroborate your findings?"

 

"No, although you're welcome to sit in if you wish," the magistrate said with casual indifference. "It does after all concern you quite personally." He started to turn away, then looked back, his expression flickering between one of sympathy and satisfied contempt. "You are the next of kin."

 

" _What_? What are you talking about? What's happened, what's the charge?" Shifu practically leaped out the door to grab the ovine by his cross-collar, shaking him.

 

"Tai Lung has been arrested," he said calmly, with conviction. "For the murder of Shen Zhuang."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly am sorry for having killed Zhuang. I loved him too, he was an awesome character. But someone had to die to prove how truly serious Chao and the Sisters were, and it only makes sense they'd escalate things after what happened at Chorh-Gom. If it makes you feel any better, I seriously debated having it be Xiulan who died, but I left her alive for several reasons that will eventually become clear. And despite his death (and final Crowning Moment of Awesome to Xiu/Chao), you will be seeing Zhuang again before the fic ends.


	35. Behind Stone Walls

 

 

Light, warm and inviting as the early autumn day of which it was a part, spilled down through the bars of the small, latticed window to wash across the stone floor of the otherwise dismal, dimly-lit cell. As he had once before, just over three months ago, Shifu stood outside the locked door, concealed within the dusty shadows while he gazed inside at his adopted son. But this time, he actually stood within a real prison, the village's local jail belonging to the magistrate and overseen by a small but dedicated garrison of guardsmen. This time, he had taken great pains to ensure Tai Lung did not yet know he was there, not until he was ready to face him…to see him in such a state again.

 

And this time, while he trusted the snow leopard almost one hundred percent and believed this whole venture to be mad, pointless, and a ridiculous waste of time, somehow he was filled with just as much worry, depression, and despair as he had been after the battered feline was first brought to the Jade Palace.

 

Outside the jail, he could hear quite clearly the constant shuffling of feet, the clatter of hand tools, the thud and bang of wood being carved and hewn, and the endless conversation of unseen people—things he knew Tai Lung could hear just as well. It was midmorning, the best time of the day to work on such projects before the heat of the noonday sun became too intense and other concerns, such as vending in the marketplace and preparing meals, took precedence. But that wasn't why the citizens of the Valley were so hard at work now. It was because they were already zealously intent upon fashioning the means of Tai Lung's execution.

 

Shifu sighed, tried to hold back a groan of weariness and frustration, and put his face in his hand. He had fought against this at every turn, had been up all hours of the night arguing with everyone who butted heads with him on this, until he'd had to drink cup after cup of oolong just to stay conscious let alone be able to focus. He had spoken vehemently, again and again, on the importance of rule of law, on deeming someone innocent until proven guilty, on the absolute necessity of hearing every piece of evidence and weighing it accordingly so that proper justice could be achieved.

 

And all he had received for his troubles was to be told severely, in no uncertain terms, that any information he had which was relevant to Tai Lung's innocence in the case at hand should not be given out until the proper time, when it could be sworn to before the court. This would seem like rational and appropriate thinking…save for the fact that despite this deferment of evidence until the trial, the erection of the gibbet on which the snow leopard would be hanged—which was now taking place in the square outside—rather suggested the minds of the magistrate and the rest of the village were already made up.

_I suppose I should be grateful they didn't choose a more cruel and inhumane form of execution. Xiulan certainly wanted them to._

 

The cow woman had been hysterical with rage and grief when he'd briefly met with her a few hours ago, and rightfully so, babbling incessantly about Tai Lung's maddened eyes, bloody claws, and snarling, bestial roars as he stabbed her husband right in front of her—insisting he had reverted to his old ways and that he had to be stopped now, before it was too late for the rest of the Valley. She'd also been quite lurid in her description of what should be done to Tai Lung for this unforgivable crime, and many among the magistrate's functionaries and the guards at the jail seemed to be of the same opinion.

 

Whatever headway had been made toward convincing everyone of his son's transformation and redemption had all turned to ash and dust as soon as this charge was leveled in his direction. And the one voice Shifu had been convinced would speak for mercy, leniency, or at least following procedure and protocol, had turned instead to contempt and towering resentment.

 

Fu Xiao, the magistrate, had always been a gentle and consistently reasonable man, albeit seeming at times to be disgruntled and annoyed at the fact his authority was usurped by the kung fu masters who lived atop the Jade Mountain. Though never once showing disrespect or anger, especially not to Oogway, the ram had often made it clear that he disliked playing second fiddle to those whose only superiority came from their fighting prowess and not any experience legislating or obtaining common sense wisdom.

 

Of course, like all other citizens of the Valley, Fu had been grateful to the Furious Five and their masters for the protection they offered, but he had felt this extended only to intervening when bandits or invading armies threatened their well-being, to physical defense and guardianship alone…that anything beyond this, particularly sticking their noses into everyday, ordinary affairs, was at best completely unnecessary and at worst an undermining of his importance and influence in the community.

 

Prior to this, Fu Xiao had limited his disparagement and resentment to minor displays of irritation—grumbling and crossing his arms severely when Shifu, the departed Oogway, and the other residents of the Jade Palace were given the seats of honor at the Ghost Festival; muttering upon being told that the Five and Tai Lung were to raise a new span on the Thread of Hope that it was only fitting, since it was their fault the old one had fallen in the first place; a peeved comment, after Tai Lung's first visit to the village in the company of Tigress, that he would have appreciated some advance warning of the excursion; and a fairly deep sigh of relief, as they were setting off for Bao Gu and Yunxian, to the effect that while the masters were away, he could get some actual work accomplished without them superseding him.

 

But ever since their return from the north, and especially during the month and a half of Tigress's convalescence, the magistrate had become increasingly vocal, volatile, and harsh in his judgments—especially wherever the snow leopard was concerned. Some of this was likely not helped by the fact he was friends with both Wei Chang and Shen Xiulan, as well as him not being a party to Shifu's decisions regarding his son.

 

First the snow leopard had been locked away in the palace, kept from going on another rampage to be sure but also out of Fu's reach—like many others in the Valley, he had believed lifelong imprisonment in Chorh-Gom was not enough punishment. (Little did he know what else had happened to Tai Lung there…) Then the red panda's offer, the spotted feline's acceptance of it, and all the interaction, training, and character building which had followed this—all of it occurring without the ram's say-so or approval, his opinions given no weight or merit, his input completely excluded from the proceedings, as if he were deemed far too biased…or far too worthless…to be allowed any chance to agree or disagree.

 

Needless to say, seeing Tai Lung free to wander the town unchaperoned when he'd been procuring gifts to further his romantic plans—and also, incidentally, leaving him perfectly capable of committing the heinous murders surrounding the Valley—had not endeared the ex-convict or his father to Fu either.

 

So now, when Shifu approached the ovine on the matter of Tai Lung's arrest and imminent trial, the man had taken what seemed inordinate, even gloating, pleasure in refusing each and every one of his requests: to delay the matter until more proof could be obtained; to dismiss the case based on there only being circumstantial evidence—since the testimony of Xiulan, a witness clearly lacking in credibility, determined nothing by itself; even the explanation of the presence of the Wu Sisters and Heian Chao in the Valley.

 

This last was brushed aside as something to be presented to the full court, if at all, although Fu had made it as plain as polished brass that he'd never heard of Chao—who therefore belonged in the same 'uncorroborated' camp as Shifu claimed Xiulan's observations did—and the assassins would have no reason to blame a fellow snow leopard for a crime they'd committed. In fact, past tales suggested the opposite, that the women would brazenly and proudly admit to their repugnant acts.

 

And when the red panda had protested that surely all the weeks in which Tai Lung had been free to rampage again and had not done so proved he was a changed man, Fu Xiao had only retorted that this would never have happened if he hadn't allowed the snow leopard such free rein in the first place—that he should have known better, consulted with him, at the very least allowed for the proper placement of soldiers and wardens to both protect the people and keep a close eye on Tai Lung.

 

As a result, Shifu had finally come here, to visit his son in his solitary confinement…again. Partly to learn from the leopard's own mouth what had transpired the night before, to gather facts and help prepare a solid defense that would prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tai Lung could not possibly have committed this dastardly murder. But also because, secretly, buried deep down where he did not want to admit it or bring it out into the light, the panda held a sliver of uncertainty. He was afraid, even now, that he might be wrong…that the snow leopard had indeed killed the bull despite all the reasons he should not, and could not.

 

The only one to see what had happened was Xiulan, but while she certainly wasn't reliable, neither could he discount the possibility that Heian Chao could have driven Tai Lung to this. Surely, after the death of Vachir and the release of Monkey from his control, the _chi_ wizard would be desperate to strike out, to make another furious attempt to wrest the snow leopard away from the good and righteous path, to corrupt and consume Tai Lung or else eliminate him as a threat once and for all.

 

If he could turn Monkey of all people into his wicked, heartless instrument, then surely the snow leopard, even changed as he was, made an even more susceptible and tempting target. Shifu knew his son had been in the village—he'd sent him there himself. He'd seen the telltale black mist on the palace steps the night before. And that premonition at the Moon Pool…a warning come, perhaps, too late…

 

He had to know for sure. He had to find out if, no matter how much he hoped and prayed otherwise, his son had regressed and given in to the darkness again, had been manipulated into this foul deed he otherwise would not have even contemplated. If Chao were ultimately responsible, of course, then it changed nothing as far as he was concerned—but the townsfolk, particularly Fu and Xiulan, would never believe the truth. He would be hard-pressed to explain this villain's nature and powers, since he didn't know it all himself and could hardly produce Oogway's ghost on demand to provide justification.

 

The people would demand recompense, they were howling for blood and in a way, he could not blame them. If this were the case, the best he could hope for would be Tai Lung's continued imprisonment until the rest of them could hunt down the Sisters and eliminate Chao. And the worst…?

 

He hoped this bit of doubt he felt was wrong, that it was less a hint of intuition and insight into the truth and more his continued failing as a proper father and the sort of error and deception to which fallible mortals were all too prone. Because if there was any truth to the charges, even if Tai Lung had only been unduly possessed and consumed by dark _chi_ and so had not truly been in control of his own actions…then Shifu feared, with growing despair, that this time, he would not be able to save his son.

 

Biting his lip at this apathetic thought, Shifu stepped forward at last until he stood just before the door to the cell, now well within view as the sunlight spilling down the hall fell across his form. As he did so, the pair of porcine soldiers on guard stiffened abruptly, one bowing deeply while the other prepared to unlock the door and grant him access to the room beyond—but he waved them aside, for the moment, pausing yet again to peer through the barred window in the wooden panel.

 

There, across the cold, straw-strewn stone floor, sat Tai Lung…in sharp contrast to how he had appeared in Chorh-Gom, and immediately after Po had defeated him, he appeared neither enraged nor hateful, mocking nor coldly vengeful. He merely had his legs crossed in the lotus position, paws clasped in his lap, his eyes closed in what seemed deep meditation…while heavy iron manacles on each wrist were in turn chained to the wall. This seemingly peaceful, calm demeanor was certainly a welcome improvement, suggesting the snow leopard had finally managed to achieve the peace and tranquility that had eluded him for so long, and he was only patiently waiting for someone to come and defend him, set him free.

 

 

But then again, it could only be the calm before the storm, a final desperate attempt to stave off despair and violent fury if he found he would not be saved after all. Or it could be a pose, a false front to mislead, if he truly had fallen into the darkness again. Only time would tell which it was.

 

Yet for those few moments, as he regarded Tai Lung, the red panda felt his aching heart go out to him, a familiar pain throbbing in his chest. It was not fair, after how far he had come, for something like this to happen to the warrior feline who had struggled so hard to change. And where before, he had often wished futilely for some way to reach out to Tai Lung, to save him—now, perhaps, for the first time, he had the chance to truly do it.

 

Finally, before his nerve could desert him, Shifu nodded and waved a tiny hand at the nearest pig. The guard inserted the key in the lock, turning it with an audible _click_ , and then the door was swinging inward to allow him entrance into the lonely cell.

 

As soon as the door had slammed shut behind him, Tai Lung's eyes popped open and he looked up, skewering the panda with an intense, determined stare. Shifu was startled by what he saw in those golden orbs—anger and hatred, of course, but also uncertainty, worry, and even fear. That, he had not expected.

 

He had supposed that if his son were not on the verge of exploding in another unfathomable whirlwind of rage, he would be utterly stoic, keeping his emotions firmly in check and restraining everything behind a façade of calm and contemplation—either as a way to mislead his captors, or his last-ditch effort to keep from lapsing back into his old ways. This almost desperate terror he saw in Tai Lung's eyes…this, he could never have believed possible. Granted, matters did look rather dire, but…

 

He thought the snow leopard would leap to his feet at once and rush toward him, at least to the full extent the length of his chains would permit. But instead, the feline only sat up straight, leaned toward him, and then hissed, "It's about time you got me out of here, Shifu. Any longer in this place and I think I'll go mad again. You _are_ here to get me out…aren't you?" He didn't know which upset him more—the note of distrust and suspicion creeping into Tai Lung's voice, or the naked longing and aching hope in his gaze as he pleaded for this release.

 

Shifu did not want to confirm this belief, since he'd had so little luck convincing anyone that his son might be innocent, nor did he want to deny it since he'd be damned if he allowed Tai Lung to be summarily condemned without a fair shot at justice. So…he evaded the question. "Please do not take this the wrong way, son, but the question has to be asked: you didn't kill him…did you?"

 

The snow leopard glared witheringly at him, his ears flattening in a decidedly ugly fashion to the sides of his skull. "I'm not in the habit of murdering my friends—especially when I have precious few of those as it is. And what _possible_ reason would I have to kill Zhuang? He's a good man…better than I deserve on my side. He may very well have helped us defeat Vachir and free Monkey without even knowing it. He _saved the life_ of the woman I love. And he stood by me when no one else but Po and Viper would. What do _you_ think?"

 

Blinking slowly and somewhat owlishly, Shifu only looked silently at the snow leopard, who finally hung his head and dropped his voice to a resigned murmur. "No. No, I didn't kill him, Master. But…thank you for asking, and not just assuming."

 

The red panda closed his eyes briefly, nodding and letting his shoulders slump as he let out a tiny sigh of vindication. He knew Tai Lung, he had raised him practically from birth, and he was quite familiar with how the snow leopard sounded and acted when he was lying—he'd heard it often enough whenever something got broken around the Jade Palace, an unexplained practical joke befell Zeng or one of the temple guards, or time in the training hall came under dispute.

 

(Amusingly, when he was younger these lies usually concealed unscheduled visits he'd made down to the village so as to sneak in some secret playtime; more disturbingly, when he grew older it had actually been the opposite, claiming he was meditating or studying the scrolls when he'd really been in the kwoon pushing himself ever farther beyond the limits of stamina and endurance—and the shattered remnants of the training devices had been there to prove it, no less.)

 

The point was, Shifu could tell that this time, the snow leopard was telling the truth. He hadn't killed Zhuang.

 

Or at least, he didn't remember doing it. More than a few deaths and despicable acts had slipped his mind during the reddened haze which had overtaken him during his rampage. And Heian Chao was quite adept and skillful at this sort of thing…

 

Opening his eyes again, Shifu tucked his hands inside his sleeves and moved several paces closer—both to make raised voices unnecessary and thus their conversation less audible to the guards…and to show he trusted his son by coming within reach. "You're welcome, Tai Lung. After all that has happened…all you have done, all you've shown me, it's the least I could do." He frowned. "But that begs another question: why, then, does everyone—especially Mrs. Shen—believe that you did?"

 

"Because they're all bloody mad?" Tai Lung drawled, both sarcastic and extremely dry, as if the answer should be obvious. When Shifu simply matched his raised eyebrow, the snow leopard sighed and moved his paws to rest upon his knees, as if he needed something solid to hold onto. The rattling of his chains was startling, even cutting through the sounds of the laboring villagers in the square outside.

 

"I truly don't know, Master. I wasn't even anywhere near Zhuang or his house last night—you know why I was here. And after I…got what I came for, I was on my way back to the palace when the body was…discovered." The sudden mournfulness in his eyes was swiftly replaced by uneasiness, and again that strange sense of fear, as he leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper.

 

"I was coming back to warn you…something wasn't right in the Valley. Still isn't, unless I miss my guess. The fog that rolled in…it felt _wrong_ , Shifu. And far too familiar. If that wasn't Heian Chao, trying to bedevil us with his dark _chi_ , then I'm a matchmaker."

 

It was a testament to the gravity of the situation that the rather hilarious image this called up didn't cause even a twitch of a smile to form behind Shifu's mustache. Instead, solemn and grim, he only said, "I know. Or rather, I suspected as much." And with those words, he too continued in a whisper as he related the disturbing vision he'd received by the Moon Pool the night before.

 

By the time he had finished, Tai Lung looked if anything even more worried and afraid. But after swallowing hard, he finally ventured to say, "I…don't like the sound of that, Master."

 

"I wasn't particularly pleased with it myself," Shifu deadpanned. "The more important thing is, do you have _any_ idea what this could mean?"

 

"Me?" The snow leopard did a double-take, staring at him incredulously. "Don't you think you've got the wrong kung fu warrior here? I'm about as mystical as a half-full bowl of rice." He forced a mirthless laugh. "Shouldn't you be communing with Oogway about now, if it's answers you're seeking? Or you want to read the future?"

 

The red panda frowned, not half because he realized he should have thought of that sooner, and done so before coming down to the village, but it was rather too late now. "You have a point. But I'm no better at these things than you are, Tai Lung. And I had thought, since you have, er, experience with darkness…and apparently Chao has been with you, influencing you, for some time…well, you might have seen or felt something like this before."

 

Now that he'd spoken it aloud, he realized how lame and insulting it sounded. But to his credit, Tai Lung only looked at him soberly before slowly shaking his head. "You're forgetting, Master…when I wasn't just plain out of my mind, I was so focused on revenge and gaining what I thought was mine, I couldn't have told you about anything going on during those twenty years." A bleak, shadowed look passed over his face. "That's what comes from being a right selfish bastard for most of your life."

 

Looking away, he seemed uncertain whether to confide in anyone, and so Shifu tried to look as encouraging as possible until the feline spoke again. "I don't know anything, Master. And it infuriates the hell out of me that I don't. What you saw…I actually do have a few ideas what it could mean, none of them good. But I can't be sure of anything anymore. I know Chao is behind this…but I can't prove it."

 

"Indeed." The panda intertwined his fingers and tried not to wring his hands helplessly. "Even if I weren't equally certain our wizard enemy was to blame, and extending his hand over the Valley, I doubt anyone would believe my tale. Spiritual sendings, mysterious portents, premonitions…it is one thing to light incense candles over ancestor tablets, or to pray to the gods. Most in the village have never had any sort of supernatural encounter whatsoever, it will all seem too unreal to them. Perhaps if Master Oogway were here to authenticate it…" He sighed. "Without him, and with Chao's influence on the rise again…"

 

Quickly noticing the look of despair on his son's face, and how his whole proud, muscular form seemed to sag heavily, Shifu rushed on. "But surely you must have some idea who _did_ kill poor Zhuang!"

 

Tai Lung snorted. "Of course I do. It was the Wu Sisters, it's _always_ the Wu Sisters! But I can't prove that either." When the panda looked at him in disbelief, he growled and balled his fists, shaking his chains vigorously. "They took me to the crime scene—to incriminate myself, I realize now, but at the time I just thought they wanted someone to analyze the spot, figure out what had happened. Zhuang…they gutted him, Master, clawed his stomach right open to hide how they'd killed him. And make it look like a wild beast had done it."

 

The open sorrow on his countenance turned to sardonic bitterness. "In other words, yours truly. And there was fur all around him, snow leopard fur. Could've been from anyone—for all I know, it came from Xiu herself. But as soon as the watch captain grabbed a hank of it, and saw how well it matched my pelt…his men swarmed all over me, and that was that."

 

Stiffening, Shifu rose to his full height, the first bit of hope dawning inside him. "Wait a minute…you say there was fur there…fur they claimed was yours. Then we _can_ prove it was not you!" Whirling about, he smacked the butt of Oogway's staff into the stone floor with a hard rap and began pacing the cell fervently.

 

"Master…?"

 

"Don't you see?" He twisted back and peered up at the snow leopard eagerly. "Mei Ling! Remember how she proved your innocence in Yunxian? She knows her sisters, knows their scent. She identified it once, she can do so again. _That_ is something even that old fool Fu can't turn up his nose at! Not our word against Xiulan's, not a sign from the next life, but real, concrete evidence…"

 

Yes. He could see it all now, laid out before him like the beautiful perfection of a karst painting. This would be the key, the way to break through the cloud of lies and the fog of fear, hatred, and hard-hearted stubbornness…

 

Somehow, however, Tai Lung still looked dubious. "Are you sure, Father? They…they don't seem exactly…open-minded at the moment. D'you really think they're going to listen…?"

 

"I'll _make_ them listen!" He swung about with the staff, and might have accidentally struck the snow leopard in the head if he hadn't ducked automatically. "I'll just go and fetch Mei Ling, and she can…"

 

He was almost to the door, and just about to bang on it to be let out by the jailers, when he heard the scraping of the chains again, followed by a long, low growl—and he immediately froze in place.

 

A very long, oppressive silence settled over the cell, and then as he peered back over his shoulder, he saw Tai Lung getting to his feet, towering over him like a massive tree, ominous and quite still. When he spoke his voice was all the more chilling because of its softness. "Where d'you think you're going? Didn't you forget something?"

 

Shifu didn't know what had set the snow leopard off, but regardless, this interference which could possibly prevent him from saving his son had him nettled, to say the least. "What are you talking about, Tai Lung? I said, I need to go and find Mei Ling, so she can—"

 

"So you're going to leave me here. Just like that." The tone was flat, harsh, unforgiving.

 

He tried not to openly groan. "Look…I know it must be upsetting for you, being held here…"

 

Tai Lung snarled, and he distinctly heard his knuckles crack. "Do you? Do you _really_? Well bully for you, Shifu."

 

Shifu didn't know which hurt him more—the scathing contempt in his voice, or the equally audible distress at having to face confinement again. Recalling what his son had suffered at Chorh-Gom, he cursed inwardly. "Tai Lung, please, _listen_! The sooner I find Mei Ling, the sooner we can get your defense prepared, and the sooner you'll be free of this place."

 

"Why not now?" the snow leopard demanded. Somehow, even as his shoulders swelled and hulked beneath his shirt, he also became all the more desperate. "You're the master of the Jade Palace! You have the real power here in the Valley, not that idiot! Or is that all just a masquerade you put on to give yourself airs? _Make_ them let me go!"

 

The fact Tai Lung expected him to do such a thing angered him almost as much as the fact that he couldn't, no matter how much he longed to. "I'm afraid I can't," he said stiffly. "You know very well Fu Xiao won't allow it. If word gets out, Mrs. Shen will throw an even greater fit. Only by playing by their rules, following all the proper procedures, can we beat them at their own game. We do everything right, stay inside the boundaries of the law, and they won't have a thing to say against us. It is reason and truth that will win this, not smashing about wildly and impulsively." He paused, then regarded his son darkly. "I would think that by now you'd have learned the folly of that."

 

He expected Tai Lung to either demonstrate how well he had learned his lessons by forcing himself to calm down and accept the inevitable (albeit with ill grace), or to revert to form and lash out in violent fury. What he didn't expect was for the snow leopard to stare at him hopelessly for several moments, then stumble forward, holding out both paws imploringly. "No…no, Father, please…you have to get me out of here, now!" His entire frame shuddered. "I've been going out of my mind all night…the _only_ thing that's been keeping me going is knowing you'd be here in the morning…that you'd come and let me out, once you'd heard the whole story."

 

Stark fear burned in those golden eyes, something he didn't think he'd see again after Chorh-Gom—as well as an open pleading. For a few moments, it was as if Tai Lung were a cub again, begging him to make the terror of a nightmare vanish or the pain of a terrible injury…except now, Shifu couldn't make it go away, it was all too real and would haunt them both until Chao was slain, or had won. Seeing this made the panda's heart sink somewhere down into his feet, unmanning him completely—how could he help his son, how could he protect him?

 

Nothing could guarantee they would convince the villagers…and nothing could ever undo the horrors the snow leopard had experienced. His agonies and night terrors, the memories seared in and branded deep upon his psyche, the phantoms that haunted him…they would never be forgotten or banished, not in their entirety.

 

"I'm…I'm sorry, son. There's nothing I can do. But please believe me, I'll be doing all I can from the outside…I will bring Mei Ling, and when they try you, I will be right there with you, all the time, defending you with every ounce of will left in me if it's the last thing I do." He shook as he said this with the vehemence of his oath. _Never again. I've failed you too many times, Tai Lung. Not anymore._

 

But the snow leopard seemed not to have heard him, or only the first few words. Shaking his head, slowly at first and then with more frantic denial, he put his paws to his head and moaned. "No… _no_ … ** _NO!_** " His voice broke, and he staggered forward, grasping futilely. "Not again…please…haven't I been a good son, didn't I do it right this time? I promise…I'll make it better, I won't disobey you again. Just please…don't leave me again… _don't leave me in the dark_ …please… _please_ … ** _PLEASE!_** "

 

With these last words, he had almost come within reach of Shifu again, and in spite of himself the panda couldn't help backing away from the leopard until he felt the wooden panel of the door pressing into his spine. What was going on here? This couldn't be Chao's doing, could it? Or…was Tai Lung more unstable than he realized, had not truly been cured of all of his insanity by the Wuxi Finger Hold? Had he underestimated what Vachir's torture had done to him? "No…no, son, it isn't like that. This isn't like before, I promise…just give me a little time…" Trying to be unobtrusive about it, he hurriedly rapped on the door with one fist.

 

Tai Lung knew exactly what he was doing, though, and hastened to intervene. " _No_! No, you _can't_ , I won't _let_ you…" Shifu couldn't tell if his voice was thick with hate or choked-back sobs, if his growls were ones of fury or desperation, but either way, it scared him. And what scared him even more was when the snow leopard lunged for him—only to be brought up short by the manacles on his wrists.

 

Snarling viciously, he didn't seem to let this deter him, however…stretching, straining at the ends of his chains, eyes blazing with a fiery yellow ferocity in the shadows of the cell, fangs gleaming as he bared them in a feral roar—he seemed to have lost, for the moment, the ability to speak, sounding only like a wild animal. One trapped, pinned, cornered, willing to do anything and everything…even chew its own limb off…to find freedom. It horrified him…and made his heart pound painfully.

 

"Guards! Guards!" He banged more frantically on the door.

 

Yet just as he saw the terrified eyes of one of the pigs peering in the barred window (from how they slowly peeped into view, all the roars and snarls must have kept the sentry away until his sense of duty overcame his fear), just as he heard the key turn in the lock and felt the door start to open, Shifu stiffened.

 

For with a crunch of stone being pulverized into dust, and the telltale sound of metal bending and snapping, one of the chains ripped right out of its seating…and as Tai Lung's heaving, sweat-soaked body staggered upright again, shoulder lowering from the socket-wrenching posture in which he'd torn the metal plate free of the wall, the snow leopard suddenly leaped at him again—and this time he snatched hold of his robes.

 

"I'm sorry, Master," he muttered through clenched teeth, "I have to do this." And then he wrapped his arm so tightly around the panda's body that it was all he could do to stay conscious with that bulging spotted forearm pressing with crushing force into his throat.

 

Even as Shifu struggled to break free, land a blow on the snow leopard's wrist or elbow, or just plain breathe, Tai Lung rose to his full height and glared balefully at the guard standing in the doorway. When he spoke, it was in a sinister hiss, utterly cold and vicious. "Let me loose now…and get out of my way…or he dies." And his chained arm crushed the panda even closer while his free paw brandished its claws against his throat.

 

Despite these horrible words, the master of the Jade Palace felt no fear, nor hatred…only a wave of sorrow as well as disappointment. Not because he believed his son lost again to madness and evil, that he would follow through on this threat and complete the act of filial impiety he'd begun twenty years ago and attempted again three months ago. But because he understood why Tai Lung was doing this…and it not only distressed him, it made him deeply angry and ashamed—with his son for making this choice, and himself for letting it come to this.

 

For he could feel, even as the snow leopard spoke, how the bone-cracking hold keeping him pinned to his son's chest was imperceptibly loosening. The claws which were a hair's-breadth from kissing his jugular were trembling—so minutely no one looking could even notice it, and they shook not from anticipation, excitement, hate, or adrenaline rush…but from uncertainty and reluctance, he was positive. And behind him, he could both feel and hear Tai Lung's mighty heart pounding a mile a minute, thudding so hard against his ribcage it seemed ready to burst out.

 

That, and the breath rasping in his throat, clinched it. The feline hadn't given in to psychotic rage and his old murderous impulses, he wasn't tremulous with an eager desire to slaughter barely held in check…it was with pure, unmitigated fear. He did not mean what he said, or what he had done; Tai Lung would not truly kill him. It was only an empty (albeit highly convincing) act to compel obedience from the sentries—to obtain the escape he craved more than anything.

 

"You don't want to do this, Tai Lung," Shifu said, so softly no one else could hear him. "I know you don't. You won't. You can't. And you shouldn't—this is not the way. It's not honorable, and you know it."

 

Breath hissed between clenched teeth, billowed over the tufts of hair upon his perked ears. "Don't I, Shifu? There's no other way out of here…and you can play that card all you like, you still know I can't face this. Please—don't make me stay here. If you do…" He swallowed hard. "I can't promise what you'll find when you come back. I…I don't know how much longer I can hold on…"

 

Something in those words chilled him more than anything Tai Lung had said to him. Had Chao…was he in danger of…? Hanging loose and limp within the cat's grip, he fixed his rather bulging eyes on the pig, who still stood frozen in the doorway, a crossbow held at the ready but starting to go slack. "I think," he said slowly, "you should do what he says, friend."

 

One look at the snow leopard's face, the fearsome snarl constantly hovering there, and the very real instability in those golden eyes, seemed enough to convince the fellow. With a slight quiver in his steps, the porcine guard approached as close as he dared, metal clinking and rattling as the hand holding the key ring shook wildly.

 

Shifu could smell his fear in the air, which meant Tai Lung certainly could too—but he didn't move, only poised on the balls of his feet, surely ready to bolt as soon as the last manacle fell away. In the hallway, the other guard watched too, alternately looking with disgust and contempt at both the prisoner and his fellow jailer.

 

At last the pig stood only a few inches away from the ex-convict…cowering instinctively, peering up at the massive spotted form looming above him, looking quite in danger of soiling himself. The tableau held a few moments more, with Shifu's eyes silently pleading for aid, Tai Lung's chin lifted imperiously, dismissively, and the guard shivering so violently he almost dropped the ring.

 

Finally he managed to make his limb move forward jerkily—only to repeatedly miss the lock each time he tried to insert the key. By the fourth or fifth pass, the snow leopard's temper had grown shorter, and he let out a peremptory, venomous, almost subsonic growl. With a shrieking yelp, the pig thrust blindly forward and managed to shove it into the mechanism, turning it with a loud _snap_.

 

The manacle sprang open…the solid iron slipped off Tai Lung's wrist and clattered to the floor with an even louder echo…and whether thanks to an instinctive move toward freedom or the sheer sense of relief it must have engendered, the snow leopard's arm shifted—and slipped. Suddenly Shifu was dangling loosely in his embrace, quite clearly no longer in danger, easily able to drop free should he wish it.

 

Someone inhaled sharply, and then it all seemed to happen at once. With one small wriggle, the panda pulled away and fell, landing and rolling in the same motion to spring up again several feet away, both paws raised to ward away an attack. The pig leaped to intercept Tai Lung—but the snow leopard was even faster, bringing up the arm that still had a manacle attached, swinging the chain with its heavy plate at the end in a wide, violent arc…and it caught the guard in the shoulder, hurling him into the wall with a very audible crunch of bone.

 

And then, even as Tai Lung was rushing onward in the same movement, leaping for the open door of his cell, there came a sudden whizzing in the air—and abruptly, a crossbow bolt protruded from the snow leopard's side, the metal flanges at its base quivering and gleaming in the faint streamers of sunlight.

 

For what felt an eternity, Shifu stood frozen beside the second guard who had fired the bolt, staring helplessly at his son, while the feline in turn stared right back at him—open betrayal in his eyes. Then a strange tremor passed over Tai Lung's face, his eyes became unfocused and slightly glazed, and as if a wave of lassitude had just washed over him, he collapsed like a felled tree until he was on his knees, leaning weakly against the wall while his paws jerked spasmodically.

 

"That oughta keep him down for a while," the pig said into the stunned silence, a note of cocky satisfaction in his voice. When Shifu looked at him in puzzlement, he patted the butt of his crossbow in a comradely sort of way and grinned. "Had my arrow dipped in opium. Don't know if it's enough to knock him out, especially with that damn constitution of his, but he won't be able to muster up much energy, anyway. And he'll sure be seein' funny…he'll be nice and docile now 'til the trial."

 

Unsurprisingly, the guard's self-congratulation faded when Shifu stalked over, glared up at him, and even brandished Oogway's staff for good measure. "You fool! You _idiot_! Do you have _any_ idea what you might have done?"

 

The pig's beady eyes blinked rapidly. "I _think_ I just saved your life, Master Shifu! No wonder the magistrate doesn't like you…no sense of gratitude at all…" He bent down and grabbed hold of his fellow guard's unconscious body, grunting as he dragged him out into the safety of the hallway, and only after he'd slammed the door and securely locked it again did he look up with disbelief. "I can't believe it…that's the third time now that monster's almost killed you, and you're _still_ defending him? What'll it take before you realize he's a menace that won't quit 'til we put an end to him, once and for all?"

 

He shook his head as he turned to hurry down the hall, presumably to fetch medical attention for his comrade, though he couldn't seem to hold back one last sally as he departed. "Well don't you worry…Master Fu'll have this all sorted out before you know it. You won't have to bother yourself about him anymore…this'll all be out of your hands, and he won't trouble the Valley again…"

 

As the soldier vanished from sight, it took all Shifu's presence of mind, and the knowledge that time was of the essence and he had somewhere else to be immediately, to keep from chasing after the pig and beating him within an inch of his life. Or at least treating him to the sharp edge of his tongue. It wasn't just the cavalier attitude toward his son, the injury that had been dealt him and now left untreated, or the presumption that he would be found guilty and executed.

 

It was the drug they'd used to sedate him…if Tai Lung had not been susceptible to Heian Chao before, teetering as he was on the edge of sanity thanks to being confined once again, then he certainly was now. With his willpower sapped by the opium, his mind naturally fogged and his whole consciousness sinking into the darkness, he'd be easy pickings…he wouldn't be able to put up more than a token resistance.

 

The panda glanced back into the cell one last time—and saw the snow leopard now hunched on the floor, slumped groggily against the wall, while his face was buried in his paws and his shoulders shook with silent sobs. Even though he longed to offer solace, Shifu knew there was none, that the only way to soothe his son now was to prove his innocence and get him out of there…the sooner, the better.

 

Because as he turned and fled the jail to find Mei Ling, he knew that if he didn't act soon enough, everything he'd worked so hard for could be lost. He would lose Tai Lung forever…and the guard's words might very well come true. This _would_ all be taken out of his hands—but the trouble for the Valley would only be beginning, trouble that might well cost every one of them their lives.

 

And worst of all…after what he had witnessed, what Tai Lung had come close to doing, even if it had all been in a vain bid for freedom…he wasn't altogether sure Fu, the villagers, or that guard were wrong. Because even if the snow leopard hadn't killed Zhuang…he could still become a terrible danger to them all. Shifu only hoped that when he returned, it would not be too late.

                                                                      

* * *

 

Tai Lung didn't know how long he stayed like that, trembling shamefully like a cub with his paws over his face to block out any of his captors' smug smirks…as well as the sight of his cell, its walls gradually closing in around him with each descending layer of shadow. But he did know that even after the sound of the pig's footfalls, and Shifu's, had faded so that he was left utterly alone once again, it didn't improve matters. In fact it made things even worse.

_Pull yourself together, man!_

****

**_But I'm trapped._ **

_Not for long. Shifu's going to get you out of here, he said it himself!_

****

**_And you believe him_ ** _._

_Of course I do!_

 

A ragged sob escaped his throat.

****

**_He must hate me now. Damn it, I've ruined everything. He must think I'm still just a vicious, heartless killer_ ** _._

_No, no he knows what you were doing. He knows what this has done to you and why. You told him, you saw it in his eyes, remember?_

****

**_You went too far. It doesn't matter how terrified you are at being locked away again_** — ** _you've proven to him you're still unstable. He'll never trust you again._**

 

Slowly he began to rock back and forth, biting his lip to hold back his tears as the room wavered and shimmered in and out of his vision—thanks to the drug they'd shot him with, not the watery film in his eyes. Everything seemed to press closer still…oppressive and dark, crushing down upon him, forcing him into an ever tinier, tightly wrapped ball.

_Oh gods oh gods oh gods. I'm not going to make it. I won't ever get out of here. So what if I can move this time? I'm still a prisoner. They're never going to let me go._

****

**_Not till they kill you, at least._ **

_This isn't right, I have to be stronger than this. What am I, a man or a kitten?_

****

**_D'you really have to answer that one?_ **

 

Of their own accord, both his paws clenched powerfully, sending ripples throughout his muscled arms. Forcing himself to look up, to open his eyes, he glared balefully out into the cell…unable to hold back the ugly snarl beginning deep in the back of his throat.

_How could I have been such a fool, letting them trick me like that?_

****

**_Because you let all that peace-loving, pathetic, simpering talk from the 'Dragon Warrior' and Viper turn you into a trusting coward. Because you started believing all their tripe about goodwill, honesty, hospitality…instead of what you used to believe in, what you know to be true. That the only one you can trust is yourself. That you don't owe anyone anything except contempt and disdain. You're the greatest kung fu warrior in the history of China. You should have had the scroll. You don't need them. And the only things they are to you are obstacles to be stepped around or crushed beneath your feet._ **

 

A violent spasm ran through his entire body, and as sweat sprang out all over him, he whispered hoarsely into the quiet of his cell. "No. No, that's wrong. Quit feeling sorry for yourself. None of that's true and you know it. You didn't deserve that scroll because you weren't a real hero, you never were. The only way you're going to be one is through service, protection, defense…not running roughshod over everyone." His voice caught in his throat. "It doesn't…doesn't matter how badly they've acted toward you. You've…got to be the bigger man here. Ignore them. Do the right thing, for its own sake. Oogway was right all along."

 

Yet in spite of himself, he couldn't stop replaying again and again the events of how he'd been caught and arrested…how he'd been racing through the village streets, had almost reached the moon bridge and the steps to the palace when he'd heard the scream echo through the village. A woman's scream. Xiulan's. Of course, the instant he'd recognized her, he'd guessed something terrible must have happened—to her or to Zhuang.

 

And so he'd immediately turned back, tracing the cry to its source, to see what he could do to help. He'd been so close to the safety of the Jade Mountain…and like an idiot, _he had turned back_.

 

When he'd found the cow woman, he'd hardly expected to be greeted as a rescuing savior, but even he had been stunned and infuriated to be literally attacked by the seamstress. Naturally, she hadn't been able to do much damage to him—even before he'd caught her wrists to put a stop to her ceaseless pounding on his chest, she'd barely bruised him, and his greater strength had made it easy to overpower her.

 

But just as naturally, when he'd grasped her at arm's length, desperately demanded to know what was wrong, and had even shaken her a little to try and snap her out of her hysteria, the city watch had chosen that exact moment to show up…to catch him in the worst possible position.

 

He should have taken that as the ill omen it truly was. He should have known what was coming, and beaten a hasty retreat before it was too late. But when he'd hurriedly explained what was actually going on, the guards had acted so understanding, so calm and professional, he'd been lulled into a false sense of security. When Xiulan had babbled, through hiccups and violent weeping, that Zhuang was dead, the cold shock of this—like an icy mountain waterfall bursting out of a hidden gap to douse him head to foot—had nearly staggered him, and washed away all other concerns from his mind.

 

It couldn't be, the bull had seemed so young and strong, so full of vitality and life. He couldn't be dead, not with so much still to live for. Tai Lung had had to see this for himself…as well as learn all he could about who had slain his friend, so he could mete out suitable punishment. Not to mention what this could mean for Po's safety as well...

 

So he'd accompanied the watch to where Xiulan indicated was the scene of the crime—of all places, Ping's noodle shop, though where else would the panda have taken them for dinner? No one had been there, despite the fire still burning on the hearth; that in itself would have been suspicious, but the stew turning into a scorched, congealing mass on the stove, the pot blackening and melting through as the water within it boiled away, would have clinched it regardless. There was no way the goose would ever let his kitchen end up in such a condition, or abandon a meal he was preparing.

 

Yet even that startling discovery, and its worrisome implications for the Dragon Warrior and his father, had been swept away when the snow leopard had seen Zhuang crumpled on the floor…his shirt torn open and ripped to shreds just like his stomach, a pool of blood beneath him growing steadily larger and thicker as it leaked from his terrible wounds. Grief had surged through him, echoed appropriately enough by a renewed wailing from Xiulan as she took in her husband's body anew, and it had taken all his willpower to keep his paw steady as he closed the builder's sightless, sticky eyes and whispered a fervent prayer for his soul.

 

But before he could wipe away his tears and give more than a cursory glance to the surroundings, one of the guards had swooped down to snatch up the bits of silvery-gray fur strewn around Zhuang which Tai Lung hadn't even noticed. There had passed a brief, breathless moment as the rabbit had held the fur up for comparison and saw its hue was almost an exact match—close enough, anyway, as to make no difference. Then Xiulan had suddenly (and rather melodramatically, he'd thought), stabbed a finger as she accused him of being the one to murder Zhuang, right before her eyes.

 

The fact he'd been coming from a completely different direction when he'd encountered her in the streets, and that there was no blood to speak of in his pelt or on his claws, didn't seem to matter. For in seconds, the guards had encircled and pounced upon him, and before he knew it, he was their prisoner. They had outnumbered him, and though he could easily have overpowered, even killed, every single one of them, he had rather thought that counterproductive at the time—not to mention practically a confession of his guilt. Killing them would have just added more to the list of charges against him, anyway.

 

And that damned conscience which Po and Tigress had awoken in him was a harsh taskmaster, insisting he do this the right way, that justice would out in the end. It told him that making a break for it, and harming innocent guardsmen in the process, would not only guarantee his conviction, it was wrong…and it would disappoint the panda, enrage his beloved and possibly make her turn on him as she saw him revert to his old self, prove her right about him after all. He could not risk that—so he had relented, gone along quietly, allowed them to roughly escort him to the jailhouse, determined to believe that eventually everyone would see how impossible, even ludicrous, it was for him to have committed this crime.

 

He had not fought them off to show he had changed, was no longer the untamed beast they believed him to be…and because he clung to the hope that a proper, thorough investigation would clear his name, prove the Wu Sisters—for who else could it have been? He recalled now how Chun had torn a hank of his fur free when she'd fought him—were the guilty ones, not him. It was all a plot against him, surely they would see that, surely Shifu and the others would understand, prove it to be another framing!

****

**_You are so bloody naïve! You know better than this. How could you ever think you would be trusted, accepted, given the benefit of the doubt? Chao and the Sisters set you up, and you walked right into their clutches because you were too damned determined to be noble. It doesn't matter how insane it looks for you to have killed one of your most vocal supporters_** — ** _because they think you ARE off your rocker! Now they have you right where they want you…you're never getting free, not while you're alive…_**

 

Growling furiously, Tai Lung forced his thoughts away from their well-worn course and instead focused on his injured side. It was not that it hurt very much—in fact thanks to the opium, it hardly hurt at all, merely a dull, distant ache. It was the fairly significant amount of blood oozing and running from the hole, just below his last rib, where the bolt had pierced him. He could it feel it soaking and staining his already dirty and ragged shirt, and with each vigorous beat of his heart, he felt a little more faint and woozy.

 

Studiously avoiding enumerating just how many times he'd been wounded in recent memory—he really had the worst luck lately—the snow leopard took a deep, shuddering breath…reached down to finger the metal bolt near its point of entry…and then quite casually gripped the shaft and pulled it free with one clean jerk. He didn't even roar as it left his body, since opium was also a wonderful pain-killer. _Thank heavens for small favors._ He only grunted softly, then tossed the bolt aside dismissively with a clatter.

 

The next part of the proceedings was no more arduous, since contrary to popular belief he had been injured many times in his life, and he knew how to treat or at least deal with most kinds of wounds. In this case, he only had to tear his shirt into strips, stuff one as deeply as he could stomach into the wound ( _that_ did prompt a cry of agony, quickly silenced behind gritted teeth), and then wrap the rest tightly around his midsection in a makeshift bandage.

 

By the time he had tied it off and leaned gingerly back against the wall again, Tai Lung's head felt even more filled with cotton, and the increased shadows as the sun rose toward noon and cut off its slanting light into the cell made him cringe back all the more. The darkness only made the walls seem closer still, until he was certain they were about to crush him, the ceiling on the verge of caving in atop him…

_Have to get out of here. Can't stay here any more. Too many memories…what if they start…? So alone, nobody cares about me, Vachir was right…_

****

**_Yes. Now you're finally starting to get it. Took you long enough, didn't it…but then you never were the brightest student, were you? You are alone…no one loves you, not anymore. And what do you need love for anyway? It just makes you beholden to someone else, it makes you weak. You do everything for them, and how do they repay you?_ **

****

**_The minute you make one little mistake, it's as if they don't even know who you are, let alone give a damn about you. You're better off by yourself. You're going to be anyway…might as well make the most of it, and get what you want on your own. They aren't going to forgive you, you're not going to get the power you crave. You have to take it for yourself._ **

_No! No, they do care, I AM loved! Po_ —

****

**_Oh for the love of_** — ** _d'you really expect that moronic buffoon to be your savior? He's the one who trounced you, utterly humiliated you, took away your lifelong dream. Or did you forget that? All he is, is a wannabe hero. The only thing he cares about is your 'awesome' kung fu legends, which he wants to imitate…and surpass. He doesn't care about you at all._**

_That's not true! And anyway, Shifu does love me, he really does, he forgave me for what I did, he_ —

****

**_Don't make me laugh. It's HIS fault you're in this situation to start with! He's the one who denied you what was your gods-given right, he made you think you were entitled to it…and he left you to rot in Chorh-Gom. Don't ever forget that. That's not the mark of someone who loves you. Or if that is love, you're better off without it for certain._ **

_But…but Tigress, she_ —

****

**_She only wants you for the sex. Granted, you are pretty impressive in the bedroom, but that's all it is. Remember how long it took her to 'warm up' to you. Remember how long she hated and despised you. That can't go away in such a short time. She said you couldn't love her so soon_** — ** _well, the same goes for her. And as soon as she finds out what you 'did' last night, she'll turn on you again. Plain and simple._**

****

**_You're all alone, and the sooner you accept it, the stronger you'll be. Toss off these foolish shackles, just like the ones you smashed apart, and only then will you come into your true, glorious power…_ **

_No! No, they'd never_ — _Tigress would never…_

 

Something was wrong. He could feel it. Not the increasingly dark, hateful, arrogant turn of his own thoughts, though that was bad enough. Something seemed off about the thoughts themselves. Where once they had been part and parcel with his typical perfectionist thinking, that constant internal monologue that berated him endlessly for his own perceived faults even as it ultimately held him back, lashing at him harder than Vachir's whip ever had until he was utterly convinced he would never measure up to his own impossible ideals…now, these thoughts didn't quite mesh anymore.

 

Where only a few minutes ago, he'd been convinced he'd simply been arguing with himself, clinging to his conscience and the lessons he'd learned to stave off the inevitable descent into madness, now he was not so sure. The turns of phrase, the judgments being made, the fact it had seemed less like trying to persuade himself and more like someone _else_ was urging him, even desperate for him to obey these increasingly wicked impulses…

 

Well, it was as if he weren't arguing with himself at all, but another presence intruding on his thoughts, even as it cloaked itself in the guise of his own beliefs and choices. Something dark…diabolical…

_All right, what's going on here?_ he demanded in the vaults of his mind. _I know you're there, you gave yourself away. Who are you really?_ He caught himself as it all fell into place…it had to be. The enemy had overplayed his hand, gone too far and revealed himself.

 

Aloud, Tai Lung whispered harshly into the silence, a tinge of smugness entering his otherwise subdued, solemn voice. "Heian Chao, I presume. We meet at last."

 

There was a very long pause—one veiled with menace, filled with a sense of growing fury, but also oddly amused…even admiring. Then the voice came to him again, resonating in his thoughts in an entirely different pitch from his own—still quite deep, rich, and incredibly masculine, but with a hollowness underlying it that chilled him to the bone. Without exaggeration, it sounded as he imagined it would to hear someone speaking to him from the next world…or out of an open grave.

 

" ** _Very clever, Tai Lung. I must commend you for your insight. Perhaps I was a little too hasty in my…insertion, but time is of the essence and I could not afford to take more care and thus lose this narrow window. Soon your life will hang in the balance, suspended from the thinnest of threads, and your moment will finally have come. The moment to choose."_**

 

Even though he'd been nearly one hundred percent certain he was not alone, that some other being were in his cell with him, even buried within his own beleaguered mind, to actually hear the voice answer him back was so startling and downright terrifying that the snow leopard started violently, almost slamming his scalp into the wall. As it was, he did let out a rancid oath and instinctively took up a kung fu stance—or rather, he tried to, as he was still partway seated and all of his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated thanks to the drug.

 

At least he managed to raise both paws into a guarded defense, claws unsheathed as he flicked his eyes from one corner of the cell to the next. Of course he saw nothing but the shadows…was he imagining this too? Had he cracked completely, gone off the deep end permanently? Was he only hearing a voice his own subconscious had conjured up to taunt and torment him? If his jailers were still here, would they only see and hear him talking to himself, and himself alone? Could his enemy actually be made of shadows, the way Vachir had been, the way Monkey had described? Or was he only inside his head, however real he otherwise remained?

 

Finally finding his voice again, Tai Lung tried to still and calm the racing of his heart. "What d'you mean? What d'you want?" He snorted derisively. "Besides me, that is."

 

A faint _tsk_ ing sound filled his ears, coming from both within and without. **_"Someone's been carrying tales, I see. Of course I want you, Tai Lung. I have wanted you for forty years, the last twenty even more than most. I have been waiting for you, or one like you, to be born and come to me for centuries. I meant what I said_** — ** _you are indeed the greatest, most supernal fighter of your or any generation. If you had not been maddened into a frenzy the day you first tried to seize the scroll, you would even have given Oogway a run for his money."_**

 

Chao's voice turned suggestive, persuasive, his tone at once knowledgeable and confident. ** _"I know this because I know him, just as well as you know Shifu. I know he trained you as he has none since, and precious few before. I know he feared what you would become even as he envied and admired it. And I know that you have an incredible destiny…one you are poised on the cusp of claiming, if you but take those last, tiny steps across to achieve it."_**

 

On some level, of course, the feline couldn't help but feel impressed, even flattered, by such praise. But even if he weren't poised to distrust and hate Heian Chao on sight, the mage's words were a little too pat and fulsome, too perfect…he instantly doubted their ultimate veracity. And even if everything Chao said was true, there had to be more to it than that. Another reason why he had singled out Tai Lung—and more things he wanted from the leopard, specific requests, services…demands. He had to know what it was, to warn the others and so he could ward it away.

 

"What d'you want?" the snow leopard asked again, guarded and utterly flat.

 

For another long moment, the voice inside his head was silent, and somehow despite not having anything to point to as evidence, Tai Lung had the sensation that the _chi_ wizard was decidedly annoyed with him. And when he finally spoke again, he was certain of it, even though Heian Chao seemed to be forcing his tone into one of solicitation and generosity.

 

" ** _Only for you to reach your fullest potential, of course. There is so much still you can do, and be, if you only serve me, and allow me to teach you. Shifu has promised you a different lesson…but he has not the slightest inkling of the true power and greatness within you. There is much more to learn than what is kept in the thousand scrolls. There is even more than what the Dragon Scroll could have granted you."_**

 

Now his voice became bold, stirring, almost bombastic—a blatant testimonial as to his own prowess, a fervent declaration of his own greatness and superiority. ** _"Only through me can you possibly be trained in this, only if I teach you will you surpass all other kung fu warriors_** — ** _including Oogway. Think what a peerless fighter you will be then! Do you really think Shifu knows all the secrets of chi mastery? No! Only I possess such power…_**

 

" ** _But I will share it with you, instruct you so as to become my equal if you will only bow knee to me. Why do you think I made certain that messenger's feather landed where it did, so you could be freed from your living tomb?"_** The snow leopard couldn't stop himself from gasping in shock at this almost off-handed revelation, and he felt a definite sense of smug satisfaction radiating from that dark presence.

 

 ** _"Oh yes, it was by my hand you were released, Tai Lung. No need to thank me, although your gratitude would of course be most welcome if it accompanies your service. It was the least I could do for the one who will bring about my glorious empire...particularly one who had suffered the same fate as myself. Oogway certainly did enjoy sealing away that which displeased him, or simply disagreed with his way of viewing the world, did he not?"_** The bitterness in Chao's voice was as thick and cloying as the shadows, and for a brief moment Tai Lung knew exactly how he felt, felt a kinship with him for suffering shared, and it horrified him.

****

**_"You see? I understand you, Tai Lung. I know precisely how you feel, what has always escaped you, what you have longed for and needed in the depths of your heart, what you have railed against and why you raged. We are one. And so, I will give you everything you've ever wanted and more. You have seen what I can do…and that is but the smallest portion of my skill and ability. It can all be yours, it will guarantee your legend, if you say the word."_ **

 

Incredibly shaken, Tai Lung opened his mouth, yet couldn't stop himself from pausing in a freeze of indecision. The implications in the mage's words were insidious and deeply upsetting...that what he had believed to be his greatest moment of triumph had, like everything else in his life, only been another manipulation, another aspect of someone else's grand plan. That Chao had some intimate tie to Oogway himself, and was insinuating the same kind of resentful, suspicious thoughts about the turtle that the snow leopard had harbored for so many years.

 

He refused to believe such things now, he knew Oogway was not the dismissive and arrogant judge of character and motive that he was being implied to be, that locking the feline away had been as much about saving his life as punishing him...and that if he truly had done the same to Chao himself, it was surely for far more justified and deserving reasons. But the seed of doubt was there, and the notion the Grand Master could have any kind of secret connection to this shadowy enemy, let alone this one, was even more disturbing in what it suggested.

 

Yet even beyond all of this, he couldn't lie to himself—on some level, deep down where he didn't want to admit or see it, the scenario Chao was painting sounded very attractive indeed. Not the implied denial and abandonment of his father, the Jade Palace, everything he had learned from them and the noble virtues they'd instilled in him; nor the fact that in order to obtain what was being dangled before him, he'd have to sell his soul—quite literally—as well as his freedom to the wizard. Even if all else were equal, he could never truly surrender his will to anyone, let alone become their lackey, familiar, or worst of all a mere avatar.

 

No, what appealed to him was, of course, the notion of his embracing a power no other had, something not contained in any scroll, something not even Po could master. And then using said power to carve out a name for himself none would ever forget, to perform such feats of _chi_ manipulation and mystical might that, when coupled with his kung fu, it would surely render him the greatest hero in the empire. Then, finally, his lack of a family, his being a worthless orphan, would not matter anymore. At last, he would be accepted, honored, praised by all who met him…

 

He shook his head violently, snarling at his own obtuseness. _Idiot! If you let Chao corrupt you, you'll be notorious all right_ — _as an even worse monster and ravager of the empire than before! So what if he freed you? There's nothing he can offer you that you want…he can't give you peace of mind, honor, acceptance, or love. He can't give you your father back, or the best friend you could ever have wanted in Po, or the most amazing, intense, gorgeous woman in all of China in Tigress. What he offers is false…a promise that will only poison everything it touches. Don't listen to him. You don't need him._

_And remember: he hired the Sisters, through them he nearly killed Po and Tigress, and he did kill Zhuang. He 'encouraged' Vachir to torture you all those years, and made him slaughter all those innocent people. He might even have pushed you over the edge twenty years ago. He made your life a living hell to further his own selfish ends, and he certainly ruined the lives of almost everyone in the Valley. He is not your friend._

 

Still…even though the snow leopard had no intention of joining the creature that had brought about so much suffering and death—through his own paws, no less—Tai Lung knew there was still a piece missing to this puzzle. He had to know more, he had to play along.

 

"What d'you want?" he snapped for the third time, impatient and furious at being given the runaround. "You keep telling me what you're going to do for me—out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt. But what d'you get out of this? What's in it for you? And just for the sake of argument, if I decided to join you, what would you want me to do?"

 

Now he knew Chao was losing his temper, since his speech began to lose its florid, overwrought quality, becoming increasingly direct, vicious, and hateful. It didn't lose any of its depth and sinister quality, but it did seem to gain an underlying screech, oddly enough, as it grew rougher and fiercer.

 

" ** _I'd think it would be obvious, fool! With your chi to feed off of, I'll never age a day more, I'll finally have the immortality I've been chasing like a damned kite-tail for almost a thousand years. I'll have you as the best and strongest servant I could ever hope for, and I'll never die. I'll be powerful enough to conquer all of China, remake it in my own image! Once the empire is mine, I can make it what it should be, strong enough to rule the world and ruthless enough to let nothing stand in the way of its might._**

 

" ** _I'll extend my will to every household, in every soul and heart, all will live and die at my sufferance…but those who follow and obey will be granted the same privileges as you and I. They too will never have to suffer and die, lose those they love, be left alone and despairing in this cold, uncaring world. They will thank me. You all should!"_**

 

By the time this ranting speech had been delivered, Tai Lung rather wished he could back slowly away from his enemy and press himself deep into the warmest, most sun-baked portion of the cell wall. He couldn't, of course, with the shadow mage inhabiting his very thoughts, but the sentiment was there all the same. Because, if he hadn't known it before, it was quite clear now: Heian Chao was insane. Utterly, completely mad.

 

Believing he could live forever, and actually seeking the means to do so? Plotting to take over the world, and thinking he could truly direct and manipulate the wills of the many thousands of people in it? Allowing everyone who lived to cheat death indefinitely, and thereby completely disrupt the cycle of rebirth and reincarnation? One who could do all of this, follow through on it, and mean it, had to be the most unstable, dangerous person in all of creation.

 

Words could not begin to describe the depth of wrongness and horror in what Chao wished to attempt…and if he succeeded, if everyone fell under his sway and simply became his mindless, corrupt puppets… Yet what disturbed him even more to contemplate was that he could not tell, even now, if everything Chao was saying was something he honestly believed, that people would prefer this world he was offering to the present one, or if he were merely feigning concern for the suffering and losses life brought in order to mislead and manipulate all into giving their wills and souls to him. And he wasn't altogether certain which would be worse, either...

 

Even as the snow leopard's mind was reeling back from these prospects, the mage was continuing in a more silken, genteel manner—albeit as sibilant and rumbling as ever. **_"As for what, precisely, I will ask of you once you are my champion…I should think that, too, would be easily discerned. I will have many tasks for you, all of which require you to sever all ties with the pathetic do-gooders at the palace who are merely holding you back from glory. But first and foremost among these: you will journey to the Imperial City…enlist among the royal bodyguards…and then, when you are trusted implicitly, kill Emperor Chen and his entire family._**

 

" ** _Only then will the way be free for me to sit upon the throne, and shape all aspects of life to reflect my vision. And do not tell me their deaths would be beyond you…all of them are strangers to you, pampered and arrogant and not worthy of respect. I was with you when you met Chen, of course. I know precisely how he rubbed you the wrong way."_**

 

Ice seemed to congeal in his veins at this confirmation that Heian Chao had indeed been haunting him for years, even when he was young. But he couldn't deny he had little care for nobles and any who dared to put on airs and claim authority over others…and he only needed to flash back to the expression on Tigress's face, when she saw the painting of the young tiger ruler in Oogway's chamber, to recall just why he'd disliked the emperor on first meeting him. Handsome, strong, brave, supremely skilled in kung fu, and a magnet for forbidden lust in many of his subjects.

 

In other words, everything Tai Lung had secretly wanted or believed himself to be, save the object of fantasies and romance…and a heroic ruler whom no one could possibly gainsay or fail to serve with grateful and unquestioning obedience. Chen was the most honored and revered emperor for four or five generations, and the loyalty to him among the people was nigh universal, bolstered by the fact the tiger had always displayed inordinate concern and genuine caring for their welfare.

 

No snooty elitist sealed away in his palace was he—aside from fighting in numerous bloody battles and acquitting himself with stunning talent, he had made many tours and journeys across China in his youth to visit with the common people, and from what Vachir had said, he'd done so even as recently as a year or two ago. How could the snow leopard possibly compete with that?

 

All of that jealousy notwithstanding, however, Tai Lung knew that while he resented Chen, and would always grumble vocally whenever Tigress seemed too enamored of her fellow striped feline, he could never in good conscience kill the emperor, let alone his innocent family. China had prospered under their dynasty…Chen had been Oogway's close friend…and it was simply wrong, morally reprehensible.

 

That Chao would order him to do this truly proved what a vile, immoral creature he was—but at the same time, the _chi_ wizard was right. He should have figured out Chao's scheme, anticipated what the next angle of attack would be…for in truth, it was woefully inept and predictable, hardly the brilliant plan he had come to expect. Granted, if the mage wished to extend his influence over all of China and then the rest of the world, a position of power such as the Emperor's throne would be useful, not to mention eliminate any possible interference from those in charge. _But still…whatever happened to a little imagination and creativity, eh?_

 

Scoffing openly, the snow leopard pushed his fear, disgust, and horror to the back of his mind, only allowing skepticism and disdain to bleed through. "Oh, is that all? Can't you do better than that, Chao? Damn…and here I thought you'd actually be challenging and unique. But you're just like everyone else. So limited, so petty and selfish and blind…believe me, it takes one to know one—I'm ashamed to know I was ever that stupid, but at least I can be satisfied knowing I was never that evil."

 

The building heat of the day, as the sun rose toward its apex, abruptly and instantly changed, plunging in seconds into a cold as bitter and frigid as what Tai Lung had felt within Chorh-Gom, and with it came a menace and hatred equally as chilling. He wanted to congratulate himself for scoring such a direct hit on Chao's ego and pride, particularly since he knew that until his true loyalties were decided, the wizard would not dare kill him. But there were things much worse than death, many ways in which he could be tormented that would make Vachir's punishments look like ones thought up to curtail cheating in cubhood games. And if he wasn't careful, if he pushed Chao too far, too soon…

 

" ** _Disparage me all you wish, Tai Lung,"_** the disembodied voice hissed reproachfully. ** _"All too soon you will understand that I am your only hope of greatness. It matters little whether my plans seem predictable to you—what matters is that they will work because they are effective. And killing Chen is, as I said, only the first step among many. You will see, as I ascend to supremacy, that there is much more to my intellect and power than this simple beginning. Much to admire and emulate…much to inspire your service."_**

 

Clenching his fists at his sides and gritting his teeth to hold back his most vitriolic words, the ex-convict made a prisoner once more rolled his eyes and growled. "You must be mad to think I'd _ever_ work for you, after everything you've done. _I'd_ have to be mad to even consider it, which I'm glad to say I'm not."

 

" ** _Not yet."_** The words were as threatening as they were ominous, and in spite of himself he shivered. **_"That can and will be arranged, if you do not see the error of your ways. One way or another, I will have you. You know this, and I know this. It's so much better if you don't fight. You would not be who you are if you didn't resist me, of course_** — ** _it is your will and obstinate independence I have such need of, after all, and I give you full credit for your tenacity. It will only make my victory all the sweeter when it comes."_**

 

There was indeed a note of reluctant admiration, of rueful irony, in his tone. **_"Just this once, however, you would do well to heed my advice and surrender…before it is too late, before you force my hand and I take from you what you deem so blessedly precious. Cut your losses now, and I promise the rewards will be greater than you can imagine. Cease prattling about morality and ethics, you and I both know those are simply words we use as masks, facades to present to the world to keep the weak and misguided from interfering while we do our work. Join me. You know the price if you refuse me."_**

 

So he did. The lives of Shifu, Po, and Tigress, of the rest of the Four, of everyone in the Valley of Peace. The existence of the entire empire itself, of its countless innocent citizens, its culture and way of life. And in the end, the snow leopard's own life…the ending of which, if he wasn't careful, would still let Chao win as his dying spirit furnished the madman with the _chi_ that would render him invincible.

 

But he also knew what hung in the balance, what lay on the line, if he were to agree. Even if Chao truly did spare those he loved and cared for—hardly a certain prospect—that wouldn't matter if, in the bargain, he sacrificed everything else worth fighting and living for, everything those loved ones held dear. And he rather suspected that if he agreed, he himself wouldn't even love them anymore anyway…he would not _be_ himself, but a sadistic, twisted caricature serving only as an extension of Chao's will, a receptacle for his spirit as Vachir and Monkey had been, and at the last, nothing more than a glorified meal for the _chi_ master to glut himself upon.

 

If that was his only other choice, Tai Lung would gladly choose death first. To die, but to do so as his own man, with his own free will.

 

"Well, how could I _ever_ say no to that?" he sneered sarcastically, archly. "Getting to dangle on your strings and be your personal banquet till the end of my days—why, that's _just_ what I've always wanted!"

 

" ** _I didn't mean that the way you seem to have interpreted it."_** Heian Chao was as urbane and sophisticated as ever, but Tai Lung could still hear the note of worry in his voice as he hastily tried to smooth over his earlier lapse. **_"Why would I consume you literally when you are of so much more use to me alive and under my tutelage? I merely meant your chi would strengthen me to immeasurable proportions, as mine would in turn do when I inhabit you. It will be an endless feast that leaves us both quite free to enjoy and reap the benefits. Do not fixate on one minor detail, and ignore the power I am offering you."_**

 

"No, you didn't misspeak, I understood you perfectly clearly," Tai Lung said, brittle and flatter than ever. "And it was probably more honest than anything else you've said to me. I'm just a patsy to you, someone to be used and then discarded. Or, I suppose, the 'greatest of your servants' once you've infused me with your power." He snorted again. "But always second to you, of course. Some greatness."

 

" ** _Then I take it you are rejecting my offer?"_** The wizard's voice was surprisingly calm and neutral, though frostily so.

 

Flexing his claws in and out of their sheaths, the spotted feline nodded, curt and dismissive. "Let me put it as simply as I can for you: Sod. _Off_."

 

Yet another very long silence followed this declaration, one which was at once furious and introspective, contemptuous and determined. During this time, the only sounds came from the laboring villagers out in the square, their every pound and saw of the wood and each cry of directions given seeming all the more surreal and horrifying because this everyday activity was now given a twisted meaning: they were building solely for the delightful purpose of killing him.

 

Then, at last, Heian Chao spoke again, and as he did there was a strange sense of distance, of receding, as if the mage were at last retreating from his mind. **_"I see. I suppose you believe that your final word on the matter."_**

 

"Damn straight."

 

" ** _We shall see. You will soon be singing a different tune, I think. For you have nowhere else to turn except to me. Once you realize how truly alone you are…that none of those in whom you have placed such vaunted hopes will avail you…then you will see the wisdom in my words. Sooner or later, you will join me. It is inevitable."_** The voice hardened, almost as if the very granite of the mountains ringing the Valley of Peace had gained the ability to speak. **_"But when I come to you again, next time I shall not be so generous. You have been warned."_**

 

And with that last parting shot, he felt Heian Chao's presence leave his mind, as if a breeze had billowed through to clear the lethargic, foggy haze from his thoughts, leaving him cleansed—and thankfully alone.

 

For several long minutes, Tai Lung simply breathed in and out, trying to clear his lungs of the festering wickedness that had accumulated there, his thoughts of the repugnant poison that seemed to have tainted them. Even after he believed his brief meditation had succeeded, he couldn't help letting out a shuddering, ragged breath, every inch of his body twitching and trembling at this visitation.

 

He should have been happy. He should have been proud he'd resisted the temptation, held true to his redemptive path, sent Heian Chao packing and even managed to belittle and mock him in the bargain. But completely aside from the lingering malaise in his heart and soul, there was something else that made him shiver and worry. Not only did he feel more alone than ever, so that his solitude was not a comfort…but the shadows in the cell had somehow increased dramatically, and with them, the walls and ceiling felt closer than ever. His feeling of being trapped, by his surroundings as well as circumstance, which had faded into the background while Chao made his offer, now returned full force. And it terrified and tore him apart inside in ways he couldn't even explain.

 

Perhaps it was because, though he had turned the mage down once, he didn't know if he could do so again. Especially with this unsettling, disturbing dread taking him over at every opportunity. He didn't know how much longer he could take it…how well he could hold on. With every minute that passed, he could feel his hold on his sanity and self-control slipping—as if he were hanging from the edge of a cliff above a raging sea, desperately clinging to a few tufts of grass and watching in horror as the blades tore free one by one, leaving him held aloft only by their roots.

 

He was holding on, for now, but only barely…what would happen if he lost his hold? What would keep Chao from possessing him utterly? And what would the wizard make him do then…what would he become?

 

Clutching his head and moaning softly, closing his eyes and trying to tune out the hammering outside and the encroaching, ever-smaller cell of shadows, Tai Lung prayed harder than he ever had before.

_Oh gods…Master Oogway, don't let me fall…Father, hurry…please, don't let it be too late… And Tigress…you love me and trust me, you'll never turn on me…will you…?_

                                                                       

* * *

 

Looking morosely and anxiously out the window of the small, cozy domicile where Zhuang and Xiulan had, until just the night before, lived a happy, ordinary life with their daughter, Crane watched the growing throng of people making its way through the village streets and let out a heavy sigh.

 

He knew where the villagers were all going, of course. Shifu had awoken the denizens of the Jade Palace at dawn in the bunkhouse as usual, only this time with the frantic news that Tai Lung had been imprisoned for the murder of the bull builder. Crane didn't know the exact thoughts of the others, but he at least had rather strongly felt he had never truly gotten out of bed—this must all be a dream, or more strictly speaking a nightmare.

 

How could Zhuang be dead, when they had just seen him alive and well yesterday, greeting them after their return from Chorh-Gom? And how could the snow leopard possibly have been the one to kill him? It wasn't right, it wasn't possible…it wasn't fair. Even though he had not liked her, his heart had gone out to Xiulan at once—and the tears had started as soon as he thought of Yi. That was why he was here now, not only babysitting for the seamstress while she attended the trial, but offering what comfort he could to the little girl.

 

What had made it all the more terrible, however, was after the truth and reality had sunk in, Crane had slowly begun to realize…and with an awful clarity born of hindsight…that this turn of events was indeed quite possible. And if Tai Lung were responsible, then it was his, Crane's, fault. He could not believe the snow leopard would kill his only real friend in the village—it made no sense, much as Vachir being the killer of all those people had seemed nonsensical. If this were still the rampaging beast who had fought them at the Thread of Hope, he would believe Tai Lung to be Zhuang's murderer in a heartbeat, but not the man he had become since Po defeated and befriended him.

 

But by the same token…the revelation which had explained the discrepancy between Vachir's honorable warrior past and his present actions could well be responsible for the snow leopard suddenly going off the deep end and becoming a killer again, too.

 

Heian Chao. He was behind everything, in the end, whether through his proxies the Wu Sisters or by influencing matters directly through his dark _chi_. And just as he had possessed the rhino, so too could he have inhabited Tai Lung, if the wizard had somehow found (or made) him vulnerable. If that horrific turn of events had occurred, then Zhuang would likely only be the first to die, in a new rampage to completely surpass that of twenty years ago. And if the snow leopard had once more been lost to the darkness, that was Crane's fault…because he was not watching the right person.

 

Ducking his head until his _li_ blocked all light from the window and his bill almost rested on his shaded chest, the waterfowl squeezed his eyes shut and fought the urge to start pulling out feathers…a premature molting doubling as a means of private penance for his failure. One in a long line of them, he admitted in despair.

 

He hadn't deduced the truth about Vachir. Because he had been attempting to discern a pattern in the grisly killings, he hadn't given enough thought to Monkey's odd behavior, which had led directly to Mantis's death. And now, because he had been suspiciously, even obsessively, watching the simian for signs of a relapse in his condition, he hadn't even considered the fact Chao might go for Tai Lung himself next.

 

To be fair, until he'd learned the story behind the _chi_ wizard, Crane could never have predicted such a being existed, let alone guess he could possess the bodies and control the wills of others. And after the anguish and grief and shock of Mantis's demise had faded, he could be forgiven for believing that ensuring Monkey remained a closely guarded prisoner, so as to protect the Jade Palace from further betrayal, was the right course. But even so—he'd been a fool! Tai Lung himself had stated Chao wanted him, desired him as a dark and twisted servant.

 

Apparently before dying Vachir had confirmed this, as Tigress had attested. Like everyone else, Crane knew Tai Lung was susceptible to darkness, to wild rages and bouts of insanity, that in general he would always have the potential for instability and sudden explosions of uncontrolled violence. Why, oh _why_ , had he not kept a closer eye on the snow leopard, then? If he had, he might have seen the signs…at least kept him away from the village until Chao was defeated.

 

Because he hadn't, Zhuang was now dead, the Valley was in a fully justified uproar, and Tai Lung himself was in danger of being locked away again—or worse, executed. If, of course, he wasn't still under Chao's influence, becoming further corrupted as every hour passed.

 

How could they ever prove his innocence—if he even _was_ innocent? The villagers would never believe such a wildly supernatural tale, a menace they had never seen in the flesh. For that matter, no one in the Jade Palace had even seen or heard of Chao, either—all they had to go on was Vachir's clearly untrustworthy (and irreproducible) testimony. And Oogway's word, but even if the turtle's spirit consented to put in an appearance, somehow Crane didn't think anything he offered would be accepted, regardless the high standing Oogway had held in the Valley when alive. Who would listen to a ghost?

 

Oh, and the Wu Sisters, who of _course_ would gladly show up in the village square with bounties on their heads, swear oaths of truth, and politely tell Fu Xiao all about their employer and what he could do. If Tai Lung had not killed Zhuang, Crane was positive that the Sisters were the culprits instead. But he couldn't prove that either. No one had even seen them at all, let alone in the Valley, save for Tigress, Mei Ling, and Po.

 

The mountain cat would happily inform anyone who would listen about her half-sisters and what deadly, amoral criminals they were—in fact whether or not it would do any good, she had every intention of testifying. But she was an outsider, not a native of the Valley, and therefore viewed with suspicion and distrust. And as soon as it came out how exactly she knew the assassin trio, the very thing that would prove her information reliable would also completely discredit her as a witness.

_Yes, Your Honor, the three most deadly killers in China are my relatives. But don't pay attention to that, I'm also a Li Dai graduate and a master of the thousand scrolls. Just like Tai Lung. You can trust me, really._

 

As for Tigress, even if she were willing, after all that had transpired, to view the snow leopard in a new light and so come to his defense…she was nowhere to be found. In fact, when Shifu had taken his customary place in the dormitory hallway and the morning gong had been rung, the only student to step out of their door had been Crane himself, with Mei Ling also emerging groggily from her guest room. A quick investigation had revealed that Tigress's bed had not been slept in; for that matter, neither had Po's, and while Viper's was appropriately unmade, the serpent had not been in it.

 

The red panda had been furious, swearing sulfurously and planning all manner of cruel and unusual punishments for the three truant kung fu warriors when they returned—beginning with banning them from the kwoon and confining them to quarters, and ending with an enforced fast for the Dragon Warrior and a wardrobe of nothing but frilly dresses for the striped feline. He'd been all set to confiscate Viper's makeup accessories and romance novels, too, until Mei Ling had delicately suggested that might not be the wisest course if he wished to continue living, or at least fang-free.

 

Crane had rather thought the punishments for Tigress and Po just might also threaten the panda's life, and had seriously considered suggesting the two be switched—if for no other reason than a brief moment of levity at the likely look on his master's face. But just when Shifu was about to send Zeng to begin scouring the mountain, the village, and the countryside for his missing students, Crane had found the note hidden under Tigress's pillow.

 

Not that this had eased the red panda's ire, since not only did he find it in poor taste and even cowardly that the leader of the Four hadn't come and spoken to him directly (though privately, Crane couldn't blame Tigress on wanting to avoid that one), but the note itself was highly cryptic. Claiming that a matter of great urgency, a life-or-death situation, had come up which involved Po most personally, she had apologized for disappearing but said that she, Viper, and the Dragon Warrior would be back as soon as was feasible—since they'd had to make a sudden but unavoidable trip to Wu Dan.

 

That little tidbit would have been grounds for Shifu to go racing after the three warriors, if he wasn't effectively pinned in the Valley by the need to deal with the magistrate and Xiulan—and defend his son from these murder charges. Instead he had wanted to send Crane, if not to bring them back then to at least inform them of the situation with the snow leopard. But the avian had backed out, pleading injuries he'd sustained during the fighting in Chorh-Gom—in truth, he simply hadn't felt he could be trusted to bear such important tidings after all of his failures.

 

Besides, little Yi _did_ need watching…and if this matter on Wu Dan were truly as critical as Tigress had attested, the last thing he should do is interfere with it by bearing news she and the others could do nothing about. Not to mention, if he stayed here in the Valley there was a slender chance he could make up for all his transgressions and finally do something right.

 

So. Whatever had happened involving the panda, two of Tai Lung's biggest supporters and the only other who could testify to the Wu Sisters' presence were all absent from the Valley, right when he was framed for (or compelled to commit) murder. How convenient. The more he thought about it, the more worried Crane became—for it seemed that even after having his first plot foiled in Tavan Bogd, Heian Chao had succeeded in implementing another, even more convoluted plan that was clever and well-crafted enough to work. He had thought of everything. He just might win, in the end…

 

"Crane?"

 

Turning his head slowly to look behind him, he of course spied Mei Ling in the doorway of the front room which led back toward the hallway to the bedrooms. Something about her posture and expression, the way she idly wrung her paws and nibbled on her lower lip, made her seem surprisingly nervous and uncertain. There could be any number of reasons for this, ranging from feeling out of place in a stranger's house or worry over Yi to the tragic turn of events and the fact the two of them, while civil and polite, had not yet gotten the chance to formally make up after their last argument. But he nevertheless had a feeling what was bothering her.

 

Stepping toward him, the mountain cat did her level best to draw herself up to her full height and keep her shoulders square and strong. Nodding to herself, she reached over and, without hesitation, placed a paw on his wing. "I finally got Yi to take a nap by singing her that old song Mother taught me. The poor thing cried herself to sleep…anyway, if you don't mind, I was going to head over to the trial now. I don't think Tai Lung did this…and he needs all the support he can get, with so few of us here."

 

Crane eyed her askance, glanced down pointedly at her paw without saying anything, and then sighed as he gave her an understanding look. He knew why she wanted to be there, why she believed in the snow leopard…and despite how it broke his heart into hundreds of pieces to contemplate it, if Tai Lung truly was innocent then he deserved this…he deserved Mei Ling.

 

"That's…that's fine. You're right, he needs this and we should be standing by him. I'd be there myself, if not for…you know." Doffing his hat and clutching it to his chest in one wing, finding himself quite in need of a solid, familiar object to hold onto, the avian kung fu master paused, then forced himself to continue, to rush on and say what needed to be said. "I'm sure he'll be…very happy to see you there, Mei. You can tell him from me that I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused on the way to Chorh-Gom, and…before. And…he doesn't have to worry anymore. I won't stand in his way. Or yours."

 

Mei Ling quirked a brow, tilted her head rather comically, and regarded him in open bafflement. "What? Do you even _know_ what you're talking about?"

 

He narrowed his eyes flatly; he'd thought he was being fairly blatant about it. Was she still that angry at him, that she'd decide to feign ignorance, make him draw this out and spell it out so clearly? Or could she really be that blind? Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Crane took a deep breath. "I'm talking about you and Tai Lung, of course. I'm telling you it's okay, you don't have to pretend anymore for my sake. I know how you feel…and I'm all right with it, really. You should go be with the one you love, I won't cause any more scenes or anything. I'm sure you'll make a lovely—"

 

The whole time he was speaking, the mountain cat was staring at him with increasing incredulity, as if he were telling the most ludicrous joke in the empire. Or she simply couldn't believe what she was hearing. What, had she thought he wouldn't figure it out, that he'd write the whole incident in the scroll room off as being due to Heian Chao's influence and meaning nothing?

 

Worse, he thought he noticed the distinctive twitch and curl of her mouth which suggested she was about to grin and burst out laughing. But before he could rebuke her for thinking this a laughing matter, she abruptly stepped toward him—and just as he was launching into his rather forced congratulations, she cut him off…with a kiss right on his bill!

_What the…? Has the world turned completely inside out and upside down when I wasn't looking? But…this does feel so nice…_

 

Melting into the kiss, Crane could feel his knees growing weak, and he was certain an absolutely ridiculous, sappy grin was on his face the whole time. By the time Mei Ling broke the kiss, his entire train of thought had been broken, and all he could think was how utterly beautiful those almond-shaped brown eyes were…and how much he wanted her to kiss him again. "Wh…what? I…I don't understand…"

 

She did laugh now, soft and gentle yet still filled with genuine mirth and sympathy. "Oh dear…you really _are_ clueless, aren't you? Crane…in so many ways, you're the most intelligent and insightful person I've ever met—and other times, like now, you're so unbelievably dense. It's what makes you so adorable and maddening at the same time."

 

"What?" He seemed to be saying that a lot lately, but at least this time he was justified. Was she rightfully pointing out his flaws, or mocking him? How could the same thing make her both like and resent him? Women made no sense!

 

Chuckling openly, the mountain cat regarded him with twinkling eyes. "As I tried to tell you before, as I would have told you if Zeng hadn't interrupted us, I don't love Tai Lung, I love _you_ , doofus."

 

His thudding heart practically leaped out of his chest at hearing that, but even so he couldn't believe it. Was this real? Could she really, truly love him after everything he'd put her through, all his cowardice and shameful insecurity, his coldness and jealousy? Had she forgiven him, begun to see him in a different light? Or could she have loved him all along? Could his fantasy have finally come true? But… "Wait a minute, I don't understand."

 

"Yes, we established that." Amusement continued to dance within her throaty, purring voice.

 

"You love me."

 

"That's right."

 

"Honestly, genuinely, 'Confucius says' love me. You'd swear to it before the gods?"

 

Mei Ling grinned archly. "I'd swear to it in front of Emperor Chen, if I thought it'd do any good at getting through that granite skull of yours. Maybe his personal priest can marry us, hmm?"

 

Crane blinked, uncertain whether to laugh or glare at her. "But…but…what about Tai Lung?"

 

"Well, he can come to the ceremony too," the mountain cat said easily. "Heck, he might even have one of his own to attend…"

 

"No! I mean—you know, the kwoon? The kiss? What happened between you two?"

 

Mei Ling laughed again, although it was fond and gentle, not mocking. "That was all an act, Crane. Okay, it went a little farther than either of us intended, and there was probably some real emotion behind it, but it was just a set-up to make Tigress jealous."

 

"Tigress? You mean she—she and Tai Lung—and _that's_ what you meant when you said—" Crane's head was spinning. How could he have missed it? Was Chao that good at messing with his mind? Was he that willing to misconstrue, to see things that weren't there and ignore what was right in front of his face, because he wanted an excuse to flee his responsibilities, to not risk rejection and heartache from the mountain cat?

 

"Of course!" Mei Ling giggled merrily. "I know, we were pretty convincing, but that was the point—not for your benefit, but for hers. You really think that cat would have done anything, made any move, if I hadn't pushed her? I respect and admire Tigress more than anything, but that girl is about as stubborn and immovable as WuShon when she sets her mind to it."

_You don't know the half of it._ Still, Crane couldn't help shaking his head as the true magnitude of this news, and his own ignorance, washed over him. He could be excused for not seeing it, he thought defensively, and not just because of being willfully blind himself. How could anyone, prior to this, have possibly entertained the notion of Tai Lung and _Tigress_ getting together? It was incredible, preposterous, utterly sadistic—he'd tried to kill her when they first met, and the feeling had been entirely mutual! She'd still wanted to, after he started staying at the Jade Palace, even more so after what happened to Po at Yunxian, and he'd seemed to enjoy baiting her entirely too much.

 

How, and when, could this have possibly changed? And fine, back in Tavan Bogd, Tigress had said she had a man in her life—but who would have guessed she meant Tai Lung? There'd been more evidence it was _Zhuang_ she meant, considering he had saved her life in the birch forest—if it weren't for him already being married. And the kind of man who would leave his wife to marry her was exactly the kind Tigress would have nothing to do with. Of course now, that whole possibility was rather moot…

 

Putting a wing to his head, and forcing back the sudden wave of sorrow and depression, Crane muttered, "Why am _I_ always the last one to know anything?"

 

"Do you _really_ want me to answer that?" Mei Ling smirked.

 

"Um…no."

 

"Good." The mountain cat paused, and then her voice became earnest and intense. "I'm…I'm sorry, Crane. I couldn't tell you before, because it had to be a secret, or Tigress would have bit off both our heads. Sure as anything, if you hadn't given us away by spilling your guts where she could hear it, you would've tried to help. And let's face it, matchmaking isn't your forte, any more than lying is."

 

"No…" he said softly, faintly, still unable to process this. "No, it isn't…"

 

Her voice dropped, and some of the good humor left it, replaced by distress. "Anyway…I wasn't sure you'd approve. Faking a romance, manipulating people and emotions, pulling the wool over Tigress's eyes, all to make her react the way we wanted? It doesn't sound…especially admirable, does it?"

 

Crane sighed; finally, he understood, and the truth made him squirm, as well as want to hide under his _li_ and never come out again. Reaching over, he placed both wings on her shoulders and gazed straight and true into her remorseful, downcast eyes. "You don't know me very well, do you? Maybe the methods left a bit to be desired, Mei Ling…but your heart was in the right place. Helping someone find love is always a good thing, always the right choice. Master Oogway always said love was the greatest gift in this world." He paused. "Except for peaches. And even that, he said, was love in fruit form…"

 

"Crane…you're getting off the point," she said gently.

 

"Anyway," he said, flushing, "if there's one thing that can help Tai Lung, get him back on the right path in life, it's love. And Tigress has always been wedded to her kung fu. This…this is the best thing that could ever happen to both of them, they just didn't see it. Especially her. And…" He trailed off, eyes slightly widening. "Love just might have saved them both from Heian Chao. If I understand what Master Oogway told Tai Lung…and what Vachir said…he can manipulate and use dark emotions.

 

"But love is the purest, most selfless emotion there is. He can't harm that…or touch it. That's…that must be why he couldn't affect Viper much…or Po. And Master Shifu—okay, well he doesn't feel much of anything, he's more like a stone, or at least, he locks up his feelings in a cupboard and never lets them out, so of course they couldn't be influenced—"

 

Once again, she cut him off with a kiss, and this one rather more determined and passionate. When she pulled back and he could breathe again, Mei Ling regarded him candidly. "Crane…you talk too much."

_I do not_ — _all right, maybe I do_. He sighed.

 

Brushing off his vest and smoothing it out, she then gave him one last embrace and stepped back, holding both of his wingtips in her dainty paws. "Now, I don't want to hear any more about you martyring yourself for Tai Lung and me. Got it? I'm still going to his trial, to help him out. But it's you I want, no one else…and you're _not_ getting away from me again, not this time. You're mine now, and I'm never letting you go."

 

"Uh…remember what I said about love being selfless?" he replied nervously. "You're…not sounding that way right now. Not to mention patient, or kind, or—"

 

Mei Ling folded her arms. "Kind of hard to be that way when your man is too willful to see what's right in front of his face. Which, by the way—you're evading again. Are you going to drop this foolishness?" Her expression turned pleading. "I love you, Crane, and I don't care anymore what anyone thinks, I don't care if everyone knows—in fact, I want them to!"

 

Now she had that fiery glint in her eyes he knew so well, and had always treasured and adored, as she clenched one fist. "So, you'd better just accept your fate, and know that as soon as this is all over and we've got peace again, you and I are getting together and that's that. No more dithering, no more denial. Got it?"

 

"Yes, ma'am," Crane said instantly, contritely, in blatant imitation of Po's response to Tigress, and Mei Ling had to laugh.

 

Right after he leaned in to return her kisses, however, and replaced his _li_ on his head, there came a sudden banging on the door, which immediately burst open and slammed into the wall to admit a small, red-robed, large-eared form. "Mei Ling! Thank the gods you're here…"

 

"Master Shifu?" The mountain cat turned, one eyebrow raised, only to have her expression shift instantly to one of intense concern, and Crane couldn't blame her. The red panda looked absolutely frantic, his clothes in disarray as well as slightly dirty and ripped, and even his queue was coming unraveled. One eye was twitching harder and faster than he'd ever seen it.

 

"They're about to start Tai Lung's trial, and I need you!"

 

"Wh-what? I don't understand, why…?"

 

"No time for questions! We have to go, immediately!" Shifu was already grabbing Mei Ling's paw and bodily dragging her from the room. "We have to prove his innocence, there's evidence for you to examine, I'll explain on the way to the court." And just like that, he was gone, with the mountain cat only able to offer a quick wave and a sheepish, apologetic smile before she was pulled off with him.

 

Crane was still standing there, trying yet again to figure out what just happened and what it all meant, when he heard the floor creak faintly behind him, followed by a yawn and a soft sniffle. "M-Master Crane? Wh-what's…going on…? It got really noisy…"

 

Turning, he of course found little Yi standing there in the doorway, rubbing at her eyes and clad in her white night clothes. With all the fuss Shifu had made in arriving and then hastening out with Mei Ling, it didn't surprise Crane at all that the little girl had woken up. Smiling as kindly and reassuringly as he could, the bird ducked down slightly and made a gentle cupping gesture with both wings to urge her onwards. "Shh, it's all right, Yi. It was just Master Shifu. You can go back to sleep, I'll be here when you wake up." He glanced past her into the hallway. "Did you want me to fix you a little lunch before you lay down again?"

 

Yi furrowed her brows, frowned, and then stubbornly crossed her arms over her chest as she turned away, elevating her muzzle. "Not hungry. And I wouldn't eat anyway. I'm not _ever_ gonna eat again!"

 

Crane blinked; he knew, of course, that sometimes children got very strange ideas in their heads and latched onto them beyond all reason, but he had no idea what could have prompted this. "What do you mean? Why not?"

 

A soft sniffle came from behind one hand as the tiny bovine rubbed fiercely at her running nose. "'Cause I'll die. That's…that's what happened to Baba. He went to go eat last night, and never came back." A stricken look crossed her face, and she began to cry.

 

Something seemed to crumble inside Crane, and as he tried very hard (and unsuccessfully) to hold back his own tears, he hurriedly knelt and took Yi into his wings, clasping her close to his chest and patting her softly on the back. "Oh…oh, _xiǎo jiāhuo_ …it's all right, everything's going to be all right…shhh…" As he rocked her back and forth, cradling the back of her head, he added gently, "You don't have to worry, you can eat just fine, you won't die, I promise…"

 

Several minutes passed before Yi's sobs finally quieted. When she at last looked up again, wiped her eyes and nose (in Crane's vest, but he didn't mind in the slightest), and gave him a watery but grateful look, he finally felt it safe enough to ask her a question—because something she'd said seemed rather odd to him. "What did you mean though, little one? Your baba…he went to eat, last night?"

 

Nodding solemnly, the cow girl shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly. "Uh-huh. To Mr. Ping's, he said." She hiccupped.

 

Crane froze, mechanically caressing and patting Yi's back as his mind began racing furiously. Zhuang had gone to Ping's? But Tai Lung would have had no reason to go there last night…not that the Sisters had a reason to be there either…except—yes. They had been hired by Heian Chao to take out Po. Surely they would target anyone close to the panda, whether to gain information, blackmail him, or set a trap for him—it was exactly the sort of thing Xiu would do. Of course she would threaten Ping.

 

Now Po was missing, Tigress had gone off on a surprise and secret mission to help him, a 'matter of life and death'. Could Ping be the one in danger? And Zhuang, who was known to be a friend of Ping's, had died in his noodle shop.

 

If so… Nothing could be done about the goose now that was not already being done—surely the Dragon Warrior, Tigress, and Viper could handle the sisters and effect a rescue. But if the bull had met his tragic end in Ping's kitchen…there might just be evidence left behind there. If the villagers hadn't missed it or accidentally discarded it. If Xiu had, for once, not been thorough enough, had overlooked some crucial detail. A weapon, a bit of torn cloak, anything at all. Anything which could help Tai Lung, prove his innocence…

 

Looking up from his reverie as he felt Yi pull out of his arms, Crane watched as the cow girl listlessly crossed the room to stand behind the curtains, peering out into the village streets at all the people heading to the trial. As he came up behind her and also looked out, he was puzzled to see another frown on her face, only this one was more annoyed than anything else. "What is it, dear?"

 

"Why is it so dark?"

 

Crane looked from Yi to the well-lit, noonday, bright and sunny streets and fought the urge to feel her forehead for a temperature. "Um…what? It's day out there, Yi. Not nighttime."

 

"I know _that_ ," she muttered, for all the world as if he were the one making nonsensical pronouncements. "I was talking about the people."

 

"The people?" he echoed.

 

"Uh-huh. They're…they're all dark. Like they all got black clothing on. Or their shadows got too big." Utterly serious, as if she were imparting a message from the Emperor himself, she added, "Just like Mama's did."

 

The chill that blossomed in Crane's heart and spread down every limb was the deepest and most terrifying he'd ever felt, even worse than in Yunxian, when he'd read Vachir's note, or at Qinghe and Chorh-Gom. For he remembered what Oogway had always taught him, that 'children can see what we cannot'—especially the presence of evil. Shadows. Dark _chi_. If Chao were here, in the Valley…if he were spreading his influence to the townspeople, and especially to Xiulan…then there was no time to lose. The proof had to be found, Tai Lung had to be saved, and Chao had to be stopped.

 

So it was that in less than ten minutes' time, the avian had quickly summoned the next-door neighbor Mrs. Liu, and after procuring her services in babysitting Yi in his place, he rushed out of the house and into the streets, heading straight toward Ping's noodle shop. He only hoped he could find something that would help—and that he would find it in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little to say here; this close to the end, I'm making fewer references. One thing I will comment on is that Chao's temptation of Tai has a few echoes in it of the Avatars' offer to Cole on _Charmed_ , as well as hints of how Rufus Scrimgeour spoke to Harry in _Half-Blood Prince_. I found it delicious fun to conflate those two, since they seem to cover for me the range of Chao's personality and motivations. I also found it a lot of fun, as I have all along, to deliberately plant as many tropes as possible in my story. The section with Crane alone has I Want My Beloved to Be Happy, Shut Up Kiss, the resolution of Poor Communication Kills, and (I hope) a genuine justification for the Power of Love. The bit with Yi's insight into the dark chi is not just typical Children Are Innocent, but a reference to the Chinese belief that children can see dark spirits. And _xiǎo jiāhuo_ means 'little one'.


	36. Consider the Source

 

 

Cresting the last rise in the cliffside ledge just before the three of them would come into view of the peak of Wu Dan, Tigress glanced aside warily and, she had to admit, a trifle worriedly. Beside her on the rocky path, the black and white form of the Dragon Warrior made his way up into the misty heights of the range with a stamina and unwavering commitment that was startling. Rather than trudging and panting as she'd expected, he was barely breathing hard and he set such a rapid, relentless pace that even she found herself a little hard-pressed to keep up; apparently, the kung fu training the panda had undergone with Tai Lung and Mei Ling had most certainly paid off.

 

More to the point, however, was the expression on his broad-featured face: a grim finality in the set of his jaw and tightly-clamped lips, an almost cold flatness in his usually sparkling, vibrant green eyes. Gone, it seemed, was the playful, sweetly endearing noodle-maker he'd been when they first met, at least for the moment; in his place was a determined and fierce fighter she had never once suspected might lie beneath his amiable exterior. She'd had glimpses of it before, how during Shifu's crash course he had never once given up or allowed any amount of abuse to deter him from achieving his lifelong dream, and she'd known that, somehow, the panda had defeated Tai Lung in single combat.

 

Until now, she'd had no inkling how that miracle had come about. But now, watching the surprising play of muscle beneath those squared shoulders, the way his black-furred fists subtly clenched until the knuckles cracked, the gritted teeth and the glint which came from beneath his knitted brows, the leader of the Furious Four could at last understand. For all his initial bumbling, the laughable antics which had misled her into believing he did not take kung fu seriously, and the overall placidity and gentleness of his demeanor, the heart of a true warrior beat inside his chest. If Tigress had had any lingering doubts as to the panda's fitness for the Dragon Scroll, they would now be dashed.

 

She knew why this was, of course, what had driven Po to this unusual emotional state—one he'd been in ever since he first came to Tai Lung's room in the dormitory of the Jade Palace the night before. For when he had investigated the striped feline's own chamber, only to find it undisturbed, and all of his shuffling and scrambling about in the darkness had attracted Tigress's attention so that she softly but harshly called out to summon him to where she'd been waiting somewhat worriedly for the snow leopard's long-delayed return from the village, the Dragon Warrior had hurriedly explained everything.

 

How he'd gone to his father's restaurant to meet with Zhuang and his wife, there to hopefully work on enjoining Xiulan to relent in her prejudiced hatred for Tai Lung. How instead he'd encountered Wu Chun in the eerie, mist-shrouded, rather terrifying streets, only to be offered a poisonous and frankly insulting deal by the assassin trio and their wicked master. And how, when he'd objected quite strenuously to its terms and conditions and had been going to refuse outright, the snow leopardess had blithely informed him of Ping having fallen into their cruel clutches.

 

Hearing this, Tigress had thought fast. There was no way, of course, they could allow this state of affairs to remain unchanged, nor could they possibly let Po give in to the Wu Sisters' demands. She would never go so far, of course, to admit that Xiu's blatant challenge to flout her orders and accompany the panda to the sacred peak had practically screamed to be answered. But by the same token, neither could poor Mr. Ping be left at the killers' "tender mercies", and letting Po go alone to rescue him was also out of the question.

 

The only thing left to be determined was how exactly they would defeat the assassins while still keeping the goose alive. Killing him, of course, would abrogate the deal, hopefully doom Chao's plot by ensuring Po's participation in the final battle, and set off a wrath never seen from the panda. But just because the Sisters would have to be mad to take Ping's life just yet didn't mean he was completely out of danger. Then, of course, there was the matter of taking out three fighters who had separately trounced both him and Tigress…

 

Just as she had been about to suggest sneaking into the Hall of Warriors and absconding with whatever weapons they deemed prudent, a diffident cough had come from the doorway, and Viper had revealed herself. Having also stayed awake to await Tai Lung's return—if for no other reason than to continue teasing the snow leopard about the nature of his errand, Tigress suspected—she "couldn't help but overhear". And she was absolutely determined to be included in whatever plans they made, or else she was going to tattle on them to Shifu.

 

That threat was sufficient to prompt their agreement, since neither Tigress nor Po wanted the red panda to get involved—this was personal, both of them had compelling reasons to seek out the Wu Sisters and put an end to their siege, and if Shifu knew what they were planning he would either forbid their going or insist on doing the deed himself. Not that they doubted the master of the Jade Palace could handle the assassins…but there was a chance that Ping could become injured or even killed if Shifu became too focused on his quarry. And both the panda and the striped feline wanted to take care of the Sisters themselves.

 

Viper, too, it seemed, had reason to come along aside from simply protecting her friends—unless Tigress missed her guess, the serpent had come to care for Po very deeply as a friend, and so had taken the Wu Sisters' targeting of him for death with as much cold fury and fiery hatred as any of them had ever seen from Tai Lung.

 

So it was that the three of them had departed the Jade Palace, leaving a note behind to explain their absence—and quite willing to weather whatever punishments Shifu would dole out upon their return, so long as they first succeeded in rescuing Po's father, defeating the Wu Sisters…and perhaps, getting a little delicious revenge in the bargain. But although all three had been united in their goals, even Tigress had been startled, and more than a little upset, by the change in the panda.

 

It had been immediately apparent once they'd descended the side of the Jade Mountain and made a wide berth around the village, with how the bear had slipped as soundlessly and swiftly through the fields and forests as the two females, his focus lending him skill and light-footedness he usually did not possess. It had manifested all throughout their hours-long journey through the shadowy, brume-laden night—when the usually garrulous Dragon Warrior had remained utterly, absolutely silent the entire trip, save for the occasional noncommittal grunt or laconic phrase muttered whenever Tigress or Viper inquired as to his welfare or sought more information about the situation at Wu Dan.

 

The end result of that, an unnervingly quiet travel beneath midnight skies which were becoming ever darker as racing clouds hid both moon and stars, had only served to hone their tempers and fears to an even finer razor's edge. And as the dawn's first rays had finally begun spearing over the eastern ridgeline to bathe the land in light and warmth, coinciding with the scaling of Wu Dan's lowest slopes, they had revealed the same expression Po wore now…a look of ferocity, of unrelenting resolve, and above all, a smoldering and bitter anger she had never expected to find there. Even the way he'd acted in her room, following that night in the birch forest, could not have prepared her for the outright animosity in the panda's expression now.

 

He had gone beyond angry, he was _pissed_ …and while she completely understood why, sympathized deeply, and rather suspected the Wu Sisters were not going to know what hit them, she had to wonder how far Po would be willing to go to get his father back, safe and sound. Surely he would not kill, not without provocation—would he? And if he were given no other choice, and he had to do so in the defense of his own life or theirs, she fully expected him to be overcome afterward with remorse, or at least disgust. But what if he wasn't?

 

Up until now, Chao had seemed unable to affect the panda whatsoever…now, at last, through the indirect means of the Wu Sisters, he might have unlocked a darker side to the Dragon Warrior. And Tigress had no idea where that might lead…

 

Something of this may have come through in her own expression, for an odd spasm seemed to pass over Po's face, his features twisting in an obscure pain and regret. But then the moment passed, and once more he was only hard and unyielding. Before either of them could speak, however, Viper, who had slithered up between and beyond them to the promontory overlooking Wu Dan, suddenly cried out in mingled shock and terror. Hurrying to the serpent's side, Tigress saw at once what had upset her—and it made her own heart leap into her throat.

 

There, across the valley which plunged between their ledge and the sacred peak itself, they could see the plain of shimmering, softly billowing grass where the greatest of kung fu fighters learned to hone their craft, the rocky cliffs above shining and burnished in the golden sunlight, mist encircling the highest reaches while churning rivers and streams crossed the plateau or tumbled from the ledges in gorgeous cascades. However, just below the looming monolith from which Shifu, and Oogway before him, had trained each of the Jade Palace's warriors in turn, where there should have been the gleaming, sparkling waters of the Pool of Sacred Tears, something was…wrong. Even at this distance, Tigress could see something which did not belong, a churning maelstrom of roiling darkness that boiled out of its banks and flowed, effortlessly and endlessly, across the plain toward the precipice and the Valley far below.

 

"What…?" she whispered harshly. "What has happened? Who could have—why—"

 

"Chao," Po said huskily, sounding sick inside but also utterly, completely decisive, as if he'd been granted sudden and unequivocal insight. "It's gotta be. I dunno how or why, but…somehow he's polluted the pool, or something."

 

Silent and uneasy, Tigress exchanged a long, troubled look with Viper. "I don't like the sound of that. He must have done it for a reason. And if he can do that to a place so pure and pristine, then…"

 

"Don't even think about it," Viper cut across her crisply. "We're _not_ going to let him get away with this, or anything else he's done. Anyway, one thing at a time. There's someone a lot more immediate to worry about—three someones. And a friend to rescue."

 

Leave it to Viper to see to the heart of the matter, as always. The leader of the Four paused, glanced at Po to discover he looked even more forthright and pugnacious than ever, and then nodded. Unconsciously flexing her fingers into fists until all her knuckles cracked, she narrowed her eyes and hissed softly under her breath. "Yes…let's get this over with." And so saying, she turned and led the way around the valley's rim toward Wu Dan.

 

When the three of them finally reached the craggy shelf at the edge of the forests covering the mountain, it didn't take them long at all to discover what was amiss, although it was still unclear what exactly had happened or how. Beneath the boughs of the whispering pine trees and the looming guardian of the menhir, the Pool of Sacred Tears had been…changed, somehow. No longer a placid, silvery expanse of clear, pale blue, it had become twisted and foul, steaming and churning endlessly as if some source unseen had released the fires of the earth into its depths, changing it into a particularly repugnant hot spring. It wouldn't surprise her if, upon touching its waters, her paw would be scalded and seared by its boiling heat.

 

Tigress's eyes were so unerringly fixed on this terrible transformation that she didn't realize what else was wrong until Po suddenly groaned aloud. Jerking her eyes away from the black waters, she gasped instinctively. Hanging from a length of knotted rope tied around the thickest limb of the tree which stood beside the pool, his body creaking and swaying in the mountain wind, was Mr. Ping.

 

From the furious snarl the Dragon Warrior gave, it was clear he'd concluded his father was dead, but as she peered closer, the striped feline saw that the goose's chest still rose and fell, however marginally, and while his eyes were glazed and bulging, they still blinked and shifted occasionally. His treatment was cruel and inhumane, but the rope must have been tied in such a way as to keep him still alive—if only barely. "Po…it's all right, I don't think he—"

 

Before she could say more, she was suddenly interrupted by a clearing throat behind her, and a few drawled, bored-sounding words. "Well, well, well. We thought you'd never get here. And I see that you can't even follow a direct order when your muzzle's shoved in it."

 

Twisting about abruptly, Tigress looked back at a boulder which she knew, when they'd passed it before, had been completely empty. Now, however, the slender, black-cloaked figure of Wu Xiu lounged upon it lazily, idly tossing a dagger back and forth between her paws, and even as she watched, the accompanying figures of her sisters seemed to detach themselves from the concealing shadows of the nearest trees. In seconds, before they could even blink, the three of them had been surrounded.

 

Yet to her pleasant surprise, if also a solemn understanding, Po did not even flinch at this, nor did he take his eyes off of Xiu. As steady as a stone, as calm and still as the Moon Pool, and as focused as Mantis had ever been, the panda shifted his feet only an inch, only marginally leaning to one side, but Tigress marked it instantly for what it was—tensing his muscles in preparation for the opening Dragon stance.

 

And the Wu Sisters seemed to recognize it too, since both Chun and Jia at once moved to grasp weapons, the former her fire wheels, the latter a war fan. Even the eldest sister regarded Po with more care and concern than she likely had in Yunxian, sitting up on the boulder and clutching her dagger more threateningly. Something had shifted in the balance of power, and they knew it.

 

"Funny thing about that," Po suddenly said, and even his voice was different, soft and sibilant, with a dark, menacing edge. "I don't really take well t' bein' given orders. An' I never do what I'm told, either."

 

If the situation had not been so dire, if it hadn't been absolutely necessary to remain poised for combat, and if she weren't filled herself with a growing rage and disgust, Tigress might have laughed at that comment—since it brought to mind images of how the panda had responded to Shifu's training, refusing to leave the Jade Palace or abandoning the position Oogway had chosen for him no matter how much the Furious Five or their master had battered and pummeled him, no matter the cold shoulders given and the relentless mockery that had been made of him that first day.

 

Contrary to what they'd been told would be Xiu's reaction should the Dragon Warrior not come to Wu Dan alone, the snow leopardess seemed positively delighted he had disobeyed and they were all here—in fact she outright grinned at his audacious response. "So I see. It seems I underestimated you, too, panda. I guess Heian Chao was right about you after all."

 

"Yeah, about him," Po growled. "What'd he do to the Sacred Pool? Or was that your doin'?"

 

"We just gave him the poison to taint it with," Xiu said offhandedly, as if she were just passing along an old family recipe. "As for what he did—don't know, don't care. All that matters to me is that you sit this battle out, so that Chao can win and we'll finally get what we want. What we've dreamed of for years." She paused, then slyly smiled sidelong at him. "But then you know all about dreams, don't you?"

 

"Don't you _dare_ try and compare yourself to him!" Viper snapped, rising up on her coils to glare furiously at her.

 

But the panda was already cutting in, and from the sound of his voice he was still as angry as he was repulsed by the Wu Sister. "You're a real piece of work, yanno that? This guy is bad news, the worst thing that could ever happen t' China, an' all you care about is, what, gettin' Tai Lung on your leash?" He shook his head, then frowned as something seemed to actually get through his ire. "There's gotta be more to it than that. What do ya really want?"

 

"A lot of things," Chun said, speaking up in her usual no-nonsense, seemingly disinterested tone. Her voice was just as quiet as Po's. "I want the deadliest kung fu strike, the one that can kill with the flick of a single finger. Jia wants to stay young and beautiful. And Xiu…"

 

The eldest sister performed an artful gesture, inscribing a hanzi character in mid-air with her knife; it took Tigress a moment to recognize it as the character for the number four—for death. "Heian Chao has promised to make me a master of _chi_ , as he is…to have the same power over life and death, dark and light, soul and will." She licked her lips suggestively, a glint of fang showing, and something unholy and rapturous appeared in her cold blue eyes, something inhuman. Only by sheer force of will did Tigress keep from showing weakness by stepping back a pace.

 

Po, quite properly, ignored the other sisters and their desires—which were, after all, understandable if not natural. Instead he zeroed in on Xiu, and the look on his face mingled contempt with disbelief, even a trace of nausea. "Wait a minute…you know what he can do with that stuff. You've been here long enough t' see all those bodies around th' Valley. And ya saw Monkey's room just like th' rest of us. That's th' kinda things that happen when ya let Chao in, when ya let yourself get twisted an' use life th' way he does. An' ya _still_ wanna have his powers?"

 

Her smile became broader, gloating, rapaciously possessive, and if her paws hadn't been busy with a dagger, she likely would have rubbed them together in gleeful anticipation. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I want that? You really are slow on the uptake, panda. Didn't you get the message when you learned we were assassins? We _like_ to kill. And I for one can't wait until I don't need paltry things like weapons and poisons…when I can simply take someone's breath with a thought, hold their life in my paws, control and compel them with my will…yes, that will be _glorious_ …"

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Tigress saw Jia shoot her sister an openly horrified, stricken look, and even Chun sidled a step or two away. But Po looked the most appalled and upset, his face going pale beneath the fur. "Gods…you're sick. Totally, absolutely, positively wacko. You know that, right?"

 

Xiu raised an eyebrow, chuckled, and then actually bowed before putting her free paw to her cheek as if to hide a blush. " _Such_ a flatterer you are, Dragon Warrior. You really know how to please a girl. Maybe Tai Lung should be getting romance tips from you instead?"

 

"Damnit, cut the crap, will ya?" The panda took a step forward, planting his foot down solidly and bringing his paws to bear in mirroring Dragon Fists. "I was gonna try an' be th' bigger person here—"

 

"You mean you're not already?" Xiu batted her eyes artfully. _Oh, she's going down!_

 

"—I was gonna be all diplomatic about this, but no more Mr. Nice Panda. I'm givin' ya one last chance t' surrender. Are ya gonna let my father go?" Po tilted his head marginally toward the swinging goose, still not taking his eyes off his adversary.

 

"Hmm, I don't know," the snow leopardess said thoughtfully, before fixing him with an incisive, pertinent stare. "Are _you_ going to sit this battle out, as we asked, and leave everything to Chao and Tai Lung?" The bear didn't dignify her rhetorical question with a reply, only glaring sullenly and reproachfully at her—the same sort of look one would use if treated like a child or a simpleton, which essentially was how everyone acted toward him upon first meeting, and Xiu was no better.

 

Reading this non-answer correctly, the Wu Sister let out a theatrical sigh and rose to her feet—but for all her languid motions and demeaning attitude, her weapon remained aimed straight and true to guard against any attack. "I thought as much. Violent, foolhardy, and ridiculously stubborn to the end. Now who does _that_ remind you of?" This last she directed at her violet-eyed sister, but whether because she refused to take her eyes off of Tigress or for some other reason, Jia didn't take the bait.

 

Po, unfortunately, did. "What're you talkin' about? You gonna try an' make me out t' be like Tai, say I got th' same darkness an' could rampage too? Not buyin' it."

 

She rolled her eyes. "Hardly. You aren't in the same league with him. You aren't even a player. Give a fellow one _special_ scroll, and suddenly he forgets all about the other thousand…no, it's just that, you're _such_ a chip off the old block, panda. It's quite remarkable, really…"

 

For several moments, silence reigned while each of them tried to process this, to even make sure they'd heard right let alone parse its correct meaning. Po especially had to blink hard several times before he could even find his voice. For a brief moment, his paws lowered a fraction of an inch, and he narrowed his green eyes as he stared piercingly at Xiu, as if trying to see into her wicked, rotten heart and (futilely perhaps) discover some buried, genuine truth there.

 

Then, suddenly, he shook himself and his paws were right back in position again, his face even harder and nastier than before. "Pfft. _Riiiiight_. Had me goin' there for a moment. But yanno, if you're gonna use a trick like that, just a word of advice: don't use it twice in a row. 'Specially not on a guy who heard ya use it th' first time."

 

"It's not a trick," Xiu said lightly, easily—but something in her voice made Tigress hesitate. She sounded, not pleased with her own cleverness, but delighted…as if at the fact she had hold of real information that allowed her to be as cruel and manipulative as she liked, that she dearly enjoyed being able to taunt and torment someone with what she knew to be true rather than with blatant lies and obfuscation.

 

"Believe it or not, I _did_ know your father. And your mother too. Small world, isn't it? And I'd be happy to tell you _all_ about them…if, of course, you agree to our terms and sit down for a nice, polite conversation. I don't know about you, but I rather find it hard to talk to someone when they have their fists in my face, about to beat me to a bloody pulp. That sort of thing, well, it just makes my memory a bit _fuzzy_ …"

 

Po started to laugh again—but somehow, perhaps as he saw the look of deadly seriousness mingled with cocky superiority in Xiu's eyes, it died in his throat. Again, he hesitated. Over his shoulder, Tigress saw Chun's eyes widen in surprising emotion, startled and a trifle worried; and beyond her, Jia actually flinched and looked guiltily from her sister to the panda. _I don't believe it…could they actually…?_ Po saw it too, and a spasm seemed to pass over his face, followed by confusion, distress, and at last, an almost painful, sorrowful yearning. "I…"

 

"Don't listen to her, Po," Tigress forced herself to say. "You know she's just trying to lure you into a trap, the same as she did Tai Lung. There'll be plenty of time to interrogate them _after_ we defeat them. If she even knows anything at all, which I doubt."

 

She hated having to say this if there really was even the slightest chance the Wu Sisters did know something about Po's lost family, but she had no choice. Ping had to be saved…and even with all the changes in Tai Lung, she had a very strong feeling he could not retain his lifeline on humanity without the panda. It certainly went without saying they probably couldn't defeat Heian Chao without him.

 

Meanwhile, Xiu sneered and let out a mirthless chuckle. "Isn't it a pity we live in such skeptical times? Fine, believe me or not, it's your choice. Do what you want, but I'm sure you know I'm a lot less likely to be cooperative after you've given me a thrashing—as you _so_ must want to do right about now."

 

Seeming to shake himself, the panda clenched his fists briefly, then curled his fingers again as he turned himself forty-five degrees and spread his legs apart to draw strength and support from the ground, as a good Dragon should. "Ya know what? I don't care."

 

"You're not even the least bit curious?" she taunted.

 

"Nope," Po said immediately. "I don't need t' know about my birth parents, I've been happy with my dad for th' last twenty years—an' I will be again, if ya ever let me have him back. That's even assumin' ya aren't lyin'."

 

"Pity," Chun murmured suddenly. "Even considering who they were, what they became, I think you would have liked them. I know they would have been proud of you."

 

The panda hesitated, looking both stricken and anguished, but then he waved a paw dismissively in the green-eyed sister's direction. "No, just…no! Stop it, all of ya! I ain't gonna listen t' any more of this…quit playin' games with me, just shut up!"

 

Even as he stopped yelling and clenched both paws, desperate and determined to be stoic and brave, Tigress felt her heart go out to him. She bit her lip, wishing beyond all reason she could tell him to give in—or better yet, that she had the answers he sought herself, so she could sit down with him and offer the comfort and closure he clearly needed.

 

But of course, the Wu Sisters wouldn't allow any of them that luxury. Tossing aside her black cloak, Xiu shook her head and _tsk_ ed reprovingly. As her sisters followed suit, she remarked, "Well, never let it be said I was without mercy or fairness. I gave you all the opportunity to back down, save face, and keep from suffering another humiliating defeat you could want—more than you deserve, really. But if that's how you want it…"

 

"No, that's how it has to be," Po snapped. "And what makes ya so sure it's me that's gonna be eatin' grass?"

 

Xiu regarded him sardonically. "Please. You may have Master Tigress with you, but she can't save you now."

 

"Really? Maybe I'm wrong, but I kinda think that if you 'ladies' hadn't cheated in that birch forest, you'd have been in some pretty deep trouble. In fact, from where I'm standin', ya kinda, yanno, _lost_ to Tigress. Big-time."

 

Unsurprisingly, the eldest sister looked incredibly nettled, even bristled hatefully at Po's apt summation. But she somehow managed to keep her voice level and gently condescending as she shook her head. And her words made Tigress bristle anew. "Well of course, that's what _she'd_ tell you…if you'd been there, you'd have seen something quite different. But what about you? Unless I'm mistaken, there's no chance you've gotten good enough just in two months' time. Not to outfight me."

 

"You'd be surprised," the panda snorted. "Believe me, I've learned enough. You're not gonna win this time." It was the confident way he said it that convinced Tigress; he _had_ learned a great deal, from all of them. There was a strong chance he _could_ defeat the Sisters this time, especially with her and Viper's help.

 

Xiu lifted her arm to a horizontal fighting stance across her chest, her dagger brought to bear. "Yes, yes, I can see you've lost some weight and put on some muscle, good for you." Her eyes narrowed and flashed. "Not enough, I'm afraid. But don't worry, you won't be fat anymore after I gut you—just like I did that meddlesome bull."

 

Everyone froze, shocked to the core by the horrendous implication of these words. There were other bulls in the Valley…but none whose death would be worth taunting them about. And Po had told them how he'd been going to meet Zhuang and Xiulan for dinner at his father's shop. If the Sisters had gone there to kidnap Ping, then…

 

At the same moment she and Viper realized Xiu's words, for once, could be sadly and painfully true, the Dragon Warrior seemed to understand, too—and Tigress heard from him something she'd never heard before. A genuine, ugly, hateful growl, deep and vicious and savage…the sort she imagined a bear would make if his cub were threatened. "Why you…how could you…you _didn't_ …" He seemed inarticulate with his rage.

 

"My, you _are_ like Bao," Xiu observed. "Who'd have thought…and here I was sure you didn't have a murderous bone in your body. This might just be entertaining after all."

 

" _Bitch!_ " Po finally thundered, and then he leaped forward—and he sprang so fast, so powerfully, so strongly, that none of them, not even Xiu, saw more than a blur of black and white before he'd landed and swung forward with a teeth-rattling, bone-cracking right hook. The punch struck the snow leopardess squarely in the jaw, rocking her head back—and sending her flying twenty feet backwards into a tree trunk, showering the ground with leaves, twigs, and several good-sized branches.

 

Even as she was struggling to her feet and shaking her head to clear it of the ringing, and sheathing her dagger to bring out her fire wheel instead, the panda was barreling toward her, building up a significant head of steam. When he was ten feet away, he leaped up in a forward-strike, his foot aiming precisely for Xiu's breastbone—but at the same time, he gestured with one paw behind him. From the nearby river, a wall of water suddenly rose, lashing out across the field to cut them off, however briefly, from Chun and Jia—and incidentally, smack down upon the sisters with a healthy, bruising slap.

 

Snarling and yowling as they were drenched to the skin, both assassins leapt out of the impromptu deluge. Spying the female kung fu masters still standing there, looking just as stunned at Po's incredible feat of elemental _chi_ and kung fu prowess, Jia at once sprang toward Tigress, her meteor hammer already out and swinging. "Payback time!" the soaked cat cried furiously. "And I don't care what Tai Tai thinks, you are _not_ prettier than me!"

 

Tigress only had time to see Chun ducking down and to the side as she slashed out with her own fire wheel in Viper's direction, and then she had to twist herself and backflip away from Jia's hammer, inverting over the boulder to fly upwards and land atop the menhir. The youngest sister pursued her, vaulting upwards as well with acrobatic ease, and then all else was lost in the haze of battle.

                                                                       

* * *

 

By the time Shifu, with Mei Ling at his side, had reached the home of the magistrate Fu Xiao, where the trial would be held in the large inner courtyard—allowing for plenty of room for a considerable audience of the townsfolk—he had explained to her precisely what Tai Lung had told him in his cell and how she could be of use to him in proving his son's innocence.

 

Nevermind the fact the mountain cat looked rather more uncertain of his plan than he was, seemed openly worried and doubtful of its success…the same as the snow leopard had. What mattered was, she knew what would be required of her, what she would have to do. By the time they arrived, it was also just past noon, and the court had fully assembled, clearly ready to begin the proceedings at any minute.

 

When the red panda elbowed, pushed, and shoved his way through all the gathered, thronging citizens, however, and saw what had been arranged in the center of the courtyard, he couldn't keep back his groan of despair—or his scowl of insulted fury.

 

None of the people, it seemed, were allowed to be seated, for everyone was standing in tight-packed, grumbling ranks and rows surrounding the central garden. Directly in front of that square of vegetation, its brightly-hued blooms and heady fragrances standing in stark and mocking contrast to the occasion and its impetus, stood a large table covered with red cloth, behind which sat the formally-robed ram. Numerous piles of parchment lay nearby along with brushes, ink, and a stone for a gavel, a scribe stood alongside Fu to take down the proceedings and whatever might be dictated to him, and the ovine was currently reading over a scroll which presumably held all the details of the case and the charges.

 

What made Shifu's blood boil, and caused him to leave Mei Ling at the edge of the crowd so he could stalk forward to Fu's side, was that Tai Lung was kneeling in the middle of the courtyard before the table. Not by choice, but by compulsion—as he had been tied between two solid oak poles driven into the ground, his arms twisted and wound about them until they were painfully wrenched almost out of their sockets. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, the silvery-gray fur of his bare back exposed to the air…and from the way the nearest guards, a boar and an ox respectively, were grinning and leering openly while they smacked their clubs into their palms, they were itching to use such corporal punishment on their prisoner at the slightest provocation.

 

" _What_ is the meaning of this?" the red panda demanded in a vicious whisper. "How _dare_ you—Master Oogway explicitly forbade the use of these barbaric practices before I ever came to the Jade Palace! Have you lost your senses completely, Fu?"

 

Smugly, with an air of self-importance, the ram set down the scroll and looked at him with a hard, cold smile. "Master Oogway isn't here. And the last time I checked, I was the magistrate here, not you. Which means I can choose whatever means of trying and punishing criminals that I see fit. As for why I dare—I rather thought the old ways are the best, and in need of reinstitution. _Especially_ for this crime, and this criminal."

 

"No!" Shifu insisted. This couldn't be happening, there had to be a chance to get real, fair justice here. He couldn't believe this, it made no sense… "You are _not_ getting away with this! The accused is always innocent until proven guilty, and the Emperor has decreed—"

 

"The Son of Heaven isn't here either," Fu retorted. "I doubt he cares what happens in one distant village, even here in the Valley of Peace. If he knew what was going on, what had been done, he would agree with me, I'm sure. And no, Tai Lung at least is _always_ guilty until proven innocent. So unless you wish to share his fate, I suggest you get out of the way so we can get this over with." He paused, then chuckled softly. "Only a few hours, I think. I'd rather have the sentence carried out before nightfall, after all…"

 

Bristling, Shifu nevertheless fell back until he stood at the very edge of the crowd beside Mei Ling again. At this point, aggravating Fu Xiao would only make things worse. He could only hope that the mountain cat's testimony, and his own, would be enough to outweigh Xiulan, convince the magistrate, and overturn this spurious charge…

 

After another few minutes, the ram stood and pounded his gavel until the audience had fallen silent. Then he turned to face Tai Lung, who until that moment had kept his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the cobblestones. Coughing, Fu raised his voice peremptorily and called out in a tone that was authoritative, bored, and malicious all at once.

 

"Quiet! This court is now in session. In the matter of the murderer, ravager, and deplorable beast Tai Lung, the charge has been leveled that last night, on the fifth day of the eighth month, the accused did knowingly, deliberately, and wickedly take the life of Shen Zhuang, the builder. How do you plead?" This last was spoken with as heavy and blatant an irony as possible.

 

Now, finally, his son lifted his head a fraction of an inch to glare at the magistrate. "Not guilty," he growled.

 

"Of course," Fu noted sourly. "What else _would_ you say? Make my job that much harder, I see…" A brief wave of derisive laughter ran through the crowd.

 

"If I may speak, Your Honor?" The voice was hoarse, choked with tears, and wracked with pain, and Shifu knew, even before he saw her step forward, that it was Xiulan.

 

"By all means, Mrs. Shen," the ram said, his entire demeanor changing to one of kindness and solicitation. "You are the one he has wronged the most, and the one who witnessed the atrocity. Please tell us, in your own words, what took place."

 

Wringing her hands and occasionally dabbing at her weeping eyes with a handkerchief—something which, despite its obvious play for sympathy and drama, Shifu could tell she genuinely needed to keep up with her ceaseless crying—the cow woman moved into the center of the courtyard, to the right of and far removed from Tai Lung's kneeling figure. Yet when she spoke now, there was a firmness and clarity in her voice that was startling.

 

"Citizens of the Valley of Peace: you know what this foul, twisted man has taken from us already, what he did to our homes, our people, our entire way of life a score of years ago. I don't even need to go on about the wanton destruction, the families torn apart, the countless lives ended without thought or compassion that night. So I'll only relate what he has done to me…for the second time now."

 

She might have claimed she would not dwell upon the rampage of twenty years ago, but simply bringing it up at all, let alone her direct and pointed references to it, accomplished the same thing in a few short phrases; Shifu could see the numerous faces drawn taut with fear, grief, hatred, and anger, heard the crowd stir and mutter furiously, and saw them glare almost as one at the snow leopard's spotted back. _She's good_ , he admitted bleakly, despairingly. _She's barely begun, and she already has them in the palm of her hand._

 

"I went to Ping's noodle shop last night with my husband," Xiulan continued. "He wanted me to talk to his friend, to learn why he had forgiven Tai Lung and allowed him into his restaurant as a companion to his son, the Dragon Warrior Po." She broke off briefly to stare around suspiciously. "Whom, you may note, isn't even here to defend his supposed friend." Out of the corner of his eye, Shifu saw the snow leopard's ears twitch, the muscles of his shoulders bunch, and then his entire frame seemed to droop. Was he shaking with sobs?

 

"I went there, fully intending to refuse any and all overtures Ping made. We all know what a simple-minded fool he is, there isn't room in his tiny little head for anything but noodles." Several heads in the crowd bobbed in unison, though the expressions ranged from amused scorn to slightly guilty sorrow at admitting this. "But I went anyway, for my husband's sake, because I loved him with all my heart…and because he too was convinced Tai Lung had changed, found goodness inside him and redeemed himself. He was wrong…and it cost him his life."

 

She whirled around suddenly to stab a finger toward the feline. "I saw him with my own eyes. He was there, in Ping's kitchen last night. And he was not alone. He had the Wu Sisters with him." A collective gasp rose from the audience, and in spite of himself Shifu joined in; he had not expected Xiulan or anyone to know of the assassins' being in the Valley, let alone to admit to it. Hope mingled with fear in his heart. On the one hand, this meant he would not have to prove the three killers were there and could have done the deed instead, their presence had been established. On the other hand, even if Mei Ling proved the fur had been Xiu's, this would do no more than confirm what Xiulan had just said, that the Sisters were involved; it would not exonerate Tai Lung.

 

"They were after Ping—to use him as leverage against his son, I imagine. Zhuang, like the heroic and noble man he was, tried to talk them down, find a way to free his friend from their clutches. But one of the sisters went for my husband instead…there was a struggle…and then Tai Lung was there, and he stabbed Zhuang in the stomach."

 

The entire crowd groaned in despairing sympathy, even as they also stirred fitfully. Shifu thought he saw several swords and axes, as well as tools and makeshift weapons, being brought into play.

 

Xiulan wiped away tears again, then stared out at the sea of faces with vindication and blank horror in her eyes. "But that wasn't enough for him. He had to claw my husband open, too, tear him open and leave his entrails spilling out on the floor so he would die in mortal agony. He told me to flee if I wanted to live, to tell everyone he had returned and that this time, we would all die, that no one was safe from him. It's the only time he's ever told the truth, I'd stake my life on it."

 

As she fell silent at last, the court was utterly still and quiet, not a word spoken or sound made. Daring to glance aside at Mei Ling, Shifu saw anguish and sorrow on her face too…but when she shifted her gaze to rest her eyes on the snow leopard, and her expression did not change, he realized that she was reacting in empathy for both Zhuang and Tai Lung, not blaming him for this tragedy. Nerving himself, and deciding now was the best time—before this travesty went any farther and everyone's views were swayed by such clear appeals to emotion—the red panda stepped forward and struck Oogway's staff lightly against the stones for attention.

 

"Good afternoon, everyone," he declaimed, and was pleased to hear a ripple of greetings and acknowledgments—some half-hearted and cursory, but many more still deferential and respectful. "I know that I am only the master of the Jade Palace and have no standing here in the Valley. And I know that many of you may believe me far too biased in this case, considering what happened twenty years ago. But you should also know I have always been fair and just in my dealings with you…that both I and Master Oogway have protected you on numerous occasions—" _So you damn well owe me at least the courtesy if not the benefit of the doubt_. "—and that I would never knowingly steer you wrong. I have information relevant to this trial, which I believe you should hear before you proceed." He stepped aside, gesturing behind him to the mountain cat.

 

For her part, Mei Ling looked much more nervous and uncertain than she had that day in Yunxian, but when she spoke her voice was nevertheless clear and unwavering. "Thank you for listening, and for having me here. I must say, first of all, that I understand the pain, anger, and hate you must all be feeling. I too have lost someone close to me, my father. And he was taken from me by the same assassins Mrs. Shen has told you about. But then you must believe me when I say, I know them well, I have studied their methods and followed their trail for many years, determined to find justice myself. I know how they think and operate, what they are prone to do—how they kill, and how they maneuver matters to frame others for their crimes. A little over two months ago, they did just that, in the town of Yunxian. And their target was the same man you see before you…Tai Lung."

 

As everyone stirred again, this time murmuring in doubt and puzzlement as well as surprise, the Li Dai graduate proceeded to outline what the snow leopard had told the Five and their master about the encounter at the lakeshore, the battle which had taken place there, how close Po had come to death—and how her own examination of the battle site as well as the panda's body had confirmed Tai Lung's story. When she had finished, she looked out over the crowd, jaw set and eyes bright with just as much determination and confidence as Xiulan had shown. She also studiously avoided looking into the snow leopard's grateful eyes, since Shifu had warned her that any apparent connection and relationship between them would undermine her integrity.

 

"So you see…the Wu Sisters have proven once already quite willing to let Tai Lung take the fall for them. Far from him being one of them, they tried to kill him. They wanted him to join them, he said, but he refused. It seems they won't take no for an answer…that they'll continue killing and blaming him for it, until everyone turns on him and he has no one left." She paused, then bunched her fists at her sides.

 

"Don't let them succeed. Don't believe the lies they want you to. If they were truly there in Ping's kitchen, then they committed the deed alone. Tai Lung has turned his life around, he's willing to defend the Valley now, the same as the rest of the Jade Palace is. You let him go, he'll bring in the Wu Sisters for you, he'll avenge Zhuang. I swear it on my honor as a kung fu warrior."

 

Open gasps met that pronouncement, and Shifu couldn't help but smile, albeit grimly, behind his hand; as he had known going into this, the fact a kung fu warrior was willing to stake her honor on defending Tai Lung would have incredible weight, even for the poorer residents of the Valley. They would know that a true kung fu warrior, like Oogway or the Furious Four, would never risk compromising their honor for someone they did not fully trust and believe in.

 

Honesty and wisdom, strength of vision and forthright open-mindedness, these were the hallmarks of what the turtle had imparted to his students and displayed in his every word and deed. To violate the sanctity of this was unthinkable, it would literally cost a kung fu warrior their honor, would strip them of the prestige, acceptance, and respect they received everywhere they went. So if Mei Ling would say such a thing, why it must be true…

 

Yet of course, at least one present would not allow this to pass without remark. Xiulan stepped forward again even before Mei Ling could retreat, and as she spoke, despite her modulated tone, she was clearly struggling to hold back contempt and open malice. Her voice, nevertheless, was quite cold. "That is all well and good, Miss Ling. But all your story proves is that Tai Lung and the Wu Sisters do have a past together, that they had a chance to sink their claws in him and corrupt him to their way of thinking. And I know what I saw last night. Are you calling me a liar?"

 

To her credit, the mountain cat only regarded her calmly, without rancor. "No. I just think you were mistaken in what you saw. It was dark, it was late, and you were both terrified and grieving…"

 

"I know what I saw," Xiulan repeated insistently.

 

"But," Shifu cut in, as gently as he could manage (which he had to admit was not very), "you are not exactly…unbiased here. In fact I would say you are predisposed to distrust him. Anyone who spends even a little time in the village would be aware of that. Surely you can see how the Wu Sisters could use that to their advantage."

 

The bovine's nostrils flared impressively, and then she stalked over to stand above the panda. "You are as foolishly naïve as Zhuang was. If you had been there last night, Tai Lung would have killed you too. In fact, if what I've heard is true, he _did_ try to kill you, when you visited him in prison. Don't you think your trust is misplaced?"

 

More shocked whispers from the watching villagers, and this time when he glanced aside at Mei Ling he saw she too was stunned and, at least momentarily, rather wary as she looked at the bound snow leopard; of course Shifu had not told her what Tai Lung tried to do, it would not have looked good to her at all. "No, I do not," he snapped vehemently, drowning out the chattering and wrenching everyone's gazes, including Mei Ling's, back to him.

 

"Whatever rumors you heard, as usual, do not tell the full story. Tai Lung merely wished to escape the confines of his cell—I trust you do not have to think hard to imagine he might have issues with prisons after twenty years at Chorh-Gom." He couldn't keep the tart, stilted tone out of his voice. "He would never have truly killed me—it was simply an act to get the guards to cooperate."

 

"A likely story," Xiulan sniffed. "And you still haven't explained how Tai Lung could be innocent when I saw him kill my husband."

 

That was indeed quite the sticking point…but even if he knew, precisely, how Heian Chao could have obscured her sight or altered the image of one of the sisters to match his son's, he still could not explain the _chi_ wizard's existence or powers to the Valley. So instead he evaded. "There are…ways you could have been fooled or misled. But tell me: I hear that fur was found at the scene of the crime, around Zhuang's body. Could we, please, examine it? Mei Ling has experience with this sort of thing, and if we can prove one way or the other who it belongs to, we could save everyone a great deal of time."

 

Xiulan sneered openly at him, and Fu Xiao, who had been impatiently drumming his fingers on the tablecloth, looked no less withering, but with a curt wave of his hand he allowed one of his officials to come forward with the pouch of snow leopard fur. Shifu took a deep breath and held it as Mei Ling reached in, plucked out the silvery-gray hairs, and inhaled them for a strong sniff.

 

But after several moments, the mountain cat couldn't hide the distress and denial on her face at what she had discovered. Swallowing hard, she had to try several times before she could speak at all, let alone loudly enough to be heard. "It…it is Tai Lung's fur."

 

" _What_?" Shifu burst out.

 

Even as the entire court was buzzing with the news, Mei Ling gave the panda an apologetic look before continuing, somewhat lamely. "I do smell other scents on it, though. Both that of Chun and her elder sister, Xiu. I don't smell Zhuang…but I'm afraid I don't know his scent well enough to be sure it isn't there."

 

Xiulan turned and speared Shifu with a look of wild, surging triumph. Flabbergasted and traumatized—he'd been so _sure_ the Wu Sisters had framed his son with their own fur, or some other leopard's—he finally spluttered, "That…that proves nothing! He sparred with them in Yunxian, they could have obtained fur from him at any point during that fight…" Even to himself, the excuse sounded weak and pitiful, however true it likely was.

 

The magistrate seemed to be of the same opinion, as after a few moments of pounding his gavel for silence again, the ram turned and eyed him sardonically. "It proves he was there in Ping's noodle shop the night in question. Unless you can provide an alibi, or a reason he might have been there…"

 

Shifu could not; for while he knew the snow leopard had been in the village and why, telling them that would accomplish nothing. At this point, his son's privacy and shame mattered little, but since Tai Lung had gone to fetch birth control herbs and thus would have been nowhere near Ping's restaurant, or had a reason to make a side trip there, he could not explain this.

 

"Very well." Fu slammed the gavel again, then sat down to write a few notes on his scroll. "The prisoner was on the premises at the time of the murder, in the company of assassins known to be interested in his service, and without an alibi." He turned and glared harshly at Tai Lung. "That just leaves a motive, which is terribly easy to come by. Tai Lung, do you deny that you know this woman?"

 

"No," the snow leopard growled, clearly put out at the obvious question.

 

"Or that you murdered her husband Dishi twenty years ago?"

 

A brief pause, and when he spoke again it was softly, painfully. "No."

 

"Then tell us, why did you decide to kill her second husband? Was one not enough for you? Did you want her to be a lonely, suffering widow all her life? Were you taking out your anger at Wei Chang on his replacement foreman? Or did you want to take Shen Yi for your own and needed to get her father out of the way first?"

 

Tai Lung's jaw dropped open and worked soundlessly for several moments, and Shifu didn't blame him—how could he possibly answer a series of such leading questions? "I…no, I didn't…how could you think…I couldn't possibly…"

 

Fu Xiao eyed him closely, then turned and nodded firmly to one of the guards. "Let the record show the prisoner is being evasive, and persists in declaring his innocence. Chastise him."

 

" ** _No!_** " But Shifu's objecting shout was drowned out by the roar of approval from the crowd, with Xiulan's excited, fiercely fervent cry the loudest of all. Even as he struggled forward to intervene but was held back by a soldier, the other guards moved to the wooden posts holding Tai Lung—and as one of them turned a hidden crank to stretch the snow leopard's arms even farther apart, the others hoisted their clubs and began to liberally, mercilessly, eagerly beat his back and shoulders.

 

As Tai Lung's agonized screams rent the air and echoed up to the tiled rooftops, the red panda clutched Oogway's staff helplessly, screaming himself for clemency, understanding, a single chance for reason and logic to win out over this flimsy, circumstantial evidence. But as he did so, he suddenly discovered why no one seemed willing to listen, what his premonition from Oogway had meant, as well as why all of them—but Tai Lung most of all—were in even more danger than they had been at Chorh-Gom.

 

For when his hands squeezed the ancient peach wood, the entire staff suddenly seemed to glow with a radiant, golden light…and in its halo, he saw what he could not before. Every single person in the crowd…Fu Xiao…the guards…Xiulan…and even Tai Lung himself…were surrounded by flickering, swirling, writhing shadows. Just as Vachir and the Anvil of Heaven had been. Auras of darkness and corruption that seemed to seethe, shimmer, and envelop their hosts all the more tightly and thoroughly with every scream, every strike of the clubs, every joyous cheer and insulting jeer hurled into the sun-warmed courtyard. Fear blasted through Shifu, practically immobilizing him with its overpowering strength.

_Ti'en help us, and Shang Ti have mercy on us. What has Chao done? And how can we ever stop him now…?_

                                                                       

* * *

 

Slithering and darting with lightning speed through the whispering grass blades, Viper couldn't help smiling grimly to herself as she evaded Wu Chun's every attack with consummate ease. If she didn't know better, she would think that either the snow leopardess was nowhere near master level, certainly not as well trained as she was…or the assassin wasn't truly trying to defeat her. But why would that be?

 

No, while it might be overconfident and rather arrogant of her to believe so, it seemed more likely that the Jade Palace regimen was simply that much more rigorous, versatile, and comprehensive than that of Li Dai. The fact this might entirely be owed to Shifu's slave-driver tendencies and absolutely grueling training courses in the kwoon was something she found ironic, and not altogether reassuring.

_So, the only reason I'm winning is because Master Shifu is a cruel and unforgiving teacher? Who'd have thought that would ever come in handy…_

 

One of Chun's fire wheels thrust downward, its sharpened metal edge almost slicing into her scales, and the serpent swiftly tore her thoughts away from introspection and focused on the battle once again. Narrowing her eyes, Viper dodged deftly to the side, winding and angling in sudden and unexpected zigzags, exactly as if she were practicing atop the Field of Fiery Death, and the technique worked just as well here. First one fire wheel, then the other, buried itself in the soil where she had just been, and before Chun could wrench them free, Viper brought her triangular head up to slam hard into the Wu Sister's chin.

 

She felt as well as heard the teeth clack together as her opponent was hurled backwards, and just like that she was free to wriggle around and then behind Chun, her stiffened tail then quite able to smack with stinging force into the backs of the snow leopardess's thighs. Another sharp jab, this one striking the killer right in the small of the back, sent her sprawling forward on her face—and instantly Viper had disappeared into the greensward, which camouflaged her perfectly.

 

Behind her, she heard Chun curse in futility, then begin to dart and leap after her, beating and swinging at the blades to find her hiding place. Again, she smirked. _Might as well live up to the stereotype_.

 

As she continued to lead the middle sister on a merry chase across Wu Dan's plains, the serpent made sure to elevate her head every now and then—not only to gauge her pursuer's progress, but to see how her companions were faring against the other sisters. What she saw on the other side of the wall of water when it fell flat and poured off the edge of the rocky shelf startled and amazed her, as well as made her inordinately proud…for Po was proving, consistently and skillfully, that he had learned his lessons well and was even able to incorporate them into his natural, unorthodox methods of fighting.

 

The kick to Xiu's breastbone, it seemed, had struck its target, since when she glanced in that direction, Viper saw the eldest sister just getting up from the ground with a paw clutched to her chest, rubbing where it had most likely been severely bruised. But Po wasn't allowing her to recover. Taking advantage of her inattention and pain, the panda put on a burst of speed and ran toward her again, and at the last moment performed a backflip that left him inverted atop his paws—and instantly, he whirled his entire body three hundred and sixty degrees, both his feet pummeling and battering Xiu's face and knocking her backwards yet again.

 

Screaming all manner of vile imprecations Viper couldn't distinguish at this distance, the Wu Sister managed to turn her fall into a dive, twisting about in a gymnastic gyration atop her paws that let her bring her own feet about and locked together. The heels of her boots struck Po a glancing blow across the head, hurling him sideways, but even as he landed and rolled across the ground, he instinctively brought up one fist to punch Xiu in the gut as she leaned over him.

 

By the time she'd recovered, he was back on his feet and lifting both paws in a gesture Viper recognized—not Dragon Fists or Tiger Fists, but the slightly different finger-curls which Tai Lung had employed against the Five at the Thread of Hope, and later on repeatedly while training in the kwoon.

 

Xiu seemed to recognize them too, as she snarled viciously and spat out another curse. " _He's_ been teaching you, has he? You would dare use _his_ technique against us?"

 

"Why not?" the Dragon Warrior retorted. "He's the best kung fu warrior ever—and he sure did wipe the ground with you before!" And he struck out, one-two, putting all the strength of his not-inconsiderable muscles behind the blows. Only through an insanely rapid reaction time was the assassin able to bring her fire wheels up in time to block him—and to Viper's surprise, Po didn't wince or even slow down when his knuckles struck the polished wood rings.

 

Instead he inverted one paw and brought it about and down to splay his fingers as if he held something gripped between them…and out of nowhere, or more precisely the air around him, water droplets condensed and gathered in seconds, forming a shimmering, rippling, crescent-shaped plane—no, it was a _war fan_ fashioned of water! Grinning fiercely, dangerously, he brandished his new elemental weapon and swung it across Xiu's chest.

 

Apparently the moisture had somehow been mystically hardened, because when it cut across, it actually slashed through the snow leopardess's tunic and left a bloody line streaked through her fur, which itself had also been severed, leaving puffs of silver-gray to float almost serenely down toward the ground.

 

Those hateful blue eyes widened in shock this time, as well as confusion. "What? _How_? Who could have taught you—?"

 

Po smirked. "Mei Ling." And as Xiu let out an infuriated yowl at this new betrayal, the panda swung again and again, slicing the snow leopardess's sides, arms, and shoulders, until she was compelled to lean and leap backwards to avoid the blows. Soon enough, she was bringing her fire wheels into play again, this time to block the water fan, which somehow retained its shape and solidity—except for once in a while, when Po seemed to relax his will, allowing Xiu's paw and weapon to splash right through, so that she lost her balance and stumbled into his waiting Plum Flower Punch.

 

A sudden cry from nearby made Viper jerk her head back to pay attention to her own battle. Chun had abruptly lunged out of the grass with a triumphant sneer on her narrow face, bringing her fire wheel down hard—if its razor's edge managed to connect, Viper would certainly lose some scales, and just might have a segment of her coils lopped off; the Wu Sisters were stronger than they looked.

 

But she had many more tricks up her sleeves (well, if she _had_ any), as she soon demonstrated: darting away like a slippery eel, she sprang from the ground up onto a boulder, from which she vaulted straight toward Chun's face. Jutting her chin proudly, the green-eyed sister inverted her weapon, bringing it up to block the incoming serpent with its flat ring facing outwards—but at the last second, Viper turned in mid-air, aiming her fluid, flexible body _right through the center of the fire wheel._

 

The assassin only had time for one startled gasp before the reptile's head jabbed right into Chun's muzzle. As the rest of her coils caught up with her, she used her momentum to swing and wrap around the leopardess's neck, not only cutting off her air supply but jerking her backwards with the force of inertia. And then she was releasing, flying back over Chun's shoulder and once again disappearing into the vegetation. As she did so, she glanced back with a mocking, fairly vicious laugh. "I'm so _sorry_ , sister. I thought you were _ready_!"

 

Leading the Wu Sister back across the plateau toward the Pool of Sacred Tears once more, Viper soon found herself near the menhir—atop which, Tigress and Jia were still going at it like, well, wild cats. Not that the leader of the Four was being as violent and vengeful as she likely would be against Xiu—Zhuang had been her friend too, after all, not to mention what the insane snow leopardess had in mind for Tai Lung—but she was certainly holding her own against the youngest sister.

 

It was the violet-eyed feline who was on the offensive…and for every blow and kick which Tigress succeeded in blocking or ducking, Jia seemed to have three or four more lined up with which to follow suit. Even from the ground, Viper could see the Wu Sister's small, sharp fangs gritted, see the tears leaking from her eyes as she struggled to batter her rival for the ex-convict's affections senseless with her bare paws; whether because Tigress had evaded it with such ease or because she wanted to do it with her own body, her meteor hammer had been discarded.

 

"It's not… _fair_! You think you're _so_ damned special, don't you? Master of the toughest, baddest, meanest style of kung fu…leader of five, well, four, elite warriors…apple of Shifu's eye…you've got the run of the palace, the whole damn Valley looks up to you, everyone in China thinks you're the greatest." A punch toward the solar plexus, blocked by Tigress's forearm. "The most beautiful." A roundhouse the striped feline dodged, only to toss Jia up over her shoulder in a backflip—but she landed adroitly on her feet and twisted back without missing a beat.

 

"Absolutely, undeniably _perfect_. And you get to have Tai Lung, too? _Why?_ Why can't someone else get to be happy for a change? Why do you get to have everything, while I get nothing?" A series of rapid-fire chops, punches, and kicks that Tigress avoided by weaving about, almost as if she were as agile and pliable as Viper herself.

 

The striped feline actually gave Jia a long, sad, regretful look before leaping to the side, toward the edge of the menhir. Just before she sprang to the ground, she looked back over her shoulder and sighed. "You really don't know me at all, do you? Perfect, happy, fulfilled? Beloved by everyone? That's not me…or if it is, it's just the surface. Look deeper, and you'll find I'm just as lonely and bitter as you, Jia. I'm sorry you didn't get what you wanted. I'm sorry I hurt you—I certainly didn't mean to, I never wanted Tai Lung and I had no idea you did. But now that I have him, I'll be damned if I lose him. I won't stop fighting…so if you truly want more, you'd do better to look elsewhere, and leave me alone—or I can't promise what'll happen to you."

 

And with that, she hurled herself soundlessly to within several feet of the pool's shoreline. Avoiding the disturbing black water lapping out of it, she headed toward the tree where Ping still hung—but of course, Jia followed her with a heartbreaking shriek, driving into the back of her head with one foot, and then both cats were literally rolling across the ground, clawing and biting and slamming each other back and forth into the dirt…

 

From the other side of the pool, Viper saw Xiu and Po closing in again, and while she could see dirt and mud caked in the panda's fur, as well as several painfully deep cuts made by her fire wheel and the fact he clutched occasionally at his side where he must have bruised or cracked a rib, the Wu Sister looked much the worse for wear. Blood had actually soaked the side of her tunic completely through and was trickling down her trousers, as well as from a split lip, she favored one ankle, and her eyes looked even more deranged than usual.

 

Po seemed to have abandoned the water fan—instead he had a coil of water wrapped around his paw and was lashing out with it like a whip. Even as she watched, the stream struck out again, slapping with an audible report across Xiu's throat. Gasping and choking, she clutched at her windpipe while Po glared at her. " _That_ was for Tigress." The water shifted, thickening and growing into a wave as thick as the panda's arm, then repeated the gesture, this time slamming across her diaphragm. The snow leopardess doubled over. "And _that_ was for Zhuang."

 

Despite the agony she must be in after those blows, Xiu managed to evade the incoming sphere of water that was aimed at her head—in fact she pulled a dirty trick, since at the same time she was ducked over, she lunged with one fist and succeeded in landing a solid groin shot on the panda. Po howled in pain, losing his concentration and letting the water fall harmlessly onto the ground as he reached down to clutch at his lower abdomen. For several minutes it seemed as if Xiu had succeeded in turning the tables completely, as she followed up with one kick and punch after another, sending the Dragon Warrior staggering back step after step.

 

But then, as she was about to slam a Tiger Fist into Po's face—with enough force, it looked like, to break his nose—the panda suddenly rallied, and with a speed that seemed impossible brought one paw up to catch her fist just inches away from his muzzle. Staring at her past the meaty, black-furred appendage, he growled softly. "Big mistake." His fingers closed around her paw, squeezing—and suddenly Xiu was screaming, trying to jerk her paw out of his grip.

 

Only when Po relented and allowed her to escape was she able to stagger back, cradling her paw against her chest and glaring at him in pure, molten hate, and Viper's jaw dropped: with his strength, the panda had come that close to crushing every bone in Xiu's paw.

 

Yet even then he didn't seem through with her, as relentless and indefatigable as his teacher Tai Lung was legendary for being—shrugging aside the pain likely still throbbing in his groin, the bear rose to his full height and launched himself forward again. Xiu, unable to defend herself while still nursing her injured paw, could only twist and dance about, occasionally bringing up one foot or tucking her leg in a protective shield against her body.

 

She needed it, too, for Po was proving his bulk no longer hampered his speed—fists blazing, he was beating Xiu within an inch of her life, striking far too quickly for almost any eye to track. Fierce Tiger. Single Sword. Touch Bridge. Venomous Snake. By the time he had latched onto her elbow in an Eagle Claw joint-lock, Viper almost, _almost_ felt sorry for the eldest Wu Sister—she had to be black and blue from head to foot, so that being caught and trapped that way had to be a blessing in comparison. Thinking back to that first day in the training hall, she had to marvel: _I guess he really **can** make someone 'feel the thunder'…_

 

Somewhere behind her, she suddenly heard a ghost of a sound, the faint swish of clothing brushing against the grass blades, and she turned—almost but not quite in time. Smirking harshly, Chun stood over her, having managed to approach with the stealth and silence of the ninja…and so her boot now stood upon Viper's tail, pinning her in place. "It may take me a while," the Wu Sister observed offhandedly, "but I always get what I want. Especially my prey."

 

Remaining perfectly still—not out of fear, but to fool her adversary and give the impression she actually was paralyzed—Viper flicked her gaze past Chun to the other combatants. Xiu had somehow broken free of Po and was now menacing him with her dagger in her good paw, the other still hanging uselessly along her bloody side, and while the panda seemed capable of defending himself to judge by how his arms and wrists continually caught the weapon by the flat of the blade, it was only a matter of time before she got in a lucky stab. Tigress and Jia were on their feet now, endlessly circling and rotating around each other, paws held up in mirroring Tiger Fists, standing between her and Po. It was now or never.

 

Narrowing her eyes, the serpent tasted the air with her tongue while displaying a delicious amount of fang, then shook her head slowly, patronizingly. "You've never fought a snake before, have you?" Without any warning, Viper stiffened her tail and flexed every powerful muscle in her long body.

 

Chun only had a moment to realize her error before the 'helpless' tail beneath her boot suddenly jerked and twitched upward. Flung off her feet, the spotted cat was thrown back and to the side, hurled directly in the path of her sister and Tigress—and ever the opportunist, the striped cat latched onto the back of Chun's tunic and thrust her right into Jia. There was a loud smack of flesh, fur, and bone slamming together, and both assassins were in turn knocked across the rolling hillside to land in a tangle of arms and legs behind the Dragon Warrior.

 

"Po!" Viper called. "Tung Shao Pass!"

 

The black-and-white bear jerked his head, stared at her—and then nodded firmly, his face lighting up with understanding. One of the most famous stories of the Furious Five, one a true kung fu enthusiast such as he couldn't possibly have missed. An occasion where they had won the day by abruptly switching opponents in the middle of combat, forcing them to change tactics, adjust their thinking to an entirely different kung fu style and warrior's mind. It had worked with flying colors that day, why not again?

 

Even as Jia and Chun were springing back to their feet and splitting up to head back for their respective adversaries, the Dragon Warrior made his move. Ducking down and aided by his low center of gravity, the panda brought one leg up and about in a flawless roundhouse, with all the force of his strength and weight behind it. It caught Xiu in the side of the head, sending her staggering until she had to lean heavily against a tree to even stay upright…and continuing the same move, Po tucked his shoulders and rolled in a somersault, flipped several times across the grass, then leaped ten feet off the ground. As he came down, he struck out in a full split, and each of his feet struck Chun and Jia in the back of the head, sending them flying in opposite directions.

 

By the time both of the sisters had gotten to their feet yet again and recovered their wits, the entire arrangement of the battle had changed. The violet-eyed assassin, expecting to be facing her competition for Tai Lung, instead had to blink, furrow her brow, and back away warily from Po; the disdainful and aloof Chun was left standing slim and still before Tigress; and Viper had slithered forward in a streak of green and yellow to intercept Xiu where she had finally found a second wind and had been leaping adroitly toward the Dragon Warrior's unprotected back. _Perfect. Much easier to take them out this way…_

 

Darting between the blue-eyed sister's legs just as she brought her dagger down to try and spear her to the ground, Viper angled her tail up and back as she passed, striking Xiu hard in the kidneys. Letting out a strangled cry, she collapsed on her knees—and instantly the serpent followed through on her strike, twisting back and leaping atop the snow leopardess's shoulders. In a blur of speed, she had her coils wrapped around Xiu's throat, crushing hard across her already sore trachea…and then she lunged around to bring her face inches away from the Wu Sister's. She was quite satisfied to see those cold blue eyes widen, fear taking up residence in them as she was suddenly presented with an up-close view of Viper's gleaming, saliva-dripping fangs.

 

Hissing menacingly, the serpent spoke low and threatening. "After all you've done, I should bite you right now, have it all be over and done with. But that wouldn't be honorable, and it wouldn't let us bring you to justice. So I'm just going to hold you here until your sisters are taken care of—make one wrong move, and I might just let these fangs…slip."

 

Of course, if Xiu was particularly well-versed in the lore of the Furious Five, and knew the story of Grand Master Viper, she would know that Viper was born fangless and therefore believe her to now have no venom. Her venom reserves had, in fact, been milked recently for Mantis and the Valley doctor. _But Xiu doesn't know that. Isn't psychological warfare fun?_

 

Unfortunately, it seemed Xiu _was_ more knowledgeable than she'd given her credit for, since after a moment she only smirked lopsidedly and regarded Viper cockily. "A bold move, Mistress Viper. Too bad I happen to know you can't do a thing to me—you're famous all over China for being the most harmless of deadly serpents, you know."

 

Viper exposed even more of her fangs until Xiu swallowed hard. "Would you like to place bets on that one? I can assure you I am _far_ from harmless, even if I do lack venom…which you can't really be sure of, now can you? Do you _really_ dare?" And she smiled wickedly.

 

As she felt the assassin stiffen in her grip, she felt safe enough at last to look away and check the progress of the others, for somehow she found it easier to watch their battles than her own—and she was pleased to see that the new strategy seemed to have gone off like clockwork.

 

Chun, having adapted to an opponent who was quick but not quite as evasive as a serpent, now stood not far from the pool (but also just out of reach of the dark _chi_ ) almost like a statue, save for the single paw that reached inside of her tunic to pluck out a series of throwing knives and shuriken, which she then brandished between her fingers before hurling them with unerring accuracy at Tigress. The striped feline wasn't able to avoid them all, so that she too soon had crimson fluid matting her fur along her sides as well as down one thigh, but the otherwise quicksilver way she dodged the gleaming metal so that a line of blades quivered and embedded itself in the tree trunks behind her was nevertheless impressive.

 

Meanwhile, the acrobatic leaps, flips, and tuck-and-rolls Po was using to escape being slashed by Jia's war fan were only equaled by the Wu Sister's own cartwheels, handsprings, and sinuous twists to keep from being struck by the panda's renewed waves of water. Even when the Dragon Warrior wasn't drawing upon his _chi_ , the clever and inventive ways he used to always stay just out of reach—a combination of Mei Ling and Tai Lung's instruction, unless she was completely misinterpreting what she saw—rather made the bear and snow leopardess seem to be indulging in an exhibition for the Imperial court than a serious kung fu battle.

 

As Po leaned back away from Jia, and the assassin in turn lunged forward until she hung just inches away from his furry white chest—and her fan blades were barest centimeters from his face—the Wu Sister seemed to realize this too, as she grinned winsomely at her opponent. "Wow, it's almost like we're dancing!"

 

In spite of himself, the panda grinned back at her. "Almost. Did ya wanna go for th' real thing? I can do a mean _gutai_."

 

Jia paused, actually placed one paw on her hip, and fluttered her fan in front of her face before raising an eyebrow. "Not my kinda dance, hotshot. And anyway, do I _look_ like a dancer to you?"

 

"Depends on what kinda dancer," Po quipped dryly.

 

The Wu Sister pretended to look offended. "Are you calling me a _xi sang_?"

 

He winked. "If the slipper fits."

 

A very strange expression crossed her pixie-like face, a mixture of resentment, embarrassment, and pleasure—the latter, Viper supposed, because Jia's lustful nature made her feel such a position in society was both fitting and desirable, she appreciated Po using the more polite term and thus suggesting he held her in some esteem…or because she knew that serving as such a high-class type of lover was actually a mark of respect and often the only way some women could achieve riches and honor.

 

Of course, that didn't stop her from continuing the playful bantering, as with another coquettish flutter of her fan, the snow leopardess smiled and said, "Aww, how sweet. You really are quite a gem, you know? In fact, if you were maybe, I don't know, a hundred pounds lighter, you'd be pretty good-looking, too."

 

For a moment the panda's face lit up. "Thanks—hey!" Just like that, he was glowering at her, while Jia gave a tinkling little laugh.

 

"I know, that was below the belt. Hey, to make it up to you, why don't we do that little dance after all?" She twirled about prettily on one foot, then landed in a crouch, knees bent and ready to spring into action as she flourished her fan, each blade gleaming and sobering in the afternoon sunlight.

 

Po's face was inscrutable. When he finally spoke again, his tone was still light and casual—but Viper could instantly tell something had shifted, even before she saw him lean his weight back on one foot and tuck the other up for a thrust-kick. "Sure thing. Lemme just get my sword, an' I'll be ready as I'll ever be."

 

There was a pause, the air of the meadow quite still and silent, save for the _thunk_ of darts into tree bark, panting breaths, and the slight gagging sounds Xiu continued to make as she struggled (unobtrusively, the assassin most likely believed) to free herself of Viper's coils. Then the mischievous twinkle left Jia's eyes, her face fell, and she actually looked disappointed—as well as openly worried. It was clear she'd probably interpreted the double-meaning in Po's reference to "sword dancing". "Hey…hey now, don't be like that, big guy. You…you know I really don't want to hurt you."

 

He snorted. "An' what about Tigress?"

 

She flinched, and had the grace to flush. "Okay, okay…I hate her guts, but if it means that much to you, I'll stop. For now." Raising her voice from the mutter of those last two words, she continued her appeal. "But I never meant you any harm, never. Especially not now. Not with…what I know about you. I'm just…I'm doing what I have to do."

 

"So am I," said the panda quietly, but sternly.

 

This seemed to discommode Jia even more, as she took a step backwards and brandished her fan again. Viper noticed it quivered slightly in her paw. "You don't understand. I…I've got to keep you from interfering with Chao's plans, or…you have no idea what would happen. But, but if you surrender, we can sit down and I can tell you all about your parents. I promise, and my word's good, not like Xiu's." Her violet eyes went flat and hard for a moment before clearing, becoming faintly desperate. "I mean it…no hard feelings?"

 

Again, all was quiet for a few moments. Slowly, Po lowered his leg, planting both feet solidly in a Dragon stance, but otherwise making no threatening moves. Jia stared at him, apparently holding her breath, a hopeful look on her elfin face. He took a few steps closer, stopping when he was less than an arm's span away, one paw even extended in what seemed a friendly, welcoming gesture.

 

But just before Jia looked as if she were about to take it, and her fan had begun to lower toward her waist, the Dragon Warrior lifted his other paw—and Viper saw that its fingers were once again curled in Tai Lung's signature move, this time with one digit folded a knuckle higher than the rest. When he spoke, it was very soft, regretful, and even sad.

 

"No hard feelings." With lightning speed, his paw darted forward, striking unerringly at Jia's shoulder.

 

A golden ripple of light suddenly burst out from his finger, shimmering down through the snow leopardess's fur and making it rise then fall again, as if buffeted by an unseen wind or filled with static electricity. A startled look crossed the assassin's face, followed by anger, pain, and shame—and then the fan fell from her slack, limp paw as that entire arm went numb thanks to the nerve strike Po had applied.

 

In quick and rapid succession, the panda stabbed out twice, four, five times—hitting her other shoulder, each hip, and twice in the chest. Again the golden _chi_ washed over her, and then with a soft whimper, Jia slowly collapsed on the ground, every joint frozen and paralyzed, just as had happened to the Furious Five at the Thread of Hope.

 

As Po stood over the Wu Sister's prone form, his shoulders slumped in resignation, the plateau was silent again—completely so, this time. Hurriedly whipping her head about, Viper saw that Chun had paused where she stood, one paw drawn back to fling a shuriken toward Tigress where she half-crouched alongside a fallen log.

 

Her green eyes were fixed on Jia's toppled body, anguish and fury and despair rising deep within—so much emotion, especially compared to what she usually displayed, that she almost seemed likely to drown in them. She turned away from the striped feline, started to move in Po's direction…and then she spied Xiu, her throat still encircled by Viper's coils while she knelt on the ground.

 

Something seemed to let go inside the middle sister, and as her lips drew back to expose her fangs in a rictus of hate, she abruptly sprang forward off one foot, almost seeming to fly through the air as she drove herself straight at the bound form of Xiu, arms flung back behind her to further enhance and streamline her leap across the clearing. "Let her _go_ , **_NOW!_** "

 

And with that unexpected command, all hell suddenly seemed to break loose.

 

One of Chun's paws ducked back into her tunic, then swiftly darted out again and flung itself sideways. Four—no, five throwing knives flew in a precise formation toward Po, and even as he rushed to intercept the Wu Sister, the blades caught his shirt collar and sleeves with exquisite skill, carrying the panda backwards and pinning him helplessly to another tree trunk.

 

At the same time, Xiu, who it seemed had not been as idle as she appeared, yanked her slender paws up from a pouch at her waist and, held half a foot apart, jerked them back against Viper's coil. Extended between them was the nearly invisible, but painfully sharp garrote Xiu had used to slit Po's throat in Yunxian. Even though the serpent's scales mostly protected her, such was the honed quality of the filament wire that it still bit terribly deep into her flesh.

 

Letting out a shriek, Viper instinctively recoiled, loosening the grip of her body around Xiu's neck—and as if she'd suddenly gone boneless, the snow leopard wriggled downward with greased speed, escaping her grip as effortlessly as if it were merely a training exercise.

 

She leaped toward the now mostly-helpless figure of Po, only to be slammed into bodily by Tigress appearing in a streak of black and umber from the side—and as both felines took up where the leader of the Four and Jia had left off, snarling and growling viciously as they rolled across the ground in a flurry of punching paws and kicking feet, Chun managed to stab downwards with a pair of sai, interlocking the hilts so that they formed a triangular wedge to trap Viper in place. "Let's see you get out of _that_ one!" she snapped, and then her paws were literally around the serpent's throat…

 

She wasn't as helpless as she seemed, though, thanks to being highly trained and simply more adroit than Chun believed. Once again flexing every muscle in her tattooed body, Viper went rigid all the way to the tip of her tail, then swung it sharply upward using the sai as a stabilizer. The force of the motion snapped Chun's head back, spilling her ignominiously on her backside, and also ripped the bladed weapons free of the soil. Instantly Viper darted up and across, wrapping her coils around the middle sister's torso and squeezing her ribs _tightly_.

 

"You…" Those green eyes narrowed to slits as she gasped and struggled against the crushing pressure. "You _cheater_. I thought…you were…honorable…"

 

Her temper blazing ever higher, Viper shoved her opponent back across the ground until she fetched up against another outcropping. "You _dare_ talk to me about cheating, about honor? When you stooped to kidnapping an innocent man just to get Po to do what you want? When you work for someone like Heian Chao? When you kill people, all the time, every day, just because someone pays you and not because they deserve it or wronged you? When it was your cheating hammer that almost smashed Tigress's _head_ in?"

 

She caught herself as she realized that not only was her rage getting the better of her, but she had constricted Chun so tightly the woman was almost unconscious, her face had begun to darken with trapped blood, and at least one rib had given way. No. No, this was _wrong_. No matter what the Wu Sisters had done, she could not kill them. If she did, she would be no better than them.

 

They had to live, they had to be brought forward to face the Emperor's law. All life, even that of these disreputable, repugnant assassins, was sacred and precious…that was what Oogway, and her mother before him, had taught her. Although she had taken lives in battle before, that was only when she had no choice, when it was in self-defense or to protect the innocent. Not like this, not in cold blood.

 

Not the way, she was certain, Heian Chao wanted her to.

 

Taking a deep breath (and relaxing her coils slightly as she did so, so as not to crush Chun any further), Viper waited until she felt calm enough to speak again, then looked her prey square in the eye. Although she managed to keep from hissing venomously this time, she nevertheless still showed more than a little fang as she spoke. "I spare your life because I _am_ honorable, because it is the right thing to do. But don't push me any further, or you will find out how it feels for a serpent to spit in your face. It won't kill you, but I promise you it _will_ blind you for a while."

 

To her credit, Chun was certainly no coward, though her wisdom in this situation might be questionable—for after blinking soberly at her captor, the snow leopardess at once began struggling to break free again, twisting and rolling back and forth across the ground and doing her level best to work an arm free so she could attack Viper with one of her weapons.

 

Sighing, the serpent held on as tightly as she could without further harming her, accepting with equanimity the bruising thuds whenever the snow leopardess brought her full weight down on her coils, but otherwise letting her writhe herself into exhaustion. At least it kept her out of the fight…and allowed Viper to watch what was happening nearby…

 

In point of fact, the serpent couldn't tear her eyes away, and was soon wincing quite openly. Although Xiu had gotten hold of her fire wheel again and was attempting to bring it into play, for the most part she and Tigress were still resorting to fists and feet to knock each other senseless. Rolling back away from the Wu Sister, the striped feline got her feet under her and swept out with one leg, knocking Xiu flying—but the snow leopardess threw herself backwards and up, inverting in a perfect 'T' high above the grassy field.

 

She brought her feet together and down to slam into Tigress's chest; of course, the other feline had plenty of time to see the attack coming and dodge it, but Xiu landed solidly where she had been standing and whirled about instead, pivoting on one foot to kick the leader of the Four hard in the rump. Snarling, Tigress caught herself before falling on her face with the aid of her lashing tail, then turned back and slammed her fist just as hard into Xiu's chin.

 

This led into an increasingly violent, incredibly nasty exchange of body blows, with the Wu Sister only barely managing to catch a few of the incoming shots with her fire wheel or her forearm but the majority of them rocking her head back, flinging her shoulder away, or doubling her over. Yet Xiu gave as good as she got, so that soon both of the females had blood coursing down their chins and dark, throbbing bulges beneath their fur where bruises and welts were swelling ever larger.

 

Gritting her teeth hatefully, Tigress shoved Xiu back into the same boulder she'd earlier lounged upon, pressing her against the rock as she held down both the assassin's wrists. " _This_ is a rematch I've been waiting for…"

 

"That makes two of us." Xiu paused, then smirked guilefully up at her, blue eyes wide and disingenuous. "But…shouldn't you be worrying about your spotted stud instead of, ah, discussing ways and means with yours truly?"

 

Tigress glared, baring her fangs right in the Wu Sister's face as her chest heaved furiously. "Oh don't worry, I'll be seeing him again soon enough. And when I do, I'll have a little trophy for him!" She breathed hotly, suggestively, over Xiu's neck fur, as if she intended to bite right through the assassin's jugular and sever her head from her body. "Won't he be _happy_ to see that?"

 

"You don't have the nerve!" Xiu laughed heartlessly, then winked sidelong. "You aren't a real killer, not like I am. You wouldn't dare."

 

" _Try_ me!" Suddenly, something about the assassin's taunts seemed to register with her, for her feral snarl faded into a befuddled look—and then suspicion. "Wait a minute—what do you mean, 'I should be worrying about Tai Lung'? What's going on? What do you know that I don't?"

 

Xiu's suggestive grin was positively manic as well as cruel. "Oh, that could fill whole mountains of scrolls, Master Tigress. Are you sure you have the time to hear it?"

 

How Tigress refrained from smashing her face in, Viper would never fathom. In fact, she managed to get in a good rejoinder of her own. "I don't know, do _you_? You're the old woman here, after all."

 

Those cold blue eyes glittered fiercely, hatefully; even from this distance, Viper could see the gleam beneath her shadowed brows. What disturbed her was how they were almost identical at this moment to Tigress's, save for their hue. "Fine. You really want to know? He's gone off the deep end again. Completely flipped. Round the bend, off a cliff, no turning back." She seemed to linger over every word and syllable, relishing their texture and flavor.

 

"Chao finally got what he wanted, got under that thick, beautiful pelt of his and turned him back into the monster that made him so strong. And he helped us kill Zhuang. Everyone knows it. His own wife saw it!" Xiu smiled. "By the time you get back to the village, it'll be too late. He'll either belong to the mage, and will have already begun a new rampage far worse than the old…or those superstitious townsfolk will have killed him, in which case he'll _still_ be Chao's. If you're lucky, you might get to have some of his fur as a souvenir…or you might get the honor of being his next victim. True love, indeed."

 

Viper inhaled sharply, felt Chun struggle more wildly, and had to relax to keep the woman alive again. No. No, it _couldn't_ be!

 

Her friend and leader seemed to be of the same opinion. Wrenching Xiu up off the boulder and shaking her by her tunic, she snarled, "I don't believe you. You'd say _anything_ to distract me so you can win. Or to get me to turn on him, so he really will fall into darkness again. I'm not listening to you."

 

"As always, believe whatever delusions you wish." Xiu shook her head, a rather unconvincing look of sympathy on her face. "But you know…you _really_ should have left me alone, and gone back—while you had the chance!"

 

Her feet came up and struck powerfully at Tigress in a one-two blow—the first knocking into the feline's chin, the second slamming right into her breastbone and hurling her off. And before the leader of the Four could even recover, Xiu was leaping after her, brandishing her fire wheel. The striped feline landed flat on her back, but succeeded in getting a paw up in time to slash at the assassin's weapon with claws unsheathed. Her aim was true, and the wheel was at once ripped from the Wu Sister's grasp, flying off to the side until its now deeply-scratched wooden frame disappeared over the edge of Wu Dan's cliff.

 

Watching this in rising fury, Xiu seemed to go into a berserker rage, her own claws lashing out to embed themselves again and again in her opponent, ripping and tearing. Most of the blows, Viper thought, only lodged themselves in Tigress's vest and trousers…but she couldn't be sure. Tigress returned every blow with one in kind, similarly shredding Xiu's apparel and, hopefully, flesh—but just as frequent were the uppercuts, belly punches, and knee hooks each of them employed.

 

Just when it seemed Tigress would triumph, Xiu succeeded in a scissors-kick that sent her sprawling. Just when the assassin appeared poised to make another kill, both of the kung fu warrior's feet caught her in the face, only adding to the rich stream of red pouring from her nose.

 

And then, as the striped feline sinuously twisted her arms behind her, did a handspring to flip herself back upright again, and rushed body-to-body with the Wu Sister once more, she executed a flawless combo of Tiger Fist and sweep-kick: as the former slammed into Xiu's torso and bent her backwards, the latter caught her already precarious body right behind the calves and finished the topple. With a strangled cry, Xiu slammed back into the ground, hard, cracking her head in the process on a hollow log.

 

Standing over her, breathing rapidly, the striped feline held both her paws ready to attack again—and indeed, somehow, by some well of strength and determination and sheer, unmitigated stubbornness, the eldest sister was struggling back to her feet again. Viper personally thought a strong wind, or even a puff of air from Tigress, might knock her over, but apparently her friend wasn't taking any chances. She grabbed onto Xiu's tunic, jerked her forward, one paw drawn back to deliver the final blow that would knock her out—and then she smiled, slow and almost sinister, as she gazed at something behind the assassin.

 

"You know," she said, almost conversationally, "you really are quite sloppy, Xiu. Making so many mistakes—it's not like you. Have you been cutting corners, forgetting your own lessons? Or…did I overestimate you, you were never that good to begin with, and what happened before was a fluke?" Viper knew, of course, that Tigress would likely have had a much more difficult time of it—perhaps would even have lost again—if Po hadn't already done such a number on Xiu. But she was hardly going to correct this impression…seeing Tigress lord this over Xiu was quite delicious indeed.

 

"What…what do you mean?" The Wu Sister sneered, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her paw, trying to focus her glazed eyes. "I…I've thought of everything. This…this is just a setback, I'll make you pay for this, you wait and see!"

 

The leader of the Four shook her head almost in pity. "No, I don't think you will. Because you forgot the first and most important lesson of kung fu…" She nodded her head behind Xiu. " _Always_ pay attention to your surroundings."

 

Xiu turned…and gasped, her jaw dropping, as she saw that Po was gone. Only his shirt remained, torn free and still pinned to the tree.

 

Before anyone could blink, a massive, black-and-white form suddenly swung down from above, hanging from the largest limb of the tree which extended out over the battlefield. With an ease that made it seem he lacked half his true weight, the Dragon Warrior flipped several times around the limb, then vaulted clear and landed right behind Xiu—his paw striking out yet again to stab her right in the small of the back.

 

Flailing wildly as her legs twitched, jerked, and suddenly went limp, the assassin collapsed on the ground, her lower half completely immobilized. Hissing and growling, she dug her claws into the earth and tried to drag herself, ineffectually and looking rather pathetic, across the ground toward the one who had defeated her. " _You!_ Damn you! I should have…killed you when I had the chance! I should have taken care of you…back in Yunxian!"

 

"Should've, could've, but didn't," Po observed smugly. He struck again, this time hitting her in the elbow with another golden flash.

 

"No! _No! **NOOO!**_ " Screaming like a wild beast, still lurching along with the aid of her one good paw, she lunged desperately, half-heartedly, at the panda—her upturned face a riot of tempestuous, violent emotions, tears of rage, despair, and anguish streaming down her cheeks. "This _cannot_ be happening! I will _not_ accept it! You…cannot…defeat me! You're just a big… _fat_ … ** _PANDA!_** "

 

It was Tigress, standing over her and looking down in mingled disgust, discomfort, and the barest drop of empathy, who replied, her voice almost detached and clinical. But she had a small, if grim, smile on her face as she exchanged a look with Po. "No. He's _the_ big fat panda."

 

Po struck one final time, and with a final ripple of light and an almost childlike wail, Wu Xiu collapsed utterly, her entire body numb from the neck down, her face buried, weeping and sobbing, in the grass.

 

Seeing this, and galvanized at the utter humiliation dealt to the most heartless and evil of the Wu Sisters, Viper swung her head back to stare down, hard and determined, at Chun. "Well? That's two down. Are you ready to admit the truth and quit while you're ahead?"

 

For answer, the middle sister succeeded at last in yanking one paw free of her coils and lashed out at her with her dagger. But the serpent was expecting this, and even as she sighed dramatically, she caught hold of Chun's wrist with her tail. Squeezing to make the woman drop her weapon, Viper then braced herself and yanked hard in the opposite direction, jerking Chun's clenched paw back so that, as with Tai Lung on the Thread of Hope, she hit herself in the face. Again and again she did this, until Chun rocked back and forth like a rag doll, and as she did so, the serpent couldn't help but get a little smug herself. "Quit hitting yourself!"

 

At last, woozy and decidedly bruised, the snow leopardess went limp and collapsed back in Viper's coils—and in a dissonant contrast to her previous violence, she almost tenderly allowed the woman to slump down on the ground. Only a faint groan answered her, but she still slithered off Chun to approach the others with a satisfied air. Yet both Po and Tigress, she saw, were staring at her very oddly, whether for her behavior or her choice of words. A bit miffed, but allowing that her attitude must have seemed rather unexpected, the serpent regarded them apologetically but also with a touch of aspersion.

 

"What? I've _always_ wanted to say that! But Master Shifu would never let me."

 

Tigress made a great show of looking around the deserted field, empty save for the three groaning, unconscious, or only barely stirring spotted cats. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and said, with exaggerated care, "Master Shifu isn't here. And we're not going to tell him anything. Are we, panda?"

 

Po twiddled his fingers together and adopted an artfully innocent look. "Tell who what?"

 

"Good boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The large number of shout-outs or direct quotes from the movie in this chapter should be self-explanatory. With the genre shift and massive character development I've been undertaking, I felt my fic needed some more grounding in its source material again. That, and finding ways to use old scenes and lines in new ways was a heck of a lot of fun! :) What I will note is that Xiulan's off-the-cuff description of Ping as having a little head that can only hold noodles is a shout-out to a comment Jennifer Yuh Nelson made about him in _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ ; Xiu's line "Isn't it a pity we live in such skeptical times?" is swiped from Eris in _Sinbad_ (why not? It was made by Dream Works too, and she'd love to be compared to a goddess of chaos); and while it was not meant to be a direct reference, I did get the idea for Viper mentioning Tung Shao Pass from _Mulan_.
> 
> Other notes: a _xi sang_ is a courtesan of fairly high status and luxury, while a _gutai_ is a peasant dance; and the appearance of lines from Avatar coming out of the mouths of Xiu and Jia should not surprise you in the least (have fun catching them all! And this won't be the end of them either).


	37. Through a Glass Darkly

 

By the time he reached the rear door of Ping's noodle shop, it was only an hour or so after noon, but Crane was afraid that was already too much time lost—time which could have been spent defending Tai Lung, testifying as to his own personal knowledge of the Wu Sisters, or searching the scrolls for some evidence of Heian Chao's existence. In fact the waterfowl had begun very strongly to regret not flying to Wu Dan to tell the others of what was occurring—not only could Po and Tigress be extremely useful in standing up for the snow leopard, but if Zhuang had died in his kitchen, surely Mr. Ping, too, could testify on Tai Lung's behalf?

 

It was too late for such second-guessing and self-recrimination now, though; what was done, was done, his choice had been made and could not be unmade, and wasting time bemoaning the mistakes of the past would surely guarantee his failure in the future. The goose was not here, and neither were the Dragon Warrior or the leader of the Four; there was only him. Not that he doubted Mei Ling's skills or Shifu's determination to save his son, but they didn't know what he'd learned from Yi, nor had either of them bothered to check for any further clues and evidence. He had no way of knowing if there was even anything to find…but if there was, and if it was the only thing that could save Tai Lung, he was honor bound to try.

 

Sighing heavily, Crane approached the wooden door, which he saw was held propped shut by an angled plank since the latch had been broken open—by the look of it, by some sort of slender, bladed weapon. He scanned the cobblestoned street and the patch of flowered grass surrounding the foundations of the restaurant for anything out of the ordinary, anything which one of the sisters might have inadvertently left behind which would prove they were there and the ex-convict was not. He had just decided, to his frustration, that there was nothing to find and had just removed the board so as to open the door when a voice suddenly spoke from behind him.

 

"And just what do you think you're doing in Ping's shop, sonny? The place is closed, didn't you know? And if what they say about poor Zhuang is true, then who knows when or if Ping is even coming back…"

 

Whirling about, the avian kung fu master spied a middle-aged goat standing in the middle of the street, hooves planted on his hips and a querulous look on his bearded face. It took him several moments to realize he knew the fellow, if only vaguely, several more to recall his name. "Master Ning? What are you doing here?"

 

Ning Guo the apothecary—a well-known staple of the Valley for many a year, a resident that some people and families saw even more often than the local doctor, and an old friend of Oogway's—raised an eyebrow sardonically. "I could ask you the same question, Master Crane. I just came to check up on my old friend Ping, haven't heard from him in a while and I was starting to get worried. I'm surprised you're here, though, and not off seeing whatever this hullabaloo is all about."

 

"I…I would be, but…but I need to find something." Cursing his hesitancy and uncertainty that made him sound guilty and with something to hide, he quickly cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Tai Lung's trial is going on as we speak, and I have reason to believe something which could help prove his innocence might be in the restaurant kitchen. I'm friends with Po, Ping's son, so I'm sure he won't mind if I have a look around." _There. Much better._

 

Indeed, while the goat did still look a little skeptical, neither did he seem as suspicious and distrusting either. And as what Crane had said seemed to sink in, his expression changed completely to one of puzzlement, confusion—and then, inexplicably, concern. "Tai Lung. You don't mean the snow leopard? Big fella, heavy-set brows, mustache, upper-class accent?"

 

Crane was surprised on several levels—that Ning wouldn't have recognized the ex-convict on sight (could he have been out of town during the rampage twenty years ago? Or not even lived here then?), that he nevertheless seemed familiar with his features, and that the goat also appeared to be bothered by the prospect of the snow leopard being on trial. "Yes, of course! Why do you ask?"

 

"Well, because that just isn't possible," the apothecary said calmly, easily. "What is he accused of?"

 

"Killing Shen Zhuang, last night." He winced at having to say the words.

 

Ning's expression, if anything, became more firm and resolved, even a tad angry. "Then putting him on trial for it isn't just wrong, it's ridiculous. He couldn't have done it, he was at my shop, getting birth control herbs."

 

Crane almost choked on that—he'd only just learned, to his chagrin, that Tai Lung and Tigress were an item, and now he was expected to be perfectly sanguine with both of them indulging in…? _Damn, they moved fast, didn't they? And I do **not** want to think about Tigress that way. Or, gods, Tai Lung…_

 

Forcing such unwelcome thoughts and images out of his mind, he instead focused, quite sharply, on the shopkeeper's words. "Wait—is that true? Really?" Ning nodded sagely. "And—and you'd be willing to testify to that before the magistrate?"

 

The goat paused, looking a little frightened. "I…don't know…" Crane couldn't blame him for being wary: one of the more disturbing practices in the courtrooms of old was that any witness who offered their testimony in defense of an accused criminal, especially for a case of such severity as murder, could end up suffering his fate—torture, at the very least. And considering what Yi had seen out the window, how Chao's dark _chi_ seemed to be influencing and corrupting everyone in the Valley, it wouldn't surprise him in the least if Fu Xiao and the other officials reinstated such cruel, unjust practices. Xiulan would likely have insisted upon it…

 

Unable to afford any more time wasted while Ning dithered, Crane reached out, snatched him by the arm, and dragged him toward the door of the restaurant. "C'mon, you can decide while we're looking…I need clear-cut, hard evidence that'll stand the light of day. With the way things are now, I don't think even your word will be enough by itself…"

 

Before the goat could protest, the waterfowl had turned back to face Ping's shop—the door had swung open all by itself as its own weight made it creak and swing outward, leaving a dark and unnerving hole to the interior. But he didn't hesitate, rushing inside anyway.

 

The kitchen of the noodle shop was oddly cold and forlorn compared to the usual bustle and clatter it should have had at this time of day. No dishes were prepared, no food was bubbling and churning over the fire—in fact the remnants of the dinner Ping had been making for the bovine couple were still left where they'd been abandoned, now stone-cold and rank as they attracted flies in the warm, still air. Out the window of the service hatch, Crane could see the dishes and utensils still lying on the lone table, along with the single candle in its ceramic holder, now burned down to the base with the wax melted and re-hardened in a drooping, misshapen lump around it. Obviously nothing had been done about the mess by those who had been understandably more concerned about the crime which had been committed here.

 

Zhuang's body, of course, was no longer present; it had surely already been placed elsewhere for proper preparation before it would be displayed in the bull's house for his family and the community to view. But Crane could easily see where it had lain, as the area was not only surrounded by piles of cutlery, pots and pans, and other items that had fallen during the struggle…but by a very large, dark stain which had soaked into the stone floor, so deeply he didn't know if even a thorough scrubbing would ever remove it. Staring at this evidence which brought home to him, in a truly realistic way that no words ever could, what had happened, the avian removed his hat and bowed his head in sorrow.

 

When he had thus paid his respects, he at once began to search for anything out of the ordinary, anything unusual at all. While he confined his investigation to the kitchen for the most part, he knew he might need to look elsewhere too—surely the Wu Sisters would also have cased the entire building, whether to locate information about Po and his father or simply to be aware of all entrances and exits. And so anything they might have inadvertently left behind could be anywhere, really.

 

Pausing in the doorway of the panda's room, Crane couldn't help but gaze about a bit fondly at the Dragon Warrior's cherished possessions: beautifully crafted silkscreen paintings of the Furious Five, all of their action figures perched on the window sill (along with Tai Lung's, which inspired a quick double-take), and the throwing stars he'd used for target practice still stuck in one wall. Po truly was the most avid fan of kung fu, in fact he seemed to be more devoted to it, respectful of it, and aware of what it truly meant and stood for than anyone else in the Valley of Peace.

 

It warmed his heart considerably…but after eyeing all this for a few moments, Crane couldn't help but feel his fury and determination flaring anew—for he knew there was a terrible, depraved, sadistic madman out there who had hired the Wu Sisters to kill this very kind-hearted, heroic soul…and it was thanks to them and Chao that Tai Lung himself was now in just as much danger.

 

Hurrying down the short hall to Ping's bedroom, he glanced around perfunctorily and saw that nothing seemed to be amiss or out-of-order. He had just opened the bottom drawer of a dresser that had been partially out of its seating, and was peering down in some interest at a folded length of gold silk that looked far too expensive (and aged) to be something a simple noodle-making goose should own, when a cry from the floor below got his attention. "Master Crane! I think you should perhaps come and have a look at this…"

 

Rushing downstairs, the avian at once discovered Master Ning standing beside the oven, peering down in vindication at something on the floor while he leaned idly on his walking stick. When Crane appeared at his side, the goat lifted his stick and pointed to something spilled across the stone between the oven and one of the low tables where Ping prepared his noodles. Almost hidden by a large pot, and not very far from the place where Zhuang had fallen, was a collection of leaves, stems, and crushed flower petals, spilling out of what was clearly the torn remnants of a cloth sack.

 

"That," Ning said, when Crane looked up at him in some curiosity, "would be the herbs I sold your feline friend. So that means he _was_ here after all. But if he had them with him, then it was after he came to visit me…which means he would have been on his way to the palace. That's the opposite direction from Ping's." He stirred the herbs with his cane, then grunted in satisfaction. "No blood. Yet it's all over the floor. Which means…"

 

"Which means," Crane interrupted him excitedly, "the herbs must have been spilled _after_ Zhuang was killed. Like, when Tai Lung came here to investigate and got arrested instead! This is _very_ critical evidence, thank you! I…I'll have to put it in something, to take to the trial…"

 

Ning pointed again, this time at the bird's side. "Why don't you use that? A bit much, but beggars can't be choosers."

 

Glancing down, the waterfowl saw that in his haste to answer the apothecary's summons, he'd brought the gold silk from Ping's bedroom with him. Shrugging philosophically, he bent down on the floor and quickly tied the silk into a bundle, into which he began sweeping the herbs with one wing. As he did so, he noticed a few characters in hanzi stitched into one corner of the cloth and frowned to himself. _Jiangxi? Funny…isn't that where Master Shifu said Tigress came from, before Bao Gu…?_

 

He'd just finished gathering the medicine into the bundle and tied it loosely shut when he saw it: beneath the table, shoved into the corner nearest to and partly under the oven's stone base, another piece of crumpled cloth. This one much more likely to have been found in the noodle shop, since it was clearly of peasant make…and, he saw as he abruptly held his breath, not far at all from the edge of the bloodstains. Therefore, not far from where Zhuang's hand had likely fallen.

 

Slowly, being careful not to pull too hard and thus tear precious evidence, he drew the cloth out from its hiding place. At once he recognized what it was, where it had come from…and when he opened it up and smoothed out the wrinkles, he gasped. "This…this is exactly what I was looking for! I—I've got to get to the trial, now, before it's too late!" _Gods bless you, Zhuang. Even in death you were able to help us._ Crane turned toward the back door again, then paused to peer pointedly at Ning. "You coming?"

 

For several agonizing moments the goat looked fretful and torn. Then, seemingly coming to a decision, he slammed his stick down into the floor with a sharp report and nodded, striding toward the bird's side with the carriage and posture of a much younger man. "I'm old enough, I've had a good life…and this is too important to leave up to that busybody Fu. Besides…it's about doing what's right."

 

Crane didn't know if Ning had not witnessed the rampage at all, if he were one of those who, like Zhuang, had come to forgive the snow leopard and believe it was better for everyone to move on and put the past behind them, or if he simply followed justice no matter for whose sake it was applied. But he didn't care, he'd found what he was looking for and even more, and as long as he had even one witness willing to corroborate his story, who wasn't under Chao's thrall and believed in defending Tai Lung…well, he just might be able to finally make a difference.

 

"Good. Come on then, let's go." And he shoved the door open again with his shoulder, leading the way for the apothecary to follow him into the street, heading in the direction of the village's central square.

                                                                     

* * *

 

Although after the number Viper had done on her, Chun was just about as incapacitated as her sisters, Po was taking no chances, and so soon enough she too had been laid out with the other assassins, her body numb and limp thanks to the nerve strikes he'd applied to it. Once that was out of the way, though, the next immediate order of business had been to fetch his father.

 

Taking one of Xiu's own daggers with a grim sort of irony, the panda skirted the edge of the _chi_ -boiling pool until he was beneath the boughs of the beech tree. There he gently and lovingly grasped the dangling goose close, holding him in the crook of his arm as he sawed and slashed through the rope holding Ping in place. Once the fibers parted, he hurriedly cradled the noodle-maker in his arms…not only was he still breathing, but his eyes fluttered and he began to stir as Po carried him back around the pool to where Tigress and Viper waited with their prisoners. "Po…Po, is that you…?"

 

Letting out a huge, explosive sigh of relief, the panda couldn't keep the tears from welling up. "Dad…oh gods, I was so afraid you'd—yeah, it's me! I…I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner, but it's okay now, I saved you." He swallowed against a lump in his throat. "I stopped the Wu Sisters, they aren't ever gonna hurt you again. I promise."

 

He didn't know what he would have done if his father really had died. It didn't matter they weren't related by blood. Ping was the only family he had, that he'd ever known. Many would not have taken in and adopted an orphan as their own, especially not someone of a completely different species—one which would become much, much larger, and which for all their usual gentle attitude were still predators. But Ping had…and while Po knew he now had a whole group of kung fu warriors as his close friends and a surrogate family of sorts, it just wasn't the same.

 

If he had lost his father…well, at the very least, he'd have sunk into a grief-stricken depression, maybe turned into a violent vigilante seeking revenge. He might even have fallen into the same mindless ferocity as Tai Lung had when denied the Dragon Scroll. Maybe Xiu had been right to compare them after all.

 

Thankfully, he'd never have to know now what might have happened. But just thinking about the possibilities made him shiver—especially when he recalled how close he'd come to losing control, there while fighting Xiu…

 

As he was walking, Po tried to finish untying the ropes which bound Ping, but between the awkwardness of doing so while carrying him, the tight and intricate knots, and his own thick fingers, he found it to be an infuriatingly impossible task. Luckily Tigress came to his rescue, as soon enough her claws had severed the hemp and allowed him to slip the goose free of the last of the harness. Half-sitting up, he fluttered his wings a bit feebly at Po's arm as the panda flopped down on his rump beside Jia and crossed his legs. "Oh, Po…oh, my big, brave kung fu warrior…I knew you'd come eventually. Never doubted you for a second…"

 

They shared a brief but intense hug, while the panda wept soft tears of joy on Ping's shoulder, and then he quickly checked his father for any injuries. Other than a little abrasion around his neck and under his wings from the ropes, he seemed to be all right, so Po felt it safe to pause and look up to the others. "Hey…first of all, I wanted to say…thanks, guys. I couldn't have done this without you."

 

"What are you talking about?" Viper burst out. "You were _amazing_ out there!"

 

"It's true," Tigress admitted, and rather than sounding grudging or annoyed, she seemed quite proud and pleased. "It seems you learned a great deal from everyone—especially Tai Lung."

 

Po felt his face turn red, but he swiftly tried to brush it aside anyway. "What? _That_? Naw, that was—that was nothing! Anyway, I wouldn't have had the chance t' do what I did, if you two hadn't kept 'em distracted an' stuff. It was a team effort, an' that's just what I'm gonna tell everyone when we get back to th' Valley."

 

It wasn't that he didn't know or wish to acknowledge how much he'd improved, that he really was shaping up to be a skilled and versatile kung fu warrior. He simply wanted to give credit where it was due. There being three of them had really made all this possible, so that none of the sisters could gang up on him the way they had before…and he couldn't count how many moves he'd learned and implemented thanks to Tigress…

 

"Speaking of gettin' back…we really should, you know." He bit his lip, glanced aside at the sisters, then continued. "If—if what Xiu said was true, an' Tai's on trial for killin' Zhuang…"

 

The stricken look on both their faces mirrored his own, he was sure. He couldn't help himself—as he thought of the brave, kind, easygoing bull who had helped them fix the palace, who had loved his cooking, whose friendship had been so important to Tai Lung, and who had now left behind a little daughter to live on without him…the tears were soon pouring down his cheeks. What truly surprised him, as he sniffled and tried to wipe them away, was to see Tigress's own eyes were wet and gleaming too. _Showin' emotion…maybe there's hope for her yet…_

 

As the striped feline knelt beside him and put a paw on his, and Viper slithered over to wrap her tail comfortingly around both of them, Ping sat up the rest of the way and reached out to rest a wing on Po's chest. "Wh-what? Tai Lung kill Zhuang? That doesn't make any sense! I was there, I saw it all, it was the oldest Wu Sister, the one with blue eyes…Tai Lung, he wouldn't hurt a fly, not anymore…"

 

Tigress inhaled sharply, then leaned in close. "Are you sure? Could you tell everyone that back in the village?"

 

Ping blinked at her, nonplussed, and opened his bill to speak, but before he could Po cut across him. "Uh, Tigress…maybe it's just me, but I don't really think my dad's in any condition to fly, and there's no way you could get him back there any faster. Besides, you guys are injured and need treatin', an' the quicker you get back to help Tai, the better." Of course, he had another reason to keep Ping here, but he wasn't about to tell them that.

 

"What are you suggesting?" the striped feline asked, by the sound of her voice barely restraining her impatience and displeasure.

 

"That you two go on ahead, run back to the Valley as fast as you can, and tell them what my dad said—as well as whatever else you can think of to clear Tai's name. I'll follow ya in time."

 

Viper glanced down at the prone forms of the three assassins, a look of clear repugnance and rejection on her face. "And what about them? We can't just leave them here, much as I'd like to."

 

He paused, then shrugged. "I'll bring 'em back with me. They're harmless now, they don't weigh too much, an' I'm strong." He managed to say this last without sounding like he was bragging, which made him feel rather good about himself.

 

For a moment the two female kung fu masters looked uncertainly at each other, but then apparently their concern over Tai Lung won out over the admittedly small worry of anything happening to the panda while they were away. Because without further ado, the striped feline scooped up the serpent and placed her atop her shoulders, wrapped loosely around the back of her neck, and then performed as deep and respectful a bow as she could under the circumstances. "All right…Master Po. We'll see you back in the Valley."

 

Even as he was still flushing in embarrassment (but inwardly tickled pink at this high praise), Tigress turned, got down on all fours, and sprinted with astonishing speed across the field toward the ledge that led back to the valley, not even breaking her stride despite the fact he knew she had to have been injured significantly by Xiu. In seconds, she and Viper were out of sight, the latter with one last forlorn look at him.

 

Waiting a few moments…then a few minutes more, until he had spied the leader of the Four on the ledge and disappearing from view down the mountain trail…until he was sure he was alone and unobserved, Po at last got back to his feet and tenderly set his father down, propped up against the boulder. As he did so, the goose looked up at him worriedly. "Son? What's going on? I thought you said we were going back…?"

 

"We are. There's just…somethin' I gotta do first." _Or try, anyway_. The idea had come to him after the heat of battle had faded, as he was moving to untie Ping and had gazed down into the darkened, fetid waters of the Sacred Pool. He didn't know if it would work; he didn't even know how to do it, if it was possible. But he had to make the attempt. Shifu had said that one of the natural abilities of water—and therefore, he hoped, of one who had influence over it through elemental _chi_ —was to cleanse and purify.

 

The corruption and tainting of the pool by Chao must have been geared, in some way, toward helping him extend his influence over the entire Valley…in which case, if Tigress and the others were to have any chance to sway the magistrate in Tai Lung's case, then the pool had to be purified. Even if this weren't the case, he couldn't in good conscience leave it like this, this blessed and holy birthplace of kung fu, one of the last ties any of them had to Oogway. And restoring it would break Chao's power, give them a chance to find him and bring him down before he tried something even worse.

 

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Po crossed back over to the shores of the pool, eyeing the waters warily, fearfully. This close he could both see and smell how sickened and blackened it had become, and it almost made him lose his last meal to stare down into the Sacred Pool.

 

What a perverse and ironic name that now seemed, as he gazed into the ebony waters caught in the mid-afternoon sunlight…the formerly still and placid surface now a rushing, churning flow of poison that steamed and boiled as it rose from the depths of the wellspring, not a sign of the purity and sanctity he had seen not a month ago, everything dark, lifeless, and impenetrable within it. All around, the skeletons of lifeless animal husks, the dissolved dust that had once been lively grass, and barren soil which looked incapable of ever producing life again surrounded the pool, while the stench of Heian Chao hung over all.

 

Stopping at the edge of the drop-off, the panda knelt down as close as he dared to the tainted waters—and then, after taking another deep breath, this time to center himself and focus all the energies of his _chi_ into this monumental task, the Dragon Warrior closed his eyes…set his jaw…and extended both paws out over the water, pouring every ounce of his will into the pool. _C'mon…this isn't natural and you know it…purge it…get it out, just like draining a snake bite…sorry Viper…go back to what you used to be, I know you can…use my strength if you have to, I got plenty t' spare…please…_

 

To his utter shame, however, absolutely nothing happened. He could feel waves of heat in the air, and when he dared to crack an eye open and take a peek, he saw golden shimmers between his paws and the water—which was stirring and whirling faster and more wildly, hissing and spitting like a living thing, though whether it was attempting to respond or was fighting him, he couldn't tell. What was clear, after several moments, was that the surface of the pool remained as black and foul as ever, and he could not feel any sign that the disturbing layer of evil atop it—like the curdled skin which formed on heated milk—was on the verge of splitting and dissolving.

 

Sighing and lowering his paws, Po frowned like a thunderhead, furrowing his brows severely and resting his chin on his knuckles as he thought fiercely. Finally, after several puzzled, feverish moments, he realized, with a definite sensation of idiocy, what was wrong: _I'm not a mage, like Heian Chao. I can't just wave a paw an' will things t' happen. I've got elemental_ chi _, but I'm still a kung fu warrior. I gotta pour my_ chi _into that!_

 

Nodding decisively, he clambered back to his feet, smacked his paws together firmly, and bowed toward first the pool, then the river. Then with a long, shallow inhalation that drew in all the life-energy around him, and an equally long exhalation that expelled his own _chi_ into the air, the panda planted his feet solidly…bent one knee and angled his right leg forward…then let out a _kiai_ as he thrust out with both paws in a two-palm strike.

 

Instantly, the waters of the river obeyed his will, rushing out of their banks to flow across the field toward him—and the Pool of Sacred Tears—in an endless wave that only surged higher, thicker, and stronger the more he directed every ounce of his spirit into it. As it neared his side, the glittering, crystalline water suddenly dipped down and flattened out like a shelf of rock, slipping beneath his feet and scooping him out of the grass…but though part of him longed to panic, he kept himself focused on the training Master Shifu, and then Tai Lung, had instilled in him.

 

Slowly at first, then with increasing confidence, he put himself through the tai chi stances—and with each twist of his body, planting of his feet, and angling of his paws, the water beneath him obeyed his commands, encircling the pool and flowing around it in a gradually increasing spiral, like a whirlpool in slow motion. As he began to apply the more rigorous and violent motions of kung fu instead—Tiger Fist, Dragon Kick, Mantis Strike, and Tai Lung's own signature moves—the water moved faster, spreading out beneath him like gigantic wings overshadowing the plateau.

 

And as his _chi_ infused it, it began to glow brighter, brighter—bright blue becoming paler, lighter, then a shining white, and finally a blazing silver fire, while within the area circumscribed by the waterspout he'd formed the air and land both began to burn with gleaming gold.

 

He didn't know how he was doing it; he just knew that it felt _right_ , and that as Shifu had taught him, he had to give into this emotion and follow his heart wherever it led him. Cresting atop the splashing, rippling plane of water nearly ten feet above the pool, the Dragon Warrior gazed down at its Stygian depths with determination and tenacity—then abruptly punched downward with Tai Lung's Leopard Claw.

 

The water he rode followed his directive, gushing downward as if suddenly released from behind a dam, and as it struck the surface of the pool, a flash of light as bright and fiery as the sun exploded upward from the bottom of the spring—like a liquid beam of moonshine, spearing straight upward to disappear into the dark clouds gathering high above Wu Dan and the Valley. In that same instant, the whole mountainside shook as if a great bell had been struck—in fact, dimly he thought he heard the actual morning bell clattering and clanging on its hilltop—and the same silvery light seemed to touch the clouds…infusing them…lightening their dirty gray into pristine white.

 

Below, the taint of Heian Chao was forced upward in a column by the endless cascade of silver, _chi-_ laden waters, and once trapped within its snare it began to steam and dissolve away…its darkness and poison dissipating utterly—into nothing, into the spirit world, he neither knew nor cared. All he focused on was sending every drop of goodness and kindness he could think of into his _chi_ , into the corrupted pool, into the water he rode upon:

 

The love of his father; Viper's gentle sweetness; the peace he had brought to Master Shifu; Zhuang's generosity; Yi's innocence; the respect and admiration he'd earned from Tigress at last; and above all, the undeniable courage Tai Lung possessed, as well as the true, enduring friendship he knew he'd forged with his former enemy, the relationship based on forgiveness granted without merit or earning it, the nobility and heroism that had once resided in the snow leopard which he was absolutely sworn to bring back and see restored for good if it killed him. He sent it all, all these thoughts and memories, all his emotions about them, downward and outward through the waters while he stood upon them, perfectly balanced in a Crane pose, eyes closed and chest heaving powerfully.

 

Yet somehow, through his closed lids, perhaps with eyes of the spirit and heart, he saw what was being wrought upon Wu Dan. The shadowy, inky waters evaporating entirely into nothingness, the void being replaced by the river waters rushing in and bursting upward in a spraying geyser while the never-ending whirlpool encircled it. The pall of death, despair, and decay being driven from the mountain's slopes, as if a veil which had overlain the Valley was now being drawn back and away.

 

All across the fields and farmland, the shadows were fleeing, racing back, mounting upwards and curling over as if a scroll being rolled away, letting the sun shine with preternatural clarity on the village, the gleaming roofs of the Jade Palace, the blooming pink buds of the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom. The sense of terror, hatred, fear, and anger that had lain over the Valley since the night before was vanishing, allowing relief, wonder, and gratitude to wash in its place like a breath of fresh air—in fact, he could smell it on the breeze, the scent of osmanthus and chrysanthemums so fragrant and reassuring…

 

And at last, as the clean air and shower of water descended to fall back into the pool once more, and the water on which he perched again swirled and spiraled around the barren shoreline, suddenly it wasn't barren anymore. Everywhere the water touched, or where the air shimmered golden, life sprang into being once more. Roots thrust up from the rich earth, grass and flowering plants swelled upward and sprang from seed pods with an almost palpable joy, trees and shrubs burst into being with accelerated growth, all of it following Po in a verdant triangle that surrounded the pool, spread across the plain, and at last spilled over the side of Wu Dan toward the Valley below.

 

By the time he no longer felt any hint of darkness and corruption, the river waters sank back down toward the ground and returned to their banks with the relaxation of his will and a final tai chi turn upon one foot, and the Pool of Sacred Tears once more shone and shimmered with the purity and sanctity he remembered well, the entire slope of Wu Dan blazed with life, color, and light, and the birdsong seemed to fill the air with a joy and hope so explosive no heart or throat could contain it.

 

And as he let the waters recede and rest…performed an even deeper kung fu bow than before…and at last sank to his knees and opened his eyes, Po wasn't at all surprised—nor was he ashamed—to find tears streaming down his cheeks.

 

For a moment, just a moment, as the misty spray above the pool and river hissed and settled, and his _chi_ shimmered one last time before fading out, he thought he saw an aged, wrinkled face reflected within it…the face of Oogway…and it was smiling at him. Not as he had in life, with that endlessly befuddled amusement, but with wisdom, honor, and understanding—and he nodded once to the panda. An acknowledgment and a mark of respect far greater than any bow.

 

When the grass rustled softly and Ping shuffled wearily and somewhat weakly up to his side, reaching out to rest a wing on his elbow as much to support himself as to offer comfort, the goose's words echoed almost exactly what Po was thinking himself. "Oh, my word…why, I don't believe it! Wh-what have you done?"

 

"No…no worries, Dad." He felt more tired than he had after defeating Tai Lung, after the three grueling days of training under Shifu—heck, after he'd climbed the Jade Palace steps for the first time. More tired than he had a right to be, even after fighting the Wu Sisters. He wondered how much more it took out of a person to call upon…and burn up…almost all of his spiritual energy instead of just his physical stamina. He wondered how long it would take to replenish itself. He wondered if he'd recover at all. But it was worth it, in the end. "I just…had to undo what Chao did, make the pool good again. Just lemme…rest a little…hoo boy…and we can head back…"

 

It actually took at least an hour before Po felt he could move again, and even then his movements were sluggish and uneven, his head woozy and his voice slightly slurred. A refreshing drink from the Pool of Sacred Tears, however (which proved beyond a shadow of a doubt, no pun intended, that it was clean again), did wonders for his constitution and energy levels. At least enough that he could get to his feet and contemplate heading back to the village with his father…and his cargo.

 

A little thought had led to him arranging Xiu's limp form over one broad shoulder so that she dangled down his back, Chun on the opposite shoulder with her chin resting on his white-furred chest. Then, scooping up Jia in his arms, he nodded to Ping and they departed the plateau, descending the same ledge that led down into the Valley. The three sisters together didn't weigh very much at all, and the unrelenting determination Po possessed let him handle their dead weight regardless so that they were soon making good time along the pathway and he wasn't even breathing that hard.

_Maybe one of these days I'll actually make this climb without gettin' outta breath at all. Somethin' to shoot for!_ Of course he still was working up a sweat—which meant another visit to the bathhouse… Pacing himself as best he could, the panda glanced down at his father with a lump in his throat as he once again contemplated what would have happened if he'd lost him. And so he happened to catch Jia's violet eyes gazing up at him.

 

What he saw there startled him—the youngest Wu Sister seemed to be looking at him in undisguised wonder and respect, and when she spoke in a hoarse rasp, he found out why. "Po…wow. You…I can't believe what you just did! You…you really do have great power, Dragon Warrior. We never should have tried to fight you…"

 

It was on the tip of his tongue to retort that it was a bit late for that, but he wisely held it back. Instead he sighed and averted his gaze in embarrassment at all the attention. He knew he'd done something amazing, that he'd truly proven himself the Dragon Warrior now as well as a budding master of _chi_ …but that didn't stop him from feeling outclassed by the Furious Four and Tai Lung—even on the distant day when he might have mastered all one thousand scrolls too, he'd probably always look up to them. Nor did it keep him from forgetting why he fought, why he was doing all in his power to protect the Valley and stop Chao—not for glory or power, not to be an amazing show-off, but to do the right thing, help those who needed it, and be the best that he could be.

 

Still…he had to admit, what he'd done had been pretty darn cool.

 

"Hey," he said lightly, trying to wave it aside as he blushed, "anybody with th' right trainin' could've done that. I just did what had t' be done, 'cause there wasn't anybody else t' do it. All in a day's work for a true kung fu warrior." He puffed out his chest—then deflated it as he eyed the assassin in a mixture of accusation and regret. "But I guess ya don't know anythin' about that, do ya?"

 

Jia winced openly, and though she couldn't turn her face away, she did flick her eyes off to the side, along the trail and off the ledge's drop-off. She swallowed. "I used to. Once. And I'd like to again. But…it's too late for me, big guy. For all of us."

 

"What're you talkin' about?" Po couldn't help letting his jaw hang open in disbelief. "Weren't ya payin' attention? Look at Tai, look at how far he's come! It's _never_ too late…"

 

"Tai Tai is different," the snow leopardess said in a tiny voice. "He used to be a good guy once. We…never did. And maybe he doesn't know where he came from…but we're from a long line of assassins. That's all we are and will ever be. Nothing can ever change that." Her tone had become listless and empty, both reciting an old catechism and descending into despair.

 

He knew it could all be a lie or a trick, that Jia was simply playing the sympathy card to try and earn his trust, get him to like and help her so that later, when he least suspected it, she could break out of prison and free her sisters for another killing spree. But as he looked down at Jia, Po somehow knew, with instant clarity, that she was telling the truth—or at least, what she viewed it as. That she was speaking from her heart was certainly undeniable.

 

And even though he knew it could get him in a lot of trouble, that Tai Lung, Shifu, or even Tigress would tell him he was being stupid and foolish, he had to note that the spotted feline didn't seem much different from himself, once upon a time. He too had thought he would never amount to anything but a short-order cook, that his destiny was set in stone and he would never achieve his secret dreams. It had taken work and dedication, and he could never become complacent about it, but he had finally gotten there. As he'd once told Tai Lung, if he could be a hero, anybody could. Even one of the hated and feared Wu Sisters.

 

"You're wrong," the panda said almost as quietly. "I don't know why…maybe I took one too many hits on th' noggin. But I believe in ya. I think ya got a chance. I think, if ya really try, an' believe in yourself, then ya got a shot at redeemin' yourself too. You don't have t' be anythin' but what you wanna be. No matter what your sisters say." Here he glared at Xiu's back, then Chun's dangling head. "I followed my heart, I didn't give up, and now I've got a whole new life 'cause of it. It's not easy, in fact it's darn tough…but it can be done."

 

"He's right, you know," Ping suddenly spoke up, startling both of them. The goose had a surprisingly introspective and serious look on his face. "I was there, too. I heard what you and your sister said, what you tried to do, in my kitchen. You've already shown you have a good heart in my book. And Po's such a good boy…if he sees something in a person, then it's there, it's just that simple."

 

The bird paused, then added proudly, "It's the same thing that makes him such a good cook. Why, I remember the time I accidentally spilled a whole bottle of ginger in the stew, and I never would have known it was there thanks to all the pepper covering it up, but Po could still smell it…"

 

Jia laughed, weak and painfully since her lungs and diaphragm could barely work. Ignoring the goose as he continued blathering on and waving his wings about to emphasize his points, she looked at Po seriously. "Thank you for saying that, panda. But I've done too much that was wrong…too many people want to see me dead…and then there's Xiu…" She shuddered faintly.

 

"I don't know," Chun spoke up suddenly, thoughtfully, almost making Po leap sideways off the ledge as he cried out in shock. "I think he might be right, too. It's too late for me, and really, I enjoy the life of an assassin far too much to ever go on the straight and narrow. But if there's anyone who could turn their life around like Po did, it's you, Jia."

 

For a moment the bear could only work on calming his breathing and heartbeat to a manageable level, and once that was accomplished, he found himself smiling in vindication as he heard even the emotionless middle sister advising that Jia not give up and she should listen to his encouraging counsel. But then the last thing Chun had said sank in, and he frowned. Even as Jia was looking thoughtful and a touch of hope was starting to dawn in her violet eyes, he turned and glared down at her sister.

 

"Wait a minute…what're you talkin' about? 'Like I turned my life around'? You sayin' bein' a noodle chef is that awful compared t' bein' th' Dragon Warrior?" _Okay, I couldn't stop dreamin' about kung fu, I wanted more than anythin' t' go t' one of th' academies or even th' Jade Palace. But I loved cookin' too, an' there's nothing shameful about it…_

 

Chun peered at him, then snorted. "Well it's hardly my cup of tea, panda. But no, that's not what I meant. I was talking about your parents. Considering what they were, what they became, the fact you've become the greatest hero and force for peace in China…that's really quite amazing. It means Jia has a shot at this, too."

 

Rolling his eyes, even as he felt that familiar twinge of nausea mixed with a clammy chill whenever this subject was brought up, Po growled. "Again? Aren't ya ever gonna give up on that bone, Chun? I already told ya, I don't believe a word ya said an' I don't need t' hear it anyway."

 

Something hardened in her bright green eyes, and when she spoke again her voice was low and rather cruel. "Well whether you need to or not, you're going to hear it anyway. You're not going to throw me over the cliff, so unless you gag me you're going to have to listen. And I'm tired of keeping secrets." She sighed, and to his confusion suddenly looked weary, sad, and lost, like a little girl—or perhaps a discarded toy that had belonged to one.

 

"I made a promise twenty years ago…and even if I've done a pretty poor job of keeping it, it's high time you knew the truth. At least if you know where you came from, you'll be able to properly honor your parents…and believe me, they deserve it."

 

As they came around a bend in the ledge and the sweeping panorama of the Valley with the Jade Palace on its distant peak came into view, Po struggled with what to say, with his decision, with his very emotions. He should not listen, let alone believe. Even if Jia could be trusted, Chun could not; even if neither of them were outright lying, they could easily be mistaken, could have confused him for someone else.

 

On the other paw…what possible reason would they have now to lie to him, or to tell this story at all? They had been defeated, they would be put on trial for their crimes and likely executed, and revealing to him what they knew—if it was the truth—would cost them their only bargaining chip. If they truly were trying to manipulate him, they should be withholding the tale until after he had promised to speak to the Emperor or the magistrate and plead for a lighter sentence. And if they were lying or wrong, surely his father could contradict them.

 

Yet all of that being true, why would they tell him if it was the truth? Why should either of them care about him, what he knew and felt? Especially when at least one of them had tried to kill him on more than one occasion? Could this promise be real? Could they care because they had sworn to look out for him, somehow? _Fat lotta good that did. An' with their kinda help, I think I'm glad they didn't show up anyway!_ And how could they even know his parents? It didn't bear thinking about…

 

He sighed. Jia had spared him twice—once at the Jade Palace, once now at Wu Dan. And when Chun had brought him the deal the night before, she'd seemed genuinely concerned for his welfare—well, for her, anyway. He at least owed them a chance to speak their case.

 

"Fine," Po said as levelly as he could manage. "But I can't promise anythin'."

 

"Fair enough." Chun flicked her eyes to the side. "You were part of this too, Ping, so you'd better stick up for us. I think you can consider null and void the oath Bao made you take. It's more important for your son to know the truth."

 

The panda glanced at the goose—and swallowed whatever he was going to say. Instead of still babbling about cooking and noodles, Ping had fallen silent and gone vaguely white beneath his feathers. He wasn't sure what he saw there—fear, worry, distress, or sorrow, but what he knew for sure was that his father knew _exactly_ what the Wu Sisters were talking about. He had kept Ping here with him because, after what Xiu had said, he'd wanted to question the assassins eventually and had needed someone with him who knew and could confirm the truth. But he hadn't expected this... A sense of betrayal stabbed him in the gut. "Dad…?"

 

Ping flinched, interlaced his wing feathers, and looked up nervously with a very weak smile. This soon faded altogether into solemnity, a look he recalled well from that night in the village streets, when the goose had said it was time to tell him something he should have long ago. Only this time, he sensed for once it had nothing to do with food or the restaurant. "Son…I am so sorry. But…I think you should listen to what they have to say."

 

Looking back and forth from the paralyzed snow leopardesses to his adopted father, the Dragon Warrior felt adrift in a turbulent sea of emotions, as everything he thought he knew turned upside down and changed its meaning. His father had concealed things from him? And the assassins were actually being honest? They _did_ know something about his parents…

 

Part of him, instinctively, cringed back and didn't want to know, refused to hear it—because if the Wu Sisters knew them it must not be good, because he didn't want the fantasies and imaginings he'd always had about them tarnished and destroyed, because he simply had done just fine without them for twenty years. To have them intrude into his life now, undermine his happiness and dreams and everything he believed in, to have it happen only through tales of them no less rather than their actual presence…

 

At the same time, he had to know, he _demanded_ it, he had the right! And whatever the truth was, it couldn't be as bad as all that, look at the kind of person he'd turned out to be. That couldn't all be due to Ping, at least some of it had to be inherited…and Chun had said they would be proud of him, how could that be if they were bad?

 

Shaking his head violently to clear it of the self-doubt, fear, and growing resentment—directed as much at himself as at Ping, the sisters, or his parents—Po finally turned again and skewered the goose with a hard, unyielding stare. "You an' I are gonna have a talk later, believe you me. But Chun's right, you're helpin' her with this story too now, whatever ya know, wherever ya can." When the noodle-maker swallowed hard and nodded his assent with a rather wretched look in his luminous eyes, the panda turned back to the Wu Sister. "All right, start talkin'."

 

Chun took a shallow breath, all she could manage in her current condition, but he wasn't about to unblock her to make it easier on her. Not till he could be sure, and probably not even then. "Their names were Bao and Li-Na. From what they told us, they came from Jiangxi…"

                                                                      

* * *

 

While the opening remarks of the trial had been, if not open-minded and accepting, then at least somewhat civil and polite, after Fu Xiao had ordered Tai Lung be beaten as punishment for his evasiveness, hesitation, and willfulness it degenerated almost immediately into anarchy, cruelty, and malicious slander. Master Shifu, constantly trying to get a word in edgewise, and Mei Ling, desperately seeking to be heard above the increasingly raucous and violent din, had become alternately infuriated and frustrated as their every attempt to shed light on the matter and establish fair justice had instead been met with ill will, suspicion—and even outright hatred.

 

The mountain cat was the first to succeed in intervening. Striding forward past the guards—even shoving some of the more belligerent members out of her way when they dared to block her path—Mei Ling positioned herself firmly in front of Tai Lung's exposed back so that he could not be beaten without first striking her. The soldiers looked as if they would have no issue doing so, but they hesitated without Fu's direct order…and so she was able to rise to her full height and declaim in a determined, no-nonsense voice.

 

"Shame on you, _all_ of you! You take bits of weak, unrelated evidence as ironclad proof and reluctance to answer as admission of guilt. What has happened to your sense of morality and fair play?" Turning her head to skewer one villager after another with her hard, dark stare, the Li Dai graduate became even more passionate, her entire body trembling. "All my life I grew up with stories of how kind, just, and caring the people of the Valley of Peace were. But I am seeing _none_ of that now! What I am seeing is minds consumed by fear and anger, far too blind to see what's right in front of your faces."

 

Unsurprisingly the ram rose immediately to his feet, and to Shifu's shock and rising fury he seemed quite prepared to bend forward and literally bowl her over with a hard slam of his horns. "How _dare_ you! You interrupt this perfectly legal, properly sanctioned proceeding with your lies and malcontent, you denigrate the character of every citizen gathered here, and you expect us to believe—"

 

"Perfectly legal? Properly sanctioned?" Mei Ling exploded. "What the _hell_ are you talking about? This isn't justice, it's torture! And I think you've all done a pretty good job of damning your own characters."

 

Fu Xiao pounded his gavel so hard Shifu expected the rock to break, or else the table under it. "One more word out of you, and you will share Tai Lung's fate!"

 

"Gladly!" the mountain cat snapped brazenly, and at once her staff had appeared almost out of nowhere to slam down on the red-draped table with a solid _bang_ that made the ovine flinch back. His eyes fixed on the length of wood and would not meet her gaze. "But before you even think of trying it, why don't you try listening for a change?" She took a deep breath and rushed on before anyone could interrupt her.

 

"You know the Wu Sisters were there in the kitchen, even Xiulan admits it. One of their favored weapons is a dagger, while Tai Lung has _never_ been known to employ one. Zhuang's stomach was clawed open—to suggest a wild beast killed him, but it also hid the nature of the wound. And this doesn't suggest anything to you?"

 

"Yes," Xiulan sniffed. "That Tai Lung wasn't thinking clearly at all, or else he would have better covered his tracks. If he hadn't been in a rage, he would have known better than to kill my husband in such a distinctive manner. And the dagger proves nothing—the sisters were right there to give it to him! Not to mention, he must have counted on us thinking him innocent because of how Zhuang died. Use a weapon he'd never been known to use, and of course we'll seek a different suspect."

 

Mei Ling seethed, paws flexing around the haft of her staff where it still lay on the table. "And what about the clawing, anyway? How does that prove Tai Lung is guilty? He's hardly the only cat in the Valley—or the only one with claws at all."

 

The cow woman glared at her scornfully, but there was somehow a stilted mockery in her tone as well when she answered. "Are you confessing, then? Or accusing an innocent member of the guard? I should hope you aren't trying to pin the blame on sainted Master Tigress—who isn't even here anyway." While the mountain cat spluttered, Xiulan continued.

 

"It proves him guilty because it did in the past. He used his claws many times during his rampage, hundreds of people witnessed it! Establishing a pattern, I should say. He enjoys violence and blood, this is something we know…if you ask why he would do this to my husband, you might as well ask why he believed himself entitled to the Dragon Scroll—or how he lives and breathes!"

 

Letting out a furious snarl, the kung fu master swung her staff again, this time to keep back the nearest boar that had been moving forward to menace Tai Lung's bruised and battered form again. " ** _But he doesn't even have any blood on his claws_**! You're not making any sense!"

 

Xiulan sneered, the pronounced curl of her lip almost elegant in its contempt. "So? You of all people should know how fastidious felines are—especially one as arrogant as he is! And just before he ran me out of the restaurant, after he stabbed Zhuang, I saw him lick his paw clean of his blood. He _enjoyed_ it, he seemed to love the taste…and do you really think he'd leave any evidence behind to convict him?"

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Shifu saw a look of open horror and nausea on his son's dazed face, visible even through the puffiness where one of the guards had punched him repeatedly in the eye. But of course no one else was looking, or if they were they viewed it as yet another attempt to garner sympathy.

 

Mei Ling didn't answer the grieving widow—less because she believed this testimony, it seemed, and more because she couldn't disprove it. Instead she switched tacks. "At least let me examine Zhuang's body," the mountain cat said, pleading with her now. "If I saw the wounds, I could tell if Tai Lung's claws made them…I could tell if the knife that killed your husband was Xiu's…"

 

Striding forward as if propelled by her own force of vindication and self-importance, Xiulan hauled back and slapped Mei Ling hard across the face. Even as the unprepared feline staggered back with a paw held to her stinging cheek, her interlocutor hissed venomously as if she were the cat instead. "Don't even _dare_ think you can desecrate him, or my memories of him!" Her eyes narrowed suggestively. "And just how do you know either of them so well? Since when are you on a first-name basis with assassins?"

 

As Mei Ling froze, clearly unable to explain without condemning herself, the red panda stepped forward into the gap…and though he forced himself to modulate his voice, to restrain the panic, resentment, and ire that had gripped him since he'd first learned of this trumped-up, insulting charge, he still couldn't help but snap his words with much less care and politeness than before.

 

"None of that even matters." Shifu lifted his chin imperiously, coolly regarding the look of open disrespect on the bovine's face, then turned his blue gaze to the magistrate. "Because no matter how many ridiculous, flimsy excuses you come up with to build your case upon, the simple fact is…you do _not_ have a motive." Stabbing a finger toward Tai Lung, but never taking his eyes from Fu's face, he spoke firmly, his voice becoming louder with every word until it echoed in the courtyard and off the roof tiles.

 

"Shen Zhuang was his friend—the only friend he had in the Valley, save for the Dragon Warrior. He defended him, stood up for him, believed in him when no one else would. He stood between him and Wei Chang's blandishments. And he let his daughter play with Tai Lung. By the Jade Emperor in Heaven, why the _hell_ would he do that if he thought there was even the slightest chance my son would hurt either of them? Why would Tai Lung kill him when Zhuang had been nothing but generous and caring toward him—when doing so would guarantee everyone turning on him again?"

 

Outright disgusted, at the people for believing such insane lies and at Heian Chao for making them far too willing to do so, he stalked over between Mei Ling and Xiulan, glaring up at the latter and brandishing Oogway's staff in her face until she grudgingly stepped back. He turned in a slow circle, regarding the ring of faces, seeking vainly for a sign of contrition and shame amongst all the hatred and vengeance, trying to ignore the seething sea of shadows he still saw flowing and undulating around them and failing. "If you can believe that, you're all mad!"

 

Fu Xiao grunted, then leaned forward to plant both hands on the table. "Mad, eh? What a coincidence—I was about to say the same thing about Tai Lung himself. It might not make sense for him to kill his only friend, but by definition you don't _have_ sense when you're insane!" He nodded firmly in justification. "He has also never cared—about friends, about others, about anyone but himself. All Zhuang was to him was a naïve fool, one he could use as a shield to fend off prying eyes until he had gained his chance to once again take advantage of us. If he trusted Tai Lung…then he was indeed too blind and misled. And if, by some miracle, this felon had developed even a drop of human kindness in him so as to befriend Zhuang, that was surely lost and forgotten when his insanity overtook him once more."

 

The ram crossed his arms and shook his head, almost as if he actually regretted his words. "He nearly killed you when he made his way back to the Valley, and again this morning. He has reverted to form, as we all knew he would—as you yourself knew as well, if you would allow yourself to see the truth. It was only a matter of time…and now he must be done away with. His evil and destruction will plague us no more."

 

The red panda could not believe his ears. Granted, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that whispered the magistrate could be right—that while Heian Chao must surely be responsible in some way for all of this, if he had driven Tai Lung to such an act or even merely possessed him, then all might well be lost. His son could have fallen under the shroud of darkness again, the rage and passion and furor of his Yang overtaking him…if the monster had been let out again, it might never be bottled up.

 

But even so…he also knew the goodness and love that still remained in the snow leopard. Fu was wrong—Tai Lung had been trying so hard, he had nearly succeeded…and he did care about others besides himself. Po…Tigress…little Yi…and Zhuang. He had even managed to forgive Vachir! There was no way he could have done this, it must have been the Wu Sisters. To refuse to believe in him now, to turn his back on him as he had done the day Oogway denied him the scroll—that was something he could not countenance. No matter what happened, he would _not_ abandon Tai Lung again. Not even if he had to die himself to spare him this cruel, tragic fate.

 

Even as Shifu made this adamantine resolution, Fu Xiao was speaking again, even more pompous and pleased than ever. "You have provided not a shred of proof that Tai Lung was not present last night in Ping's kitchen, that he could not have committed the crime or had reason to do so. And your…'character witness' testimony is biased, woefully misplaced, and completely pathetic. Not to mention inadmissible since all of it is hearsay. I have had enough of your interference, Shifu. You were invited here only as a courtesy, and that has now been revoked. Another word out of you, and you, too, _will_ be punished…"

 

He began to beckon to the guards to approach Mei Ling and Shifu, but the panda glared coldly and made a single gesture. Instantly a large chunk of stone wrenched itself up out of the courtyard paving, hovering in mid-air and surrounded by the shimmering blue light of his _chi_. This new missile, which could easily crush any of the soldiers, hung poised and ready to smash forward and down with a single twitch of his finger. Unsurprisingly, the guards paused, fear quite evident on their faces as they slowly began to back away.

 

"I'd like to see you try," Shifu said quietly, but with a core of iron.

 

Quickly acting to cover this undermining of his authority, the magistrate coughed, cleared his throat, and turned back to face the assemblage. "In any event, this court has heard more than enough evidence, and all of this was merely a formality—for a wicked and immoral beast who has traumatized this Valley for the last time, nothing more is truly needed. We find Tai Lung guilty as charged, his sentence to be carried out immediately."

 

"No!" The panda heard Mei Ling echo his cry at the same time, but they were both drowned out once again by the wild cheering of the crowd. Xiulan, whose eyes brimmed over with tears and looked positively, and fiendishly, exultant, clasped her hands tightly to her chest…and the depth of hatred and bloodthirsty malice in her eyes would have given him pause even if he hadn't seen the flicker of sooty, crimson light in their depths.

 

Fu pounded the gavel again for silence, but did not receive it as the cow instead turned and gave an inhuman, triumphant grin to the villagers. "What shall we do with him? What will end his reign of terror? What will bring us true justice?"

 

"Boiling!"

 

"Crushing!"

 

"Impaling!"

 

"Castration!"

 

"Personally," Xiulan almost purred, "I believe he should receive the Death of a Thousand Cuts…" Glancing back over her shoulder at the magistrate, she actually pouted and then sighed. "But since it's already been built and prepared for us, I suppose hanging him from the gallows will have to do."

 

Again the roar of approval, and the crowd surged forward. The guards formed a cordon to hold them back, but only enough to allow the rest of their number to approach Tai Lung where he knelt, absolutely stunned. Desperately Shifu lunged in their path, wielding Oogway's staff horizontally between them, but before he could swing it or send the dirt-encrusted stone flying at them, a pig swung out with one knobby fist and actually succeeded in dealing him a glancing blow—enough to both hurl him sideways and make him lose his concentration. His small body was flung into Mei Ling's arms, while the rock fell to the ground with a barely audible thud.

 

By the time he'd recovered his senses and both of them tried again to stop the crowd, the guards had already unbound the snow leopard from the wooden posts and coiled the ropes behind him—jerking him along, kicking and slamming him into the gravel pathway, almost wrenching his arms out of his sockets as they tied the rough hemp in place to keep his limbs twisted back. They also spat on him and jeered vile curses that Shifu deliberately blocked out…he only focused on dragging Mei Ling along, chasing after the villagers as they pressed out from the courtyard into the square immediately outside Fu's house, followed closely by Xiulan and even the magistrate, unholy madness and lust for revenge burning in their eyes. Every face he beheld, as he ran into the village streets toward the gibbet they'd erected, had the same scarlet eyes, every body was surrounded by the same obsidian mist…

 

Screaming to anyone who would listen, shrieking pleas for understanding and nasty insults from one moment to the next, the master of the Jade Palace finally resorted to kung fu—swinging about with Oogway's staff, knocking people off their feet, slamming the gnarled upper portion underneath a soldier's chin, inverting to ram the butt end into another's stomach to make him double over, whirling and twisting to topple or knock back one rabbit, goose, and pig after another. Beside him, he could sense Mei Ling doing the same with her own staff.

 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but could only have been a few minutes, the two of them broke through the last rank of villagers and emerged at the steps leading up to the wooden platform everyone had eagerly encircled. Whether because he was still drugged insensible by the opium, the soldiers had simply overpowered him and kept him helpless with their bindings, or he had given up in abject despair, Tai Lung had allowed his captors to drag him into place, so that as Shifu and the mountain cat leaped up the steps onto the gallows, the spotted feline had already been moved into position, a noose as thick as his wrist shoved roughly into place and yanked so tightly that the snow leopard's eyes bulged and his face looked slightly blue.

 

Fu Xiao, who stood beside the wooden lever and gear system they'd constructed to control the trap door, turned and glared as the two kung fu masters scrambled toward him and his condemned prisoner. "What did I tell you? This goes far beyond flouting the law, now you are actively attacking and harming our fellow citizens? Whatever happened to 'defending the innocent' and 'protecting the Valley'? It seems _you_ are the one who's lost his mind…"

 

" _Damn_ it, listen to me!" He spread his hands and raised his voice to ring out across the square, so that everyone and not just Fu could hear him. At this point he had no recourse left, he had to attempt the full truth and hope he could break through the fog of their enemy's corruption. "Tai Lung did _not_ do this, and I can prove it! There is a powerful threat, a grave danger to the Valley and everyone in it, and it is _not_ Tai Lung. It is the man who hired the Wu Sisters, who incited Commander Vachir to those terrible murders, and he is here, now, influencing all of you even as we speak!

 

"His name is Heian Chao…he is a _chi_ wizard of the highest magnitude…he has power over all of us, more than you can possibly imagine! He only wishes our destruction, he wants our lives and our souls, and he must be stopped! He possessed Master Monkey, made him kill Master Mantis…it was by his order the Dragon Warrior was nearly killed…it is he who ended Zhuang's life, and if you kill Tai Lung you are only carrying out his will! You have to believe me…"

 

Even as he tried to explain what they were truly facing, who the real enemy was, what he had done and was still trying to do, Shifu knew it was a lost cause. He could see it in every upturned face—confusion, disbelief, ridicule, stubbornness, and above all scorn and hate. Especially from the magistrate and Xiulan, the latter having scaled the scaffold too to stand beside him. Not only did the jeering begin anew in moments, but the cow woman actually threw back her head and laughed derisively, arrogantly, even wickedly—a sound so chilling and empty of humanity that it seemed almost demonic, a laugh that first Fu, then the crowd, joined in on.

 

"What mystical idiocy are you trying to pawn off on us now, Shifu?" The seamstress gritted her teeth and gestured at him dismissively. "Do you really expect us to believe such tripe? If Mantis truly is dead, I bet you anything Tai Lung killed him, too. Are you that desperate you'll make up spiritual bogeymen and dredge up old wives' tales to defend your precious son? When even Master Oogway saw what a threat he was, and locked him away? We're not buying it, not anymore. We've had it with the Jade Palace thinking it can dictate our lives—your time is done, we choose our own destiny now!"

 

A loud, lusty roar rose from the crowd, which was fast becoming a mob, and all Shifu could think in his despair was that although they'd believed it for their own protection, they had once again played into Chao's hands by locking Monkey away—for he could have testified to his possession and Mantis's demise…

 

"But you're _not_!" Mei Ling cried plaintively, tearing him out of his self-pity. "He's controlling you, the same way he did Monkey, and Vachir—"

 

Xiulan wheeled about on her, again raising her hand, this time to form a fist she shook at the mountain cat. Her eyes looked positively demented, and Shifu thought he saw flecks of foam at her lips. " _No!_ You're not going to get away with this! No more excuses, no more ridiculous stories! A creature that can feed off of our spirits? That can take away our wills and make us his puppets? Quit using caricatures to try and hide your own failings! You made a monster, Shifu, and if it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure you pay for all the suffering he's caused.

 

"Don't you dare try and pretend there's someone else to blame, someone who controlled Tai Lung—are you trying to absolve him of all responsibility? He didn't kill Zhuang, he didn't try to kill you and the Dragon Warrior, he didn't even commit his rampage of his own free will—it was all this Heian Chao? **_NO!_** He did it all, there's no one pulling his strings, and he's going to pay for it once and for—"

 

"Wrong!" The authoritative, powerful, feminine voice broke through the woman's tirade, and in spite of themselves everyone turned to stare. From the other side of the crowd, someone stirred, firmly pushing their way between the riled-up villagers…and then Shifu's heart leaped in his chest as he saw sunlight shining off of striped fur. It was Tigress, with Viper right behind her slithering across the cobblestones. Both of them looked a little battered, the feline sporting a number of bruises and bloody wounds so that she rather looked as she had after her ill-fated journey to the Thread of Hope to stop Tai Lung. She also looked extremely dirty and sweaty, as if she'd arrived here at a dead run from Wu Dan—which she must have.

 

Climbing up the steps, Tigress paused to survey the crowd…her eyes lingering rather more on Tai Lung than anyone else, and as Shifu glanced at his son standing bound beneath the noose, he saw the first dawning of hope in those previously dull golden orbs, along with a love so intense and profound he was surprised no one else noticed it. The striped feline, meanwhile, spoke again, addressing everyone although her words seemed meant mostly for Xiulan. "He did not kill Shen Zhuang. He couldn't have. Because last night…he was with me."

 

Utter silence settled over the square, so sudden and startling that Shifu's huge ears seemed to burn and ring with the absence of all sound. Many faces were skeptical, condescending, and distrustful…but just as many looked confused and wary. And he knew why. It was one thing for him, the one who had raised Tai Lung, to intervene on his behalf…quite another for one of the Furious Four to vouch for him, especially Tigress. He could almost see the realization sinking in…

 

But just as he believed the truth was finally dawning, that Chao's sorcery was finally being broken, Xiulan stalked toward the feline and glared down at her on the steps. "Liar," she snapped caustically. "I saw him, I know he was there, I know he did it. I don't know why, but you're lying."

 

"No, I'm not." Somehow Tigress kept her voice level. "We were together all night, there's no possible way he could have done it. It was the Wu Sisters, and them alone—I know because Mr. Ping was there, he saw it all. He never saw Tai Lung…only the sisters."

 

Again, a silence as overpowering as the grave. People in the crowd began to stir and mutter uncertainly, doubtfully, glancing back and forth between the leader of the Four, Xiulan, and the convicted felon watching the whole drama unfold with pleading desperation. As the cow stood stunned, for the moment unable to say a word to gainsay her, Fu Xiao cleared his throat behind them. "Oh really? And just where is Ping, hmm? I don't see him here with you…"

 

"He's on his way back to the Valley now, with Po," she replied promptly, easily. "He'll tell you all about it…if you will simply wait, withhold judgment until you hear his side of the story—"

 

An ugly sound cut her off, and then the seamstress stomped down the steps until she stood right above, and almost eye-to-eye with, Tigress. "I don't believe you. You, of all people, would defend him now, after all he's done? I thought I knew you. I thought I could trust you, but I was right in what I said at the festival. You're in league with him, you've turned on the Valley and its people. There's no other explanation!"

 

Tigress got right up in her face in return, whiskers bristling and ruby eyes seething while she struggled to control her temper. "That's _not_ it. I simply know what I know. Ping saw what happened, he knows who really killed your husband. And Tai Lung was with me, as I said—"

 

"With you? All night? Doing what?" Xiulan snapped. "Just what were you doing with a monster like Tai Lung? Was he, perhaps, in your bedroom? Did he seduce you? Is that why you're so willing to defend him—are you nothing but a slut?"

 

Instantly, the leader of the Four struck out with a roar—claws sheathed, but otherwise knocking Xiulan's head back and sending her sprawling on the wooden platform. The crowd gasped, then began an ugly mutter, and Shifu had to close his eyes and bury his face in his hand. He understood why Tigress had reacted as she had…but by doing so, she had confirmed the cow's words.

 

"You see?" Xiulan said fiercely as she staggered upright, wiping blood from her lip. "She cannot be trusted! Everything she's said is a lie—why, it must be! We know he was here in the village last night, even Shifu admits it."

 

As Tigress suddenly looked stricken—clearly she had not expected the panda or the snow leopard to have said such a thing, had hoped that the errand they'd sent him on had been denied and kept secret—the bovine continued. "She's only saying what she wants us to hear! Why is it, Master Tigress? Do you _love_ him?" She said this last with scathing sarcasm.

 

The striped feline hesitated, then apparently decided things couldn't get any worse. "Yes. Yes, I do. But that's not why I'm defending him. It's because I know he's innocent."

 

Nothing she said after the first word seemed to have registered. Hands brandished as if she had claws herself, Xiulan let out a horrible cry. "She _admits_ it! You whore! How could you—the scourge of the Valley—the one who killed so many—this vicious monster—"

 

"He's _not_ a monster!" Mei Ling cried. "I _know_ he didn't do it, it was my sisters and them alone—"

 

Fu Xiao whirled about. "Your _sisters_?" _Shit!_

 

Suddenly everything seemed to happen at once.

 

With an inarticulate cry of rage, Xiulan leaped upon Tigress, pummeling her with her fists, kicking her with knees and feet, whatever means she had at her disposal to attack the feline and make her hurt for her pain. Shifu saw from her torn and frantic expression that his daughter didn't know what to do—she obviously couldn't allow this fight to continue, but with as violent and possessed by dark _chi_ as the woman was, Tigress might have to use brute force to put a stop to it and protect herself from the unnatural strength Chao granted. If she did so, though…she could end up killing Xiulan, who despite everything was still innocent.

 

At the same time, the entire crowd burst into a frantic, milling mass of shouting, screaming, infuriated rioters trying to clamber up onto the gallows—whether to get their hands on Tigress, Mei Ling, or Tai Lung wasn't clear. Viper was desperately trying to hold back as many as she could, but more and more were spilling past her and surging toward the wooden platform like waves on a dark sea. Twisting about to stand between them and their target, Shifu saw that Fu Xiao had ordered his soldiers to arrest Mei Ling, although the mountain cat had brought her staff to bear again and was whirling it about like windmill blades, sending the men flying off the gallows to lie groaning and bruised in the street.

 

Beyond her, Tai Lung still stood paralyzed in place, and the shadows clinging to his rosette-studded fur were even darker and more vile-looking than ever. The snow leopard looked from Tigress to Shifu, his expression bleak and resigned…he mouthed words: "Forgive me." Something seemed to die in those golden eyes, making them go flat…cruel…heartless…his fangs bared menacingly, and somehow even through all the noise, the panda could hear his growl, the same he had made that day twenty years ago when he crashed through the doors of the Jade Palace…

_Not again. I can't let him rampage again. No!_

 

Rushing forward, he saw out of the corner of his eye Fu Xiao beginning to pull on the lever that would open the trap door. Before him, he saw the darkness surge with renewed strength as it flared into being like a wicked aura around Tai Lung, saw his son stretch and strain all his phenomenal muscles to tear free of his bindings. Dimly, he was aware that the entire Valley was shaking, that somewhere off to the left in the direction of Wu Dan a pillar of silvery-blue light had exploded skyward, that the sky itself was clearing of the shadowy, dismal cloud cover which had concealed it ever since sunrise. And something seized him, somehow he knew instantly what he had to do, as if he heard a wheezing, creaky voice whispering in his ear.

 

"That…is… ** _ENOUGH!_** " Shifu thundered—and he brought down Oogway's staff, _hard_ , butt-first on the gibbet.

 

Instantly, just as it had almost three months before when Po had employed the Wuxi Finger Hold, a halo of golden light burst outward, this time with the peach wood stick as its epicenter. Brighter, more powerfully it blazed until it shone like the fires of the sun itself and Shifu was blinded by it—as he was sure everyone was. With a sound like a struck gong, the ring of _chi_ expanded, racing outward, surging upward in a hemisphere, a dome, a globe radiating across the whole Valley.

 

It threw all the villagers who hadn't already ducked instinctively, sending them sprawling on the ground. It tossed Xiulan and Tigress about like milkweed floss, the latter catching hold of the former as she dug her claws into the wood and hung on for dear life. It whipped over Tai Lung, buffeting his silvery-gray fur—and ripping away the dark _chi_ , turning it to wispy tatters that faded away into nothing, leaving the snow leopard standing there…shaking himself and trembling as if emerging from a nightmare, his eyes terrified, worried—but calm and gentle, the madness gone from them as if it had never been.

 

In seconds, the thunderous detonation of _chi_ was over, the golden wave had passed over everyone in the village, then over the buildings themselves, washing outward to the farthest boundaries of the Valley. The light died, and Shifu could only stare down at the staff he held in stunned disbelief…then at Tai Lung, who looked similarly stupefied. He wondered if his own fur and clothes were as standing on end and disheveled as the snow leopard's were. _I don't believe it. I just don't… **wow**._

 

Trembling slightly, the panda dared to look around. Out across the crowd first, to where he no longer saw a single shadow anywhere other than those the sunlight naturally produced—all the villagers either lying where they had fallen or struggling to rise, looking completely befuddled and frightened, as if they didn't recall how they had gotten there or what they'd been doing.

 

Then he turned to where Tigress was helping Xiulan to her feet and saw the cow woman, too, had lost her diabolical silhouette—and while she still looked angry and deeply upset, she also had a look of shell-shocked terror on her face (which had gone stark white), and tears were pouring down her cheeks. Finally he glanced in Fu Xiao's direction…and saw that while the ram was now on his hands and knees, fussing with his robes and staring miserably up at Shifu as if he were about to kiss his feet for absolution, the lever behind him had, in the explosion, been tripped.

 

Flicking his eyes to Tai Lung, he gasped as the sound of creaking wood became audible in the stillness, and then the trap door jerked and began to open. The snow leopard's head wrenched back and his eyes bulged as horrible choking sounds came from his throat.

 

Tigress rushed to save him, as did Mei Ling and Shifu—but someone else got there first, a blur of gray and white swooping down through the air to sever the rope in one fierce chop. Only as the three of them caught Tai Lung before he could fall through to the cobblestones below, and shakily knelt beside him to hold him upright, did the panda see who had been his son's rescuer.

 

It was Crane.

 

Landing lightly on the gallows with a brief furl of his wings that made his guard feathers shine in the late afternoon sunlight, the avian kung fu master closed his bill—with which, of course, he had cut through the rope—and looked about with a vindicated air. Everyone in the square stared at him in amazement, puzzlement, and disbelief, and Mei Ling in particular looked as if she longed to rush forward, sweep him in her arms, and kiss him soundly. Crane fidgeted nervously, shuffling his feet and ducking his head beneath his _dou li_.

 

"Um…hi, everyone. Yeah…sorry to, ah, interrupt…but I really, really think there's something you should see and hear. Er…I trust you all know Ning Guo?"

 

Gesturing to the side, the waterfowl pointed to where a somewhat aged goat whom Shifu recognized immediately stood leaning on a walking stick at the edge of the square. It was hard to tell if he was bemused by the spectacle, disparaging of it, or something in between. That he had a highly disapproving look was unquestionable.

 

"Yes," the apothecary said, rather testily. "Just thought I should come by and let you all know what's as plain as the noses on your faces before you waste all our taxes on a pointless trial." Somewhere to the side, Shifu heard Fu Xiao make a noise, what could have been either a grumble of protest or a stricken apology. "Seems you're all under the mistaken impression that Tai Lung killed poor Shen Zhuang. Well, I can tell you that at the time of the murder, he was in my shop last night." He paused, then smirked. "Buying a little something to keep his lady love from bearing cubs, I might add."

 

Somewhere in the crowd, someone choked, while someone else tittered weakly. Shifu didn't even have to look at the snow leopard to know he was blushing.

 

"So you see," Ning finished calmly, "even though he was in town last night, you've got the wrong man. Maybe it's just me, but you might want to rethink your law enforcement. Wouldn't want to kill an innocent by mistake, would you?"

 

"But…how…" Xiulan's voice was very faint, sorrowful, almost pitiful. She looked from one to the other, distress and denial on her still-pale face. "I don't understand…I know…I saw…"

 

"Heian Chao," Shifu said, as gently as he could, moving from Tai Lung to the agitated woman. "He made you see what he wanted you to see…what _you_ wanted to see."

 

On the seamstress's other side, Crane also knelt, only he wasn't just offering her comfort—he held out what looked like a package of gold silk. "These are the herbs Tai Lung bought from Master Ning," he said softly. "They were in Ping's kitchen…that proves he was at the apothecary shop before he went to the restaurant…he dropped them there…" He paused, glanced aside at the snow leopard who seemed on the verge of embracing him tightly—or else breaking down in tears of relief and gratitude. "I also found…this."

 

Looking up from the sack she'd started examining by instinct, Xiulan glanced at what Crane held in his wing—and immediately she did start crying, soft, gentle sobs. Taking the piece of crumpled cloth with shaking fingers, she smoothed it out on her lap. "Sweet Kwan Yin…this, this was Zhuang's. It's part of the _ru_ he was wearing last night…"

 

Crane nodded slowly, resting an understanding wing on her shaking shoulder. "I thought so. It looks like, as he was dying, he ripped it off and hid it under the table so someone could find it later. He wanted us… _you_ …to know what really happened. Why don't you let everyone see it, Mrs. Shen?"

 

Very slowly, choking up with her tears, the cow lifted the pale blue cloth up so that Fu Xiao, the guards, and everyone in the square could gaze upon it. There, written across the fabric in what, by its color, had to be dried blood, was two words in hanzi: WU XIU.

 

Perhaps it was his imagination, perhaps not. But somewhere in the distance—and yet at the same time, far too close for comfort—Shifu thought he heard a throat-rending, screeching scream of pure and utter wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The scene where Po cleanses the Pool of Sacred Tears is my homage to the ending of the "Firebird Suite" from _Fantasia 2000_ , with some of Yuna's first sending in _Final Fantasy X_ and the "Tree of Life" Jean Grey used to repair the M'Kraan Crystal in the 90's X-Men TV show thrown in.


	38. The Tale of Heian Chao

 

 

Kneeling still upon the hard wooden planks of the gallows that would have been the site of his death…or else his irrevocable and tortuous descent into madness and pure darkness once again…if not for all those who had rallied about to defend him, Tai Lung slowly let out a long, deep sigh and struggled valiantly not to dissolve into sobs of relief. Finally…finally the ordeal he'd been going through was over, and the constant terror, distress, worry, and desperation he'd been afflicted with since the previous night were no longer his companions.

 

He'd thought it would never end, and as each hour passed and his circumstances only worsened—as Chao's influence over the entire village only grew to a tighter stranglehold, as none of those who spoke up for him were able to pierce the veil of hatred and suspicion, and as it seemed more and more certain he would soon be executed for a crime he had not committed—the snow leopard had come that close to giving up, and giving in, to letting the constantly whispering voice of Heian Chao seduce him.

 

Never mind the irony that at the moments when his guilt was strongest he did believe he deserved to die, but for his rampage and not Zhuang's death. The simple fact was, seeing everyone turn against him, fearing he had driven Shifu away with his escape attempt, not knowing where Po and Tigress were…so that it seemed he'd been abandoned by those closest to him…and knowing everyone believed him capable of killing an innocent man who had never harmed him, one who was his friend, solely because he'd killed so many innocents twenty years ago… It had almost broken him.

 

When it had seemed the end was nigh, that all of Shifu and Mei Ling's words had fallen on deaf ears, when even Tigress had been unable to save him after she'd finally appeared, Tai Lung had been set to tear free of his bonds and make a run for it. His fury and hate, his fear and panic, it had all overwhelmed him until not even the opium could sedate him anymore, and all he could think was to get away, to live, to escape the people of the Valley, Heian Chao, everything that tormented and haunted him.

 

Would he have gone on another rampage, if he'd had to? Would he have slaughtered the villagers again, even his father, Mei Ling…Tigress? No, no surely not! But…he could not be sure, even now. He liked to think he would have retained some control, that while the treatment he'd received made him determined to flee, never look back, forget about the Jade Palace and everything he'd hoped to accomplish there, he would not have become a murderer again in the process. Yet an ugly part of him feared that he'd been that close to taking that fatal step…while he hoped he'd never have another chance to find out, he would also never know.

 

What he did know was, Chao had of course been pushing him to take that awful plunge, and if he had, he would have fallen prey to the wizard's evil. He would have been a complete monster again…and even worse, he would likely have been Chao's puppet, his soul consumed and destroyed, his body only a possessed shell for the wicked mage to inhabit while he carried out his insane, fiendish plans. All because he had started to believe the mad _chi_ -master, that no one believed in him or would stand by him, that he was once again all alone and unloved…and if any did care, they would be helpless to do anything for him. He had been a fool, his faith had faltered when it should have remained strong in his father and his lover, his new friends…even in what old Oogway had promised him.

 

It was all enough to make him want to bury his face in his paws and cry as he hadn't since cubhood. It made him so very grateful for those who had saved him…made him pray to the gods and offer more effusive and genuine thanks than he ever had in his life.

 

Looking up from his rather dark thoughts, Tai Lung acted on instinct—when he saw that Crane still stood nearby, quietly conversing with Shifu and Viper, he lunged forward with both spotted arms outstretched. The avian only had time for a quick and startled cry, abruptly cut off as the snow leopard caught him up in the tightest hug he could give without crushing the poor bird. And as he did so, he whispered brokenly in Crane's ear.

 

"Thank you…thank the gods for you, Crane. I don't think you have any idear what you saved me from…saved all of us from."

 

"You're…you're welcome, Tai Lung," the avian replied, sounding rather strangled.

 

"I promise you…I am your friend for life, now. If there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, just name it." And he meant it—Crane had saved him twice now, had earned his friendship and loyalty forever, and he was determined to let the bird know this. When Tai Lung accrued a debt, he repaid it in full.

 

Crane chuckled weakly, even as he tried to pull away. "Um…er…you could start by letting me breathe…"

 

From nearby, laughter filled the air as both Mei Ling and Viper overheard this exchange, and Tai Lung had to let go of the bird rather quickly, flushing in embarrassment and rubbing at the back of his neck. "Er…yes. Sorry about that…don't know my own strength sometimes, you know…"

 

The snow leopard was about to turn to Tigress and express his gratitude to her as well when he was forced to stare with his jaw hanging open—for as soon as Crane was free of his embrace, Mei Ling took that opportunity to sweep him up instead and solidly plant a kiss on the side of the waterfowl's beak. By the time she decided he'd properly submitted and had earned some air, Viper was grinning, Tigress was smiling a small, slow, but quite satisfied smile, and a great swath of bystanders in the crowd cheered.

 

As he got to his feet and staggered over to the others, Tai Lung smirked at the blushing Crane. "About _bloody_ time, I say!"

 

Crane blinked, and if his slumped shoulders were any indication he wished he could sink away into the earth. "Did everyone know but me?"

 

More laughter, and nods all around the circle—even Shifu looked mildly amused. Putting his arm around Tigress's waist and holding her close, the snow leopard winked with exaggerated care. Suddenly, although he didn't know why, he felt extraordinarily good—relaxed, calm, even euphoric. "Even _I_ could see it, and believe me, that's saying something."

 

Of course he wasn't going to mention it was Viper who'd brought it to his attention—it was too much fun needling his new friend, and no one needed to know he'd been so caught up in romancing Tigress he might not have noticed if Po had started dressing up in a _cheongsam._

_Oh gods…why did I have to go there? Someone kill me now, please…or at least murder my imagination._

 

Both to drive such thoughts from his head, and because he was as grateful for her appearance and that she'd stood up for him as he was for Crane, Tai Lung turned then and immediately kissed Tigress…even more passionately, lovingly, and lustfully than before. For a long moment, he heard nothing but his own pulse pounding in his ears, and then the intertwined purrs of himself and his feline mate. Then, gradually, he became aware of a sound behind him…what sounded like—distant thunder?

 

Managing to tear himself away from Tigress, he turned—and saw, to his surprise, that a large number of villagers were standing and watching him. And while the majority of them still seemed shocked and horrified by what they had said and done, or at least uncomfortable seeing the former scourge of the Valley and the leader of the Furious Four puckering up, a good third were openly smiling and actually applauding. There was even the occasional cheer or a hat whirled around in celebratory fashion in the air here and there. _Well, what do you know…_

 

Glancing at the Jade Palace contingent, he was not surprised, on the other paw, to see Mei Ling whooping at the top of her lungs, Viper whistling between her fangs, and even Shifu gazing with all the serenity of an ancient patriarch while he clapped politely.

 

When all the hubbub had died down, Mei Ling was the first to speak. "Whoa, _nice_ one, big guy! Looks like I'm going to be the one getting pointers from you now, eh?" She nudged Crane's shoulder, which only made the waterfowl blush even deeper.

 

Even as the snow leopard was on the verge of buffing his knuckles on his creamy white chest fur and making some clever, knowing remark, the sound of a staff on the cobblestones accompanied a clearing throat, and Tai Lung couldn't help cringing a little as he glanced at the approaching Ning Guo. The goat stopped at the bottom of the gibbet steps, peering up at him in mingled exasperation and amusement. "Goodness gracious! If you're going to be doing much more of that, sonny, I'm going to have to give you a monthly discount at my shop!"

 

As everyone else was laughing, even (and most especially, to his chagrin) Tigress, the snow leopard rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yes, er, about that. I'm afraid I'm going to be needing…a bit more of your herbs. Can't very well use what got spilled on a dirty kitchen floor…but I don't have any more money on me…"

 

"Are you saying my friend Ping doesn't maintain a clean kitchen?" Ning retorted, but then he chuckled and grinned, spreading his hooves in a magnanimous gesture. "Not to worry, young man. Consider it a gift, it's not your fault the first batch got spoiled. Let me just get back to my stock, and I'll catch up with you and give you a replacement pouch by the time you get back to the palace."

 

Suiting actions to words, the apothecary turned and shuffled off through the streets with his typical spry gait and an almost jaunty tapping of his walking stick. Tai Lung watched him go with amazement, confusion, and a slight bit of awe. He'd never met anyone like the fellow…never believed someone like him could live in the Valley. How many others like him might there be, never encountered, dismissed from his mind because they'd been simple peasants and farmers rather than kung fu warriors?

 

He didn't know…but now, at last, he might get to find out. Now, with the truth he was not a killer finally lodged in their minds, with everyone coming out of a fog of manipulation and hate they couldn't help but realize had been induced and forced upon them by some unknown, malevolent spirit, with so many standing by him and giving testimonials on his behalf—with all of this, the Valley of Peace might finally be willing to forgive him. And just as importantly, he could finally forgive himself.

 

Feeling more pleased with and proud of himself than he remembered being in a very long time, the snow leopard turned back to face out across the square. Most of the people were slowly but surely dispersing, milling about uncertainly and shooting him deeply-ashamed glances before departing with quiet sobriety to head home or go back to their daily chores. The guards, looking both disappointed and puzzled, were helping some of the older members of the community safely away, and Fu Xiao, he saw with some satisfaction, was literally still on his knees, begging forgiveness from Shifu and saying he didn't know what came over him. _That has a very familiar ring to it._ Viper was chatting merrily with Crane and Mei Ling, and Xiulan…

 

He paused, exchanging a long, solemn look with Tigress. Somehow it did not matter how close he had come to death or madness, to falling under the sway of evil, or that this woman had been at the heart of it. In the end, she had been as much a victim as anyone else, if not more so…she had lost so much, been through such tragedy, and if he thought about it the right way, it _was_ all his fault. He had certainly killed Dishi, and it was because of the bitterness and hate this engendered in her that she'd been such a prime target for Chao. Even Zhuang's death probably would not have happened if he hadn't befriended Tai Lung.

 

Everything Xiulan had suffered could either be laid at his door, or was due to circumstances she'd brought on herself in her desire for revenge. There was a lesson there…but he was no one to judge her, not by any means. She certainly didn't deserve to lose everything just because of her ill-informed beliefs about him…and now little Yi had no father. For that matter, Wei Chang had lost his sight and his son for very similar reasons.

 

Heian Chao, in attempting to obtain Tai Lung's service, had inadvertently taught the feline's detractors a lesson…but so terrible, so twisted, and so immoral that he could not condone it. In a weird, sick way, he had done Tai Lung a favor—but the ex-convict could not be happy for or appreciate it. In fact, he was left to pick up the pieces and do damage control…

 

That decided him. After one last firm glance at Tigress, he crossed over to where the cow woman still knelt on the planks, softly sobbing while she clutched the piece of Zhuang's _ru_ to her chest as if it were the only thing she had left to connect her to her husband, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. When he approached, she looked up—and while the expected anger was in her dark eyes, there was also something that had never been there before: regret, sorrow, and self-loathing.

 

"I know you didn't do this," she choked out bitterly. "But don't expect me to forgive, or to forget. My life is over now, and while you might not have caused it…you damn well didn't help, either."

 

Tai Lung gazed down at her, then impulsively went down on one knee beside her. Unsurprisingly, she cringed back, but he didn't move toward her, only staring at her sympathetically. "It isn't over," he said softly, choosing to ignore what could not be denied, what could never be changed. "You still have Yi. She loves you and needs you. If there's one thing I've learned since Po defeated me, it's that there is a damn well lot to live for besides vengeance. Love. Hope. Friendship. Making a difference. And family. Above everything else, family. I've got one now…you still have one too."

 

He paused. "And while I know this is a hell of a lot to ask, I'd be happy to help you with Yi, anytime you like. Zhuang was my friend—helping look after his daughter is the least I can do after all that's happened. I don't expect you to say yes. I understand…you have every right to hate me. More and more lately, I've been hating myself. But…if you need it, the offer's there."

 

Xiulan looked up at him, a riot of conflicting emotions on her face—skepticism, disbelief, wonder, fury, resentment, but at the last, understanding and acceptance. "I'm sorry." Her voice was soft, still with an undertone of viciousness, but also extremely tired…and somewhat lost. "I was so willing…to believe the worst of you. I can't forgive you, not yet. I don't even know if I ever can. But I had forgotten something, something very important. Something my husband kept trying to tell me…but I refused to hear."

 

"What's that?" the snow leopard said gently, even as he felt, oddly, as if he were on the opposite side of one of his usual conversations with Oogway, with himself in the old master's role.

 

"That for all you've done, how much you've hurt the Valley, and me…you're still a person." The seamstress sighed and looked away. "One who can think and feel…who has a heart, and makes mistakes, and tries to make up for them. If what everyone who spoke today said is true, you have changed, or are trying to. I…should not be making that harder for you. If I don't want what happened twenty years ago to happen again, I should be helping you, or at least not standing in your way." She paused, then looked back with a firm directness and ferocity that, as always, startled him. "The one who made me believe you did it…who clouded my mind. He's real? This dark, amorphous evil…he's not just some figment of Shifu's imagination?"

 

Tai Lung shook his head, growling softly. "I'm afraid not. I haven't yet set eyes on him, which is why he's still counted among the living, but I've…felt his presence. He's quite real. He's the one who made Vachir commit all those murders. He's out to corrupt me…and to destroy and control us all." Just thinking about it made him crack his knuckles and long to rip Chao to shreds with his bare paws and claws.

 

She shook her head, some of her fiery nature returning as she glared in the direction of the palace and the peach tree. "I can't believe it…" For a moment he thought she was still denying the truth, until he realized she was only commenting on the sheer impossibility of the situation. "How could this be happening? How could Oogway have allowed this? Why didn't he stop this Chao while he was still alive?"

 

That was a very good question, and one he intended to ask the turtle the next time he spoke to his ghost. But before he could try and come up with a diplomatic answer, Xiulan looked back at him and narrowed her eyes. "Never mind. Just tell me this: the ones who took my Zhuang from me, and framed you for their crime…they were the Wu Sisters? And they were also the ones who tried to kill the Dragon Warrior?"

 

Uncertain where she was going with this, he only nodded.

 

Xiulan scowled, roughly wiped away her tears, and gave him an even fiercer, blazing glare. "Then I want you to get them for me, find them wherever they're hiding and kill them. Avenge Zhuang, make them pay…give me the vengeance I want."

 

Instantly he knew the right thing to say: reaching out to gently rest a paw on her shoulder, he shook his head slightly. "No, I'll do better than that. I'll get you _justice_."

 

She paused, silent, for a long time, but then slowly, firmly, she nodded and managed a real, if tight, smile. "Yes. Do that." She flicked her eyes to Tigress, who had wisely stayed silent all this time—or perhaps she was simply exhausted. "I am…sorry for the things I said to you, Master Tigress. To all of you. I…didn't mean them."

 

Tigress furrowed her brows, looking uncomfortable but also determined. "Yes you did, Mrs. Shen. I have experience with Heian Chao myself, though I didn't realize it at the time. And while it's true he made me say things to Master Shifu, as well as to Tai Lung, that I didn't want to and wasn't ready to say, they were still things I felt and believed. He just…encouraged me to be more loose with my tongue, you might say." She glanced at the snow leopard, then back to Xiulan. "That doesn't mean we don't forgive you, though. Beliefs can be mistaken, feelings can be wrong. As long as you realize that, things will get better."

 

Apparently not trusting herself to speak, the seamstress only lowered her gaze and twisted her hands around the swatch of Zhuang's shirt in her lap. Then, sighing, she rose to her feet, tucked the piece of fabric into her belt, and moved toward the steps. There she stopped and looked back, clearly debating with herself before speaking. Her words were slow and halting, but nonetheless clear and strong.

 

"Perhaps…I was wrong. If you can stop the Wu Sisters, if they can be punished so Zhuang can rest, then perhaps I can believe you really are a good man who will not bring us harm again. As for what you asked…yes, once this is over…you can see Yi. She's been asking for you…and she'll need…all the love and support I can give her now. Not more rules and limitations." Nearly on the verge of tears again, Xiulan nevertheless kept her back stiff and proud, her head held high as she turned and descended the steps, disappearing into the crowd.

 

Tai Lung watched her go with an odd sense of approval—she was handling this with as much dignity and forthrightness as possible under the circumstances and giving him an extremely lenient benefit of the doubt compared to her previous behavior. But more than this, she was a brave and strong-willed woman and a good mother. He knew she would do right by Yi even without a man to support her…and he would do all he could to help her with that. He'd spend the rest of his life making it up to Xiulan, giving back to her after all he had taken away…

 

"Come on," Tigress suddenly said at his side, slipping her arm into his. "Let's go home, get everyone's injuries looked at. Especially yours."

 

No one tried to stop them—all those who weren't still shell-shocked and trying to recover from the number Chao had pulled on them had been unequivocally convinced of his innocence, not just by Master Ning's testimony and the evidence Crane had brought but by Xiulan's acceptance of it. And after what everyone had become under Chao's influence, the things they had said and done, the manner in which they had behaved—no better, in some ways, than how Tai Lung had behaved under the same power—to condemn him now would be incredibly hypocritical.

 

So in due time, the five masters accompanied him up the slopes of the Jade Mountain toward the palace that was indeed his home again—Tigress carrying Viper once more, Crane and Shifu speaking softly (for all he knew, about the appropriateness of two different species, or an avian and a feline in particular, openly becoming an item), and Mei Ling supporting Tai Lung on his injured side.

 

It was slow going thanks to the mostly untended arrow wound and the awful bruises and swellings his beatings had given him. But it was also because of the sedation of opium that still lingered in his system and seemed to be gaining strength again after the fading of his adrenaline surge. As a result, it was past sundown and heading into twilight before they finally passed through the tournament arena and were climbing the last set of steps, and the effects of the drug were making his vision fuzzy…and his thoughts more than a little loopy.

 

By the time the snow leopard had not only apologized at least five times for threatening Shifu's life in his cell in order to escape—never mind he hadn't meant it and the red panda knew it—but also taken to calling him 'Baba' and trying to hug his father repeatedly with a decidedly goofy grin on his face, everyone was both rather concerned and also amused.

 

However, when Tai Lung started begging Viper to ribbon-dance for him so he could learn how, observed Crane needed to get some meat on his 'skinny little legs', and told Shifu in all seriousness that his queue was a 'goofy little braid' that he'd always wanted to cut right off, everyone agreed the feline needed to be detoxified as soon as possible…and somewhere inside his fogged, unfocused brain, Tai Lung himself was absolutely mortified by his behavior.

 

Just as they reached the last few steps before the palace terrace, Tai Lung finally started demanding to know what had happened while he was in prison—why Ping hadn't come to his defense when he really needed the silly bird for more than noodle soup that was to die for, where Tigress had been so long and why she'd felt a need to run away when he'd needed _her_ by his side, too, and how both she and Viper had gotten injured.

 

And so, reluctantly—he supposed because they were afraid he'd try to go racing off again and get himself in even more trouble—Shifu explained about the note he and Crane had found, and Tigress related the story Po had told in the bunkhouse the night before, the message from Chun regarding the goose's kidnapping, and the decision to head off to Wu Dan to rescue him and take care of the sisters once and for all.

 

Shifu seemed almost as furious and disbelieving as Tai Lung would have been if he'd been in the right state of mind—at the Sisters for perpetrating such a dastardly plot, at Chao for daring to think he could remove the Dragon Warrior from the picture, and at Tigress for supporting Po in his foolhardy, life-threatening choice to face the snow leopardesses again instead of staying in the Valley where they'd been badly needed.

 

And to be fair, the snow leopard was indeed angry—at an innocent and harmless villager and one so dear to Po being caught up in this siege, and at Tigress for putting herself in mortal peril again…when she had promised the panda she would do no such thing, and when he hadn't been there to aid and protect her. Of course, Po coming to her in the middle of the night could be considered tacit permission, even a request to go face danger, and this time she hadn't run off all by herself, but still...

 

Somehow, though, the spotted feline couldn't get up the gumption to reprimand her or wax eloquent on the Wu Sisters' vile, repulsive nature, nor even launch into a diatribe against the Dragon Warrior for being far too impulsive and temperamental—like his teacher, he realized guiltily—when he wasn't ready yet.

 

Instead, he could only lean on Mei Ling and Tigress, one arm around each set of feminine shoulders, and proclaim in a loud, rude, and slightly slurred voice, "Where's my buddy then, eh? If that's why he wasn't there to help prove me innocent…where's Po now? I demand to see a fat, black-and-white, fuzzy panda, _right_ this instant, or so help me there'll be _hell_ to pay!"

 

As if on cue, the sound of huffing, puffing breath came from behind them on the stairs. Tai Lung twisted around—wished he hadn't, as the motion stretched his bandaged side painfully—and looked down the slope. There, just heaving into view, was the muscular but still mostly pudgy form of the Dragon Warrior, accompanied by the tiny goose Ping looking haggard, worried, and rather ill at ease, as if he'd heard or said something that had made him sick to his stomach. Or perhaps he was simply food-deprived after being taken from his restaurant before dinner was finished.

 

Po, though also looking tired, slightly distraught, and emotionally wrung-out, was strangest because of his appearance—as in, the fact he was literally draped in limp, nearly unconscious snow leopardesses as if they were a new form of fashion statement worn by the ladies in the Imperial Palace.

 

When he reached the stone porch where the others waited, the panda stopped, gasping for breath and rather looking as if he wished his arms weren't full so he could bend over and lean on his knees—or perhaps collapse on the ground. He took one look at Tai Lung, at his bandaged and bleeding side, dirty and disheveled clothing, sweaty and unkempt fur, and glazed, unfocused eyes.

 

The snow leopard in turn flicked his gaze over the bloody slashes across Po's chest, stomach, and arms, his badly bruised side, the mud caked in his fur, and what looked like a black eye (ironically enough) forming in the white fur around his already black-ringed eye. Then, at the same time, they both blurted out:

 

"What happened to _you_?"

                                                                      

* * *

 

A bustle of activity overtook the Jade Palace after that, as there was so much more to deal with than they'd expected. On the one hand, all those injured in the fight with the Wu Sisters needed to be treated and looked after, as did the beaten, battered snow leopard who both had an arrow wound to tend before it became infected and a hallucinogenic drug to get out of his system. Then there was the Wu Sisters themselves, who had to be placed somewhere secure until something more permanent could be done with them; since it had done so well for both Tai Lung and Monkey, Shifu saw no reason not to put them in yet another storeroom beneath the temple.

 

Lastly, aside from sharing stories and learning what had transpired both on Wu Dan and in the village, both Mei Ling and Tigress (for different reasons but with equal fervency) were determined to interrogate the assassins to learn all they could from them—about Heian Chao, what he could do, where he could be found, how he could be defeated.

 

Yet Shifu already knew that even if the snow leopardesses would give such information, and could be trusted to do so truthfully (neither a sure option), there was a much more likely way to learn all they needed to know. Master Oogway had been the one to first speak of the _chi_ wizard to Tai Lung…and something in what his son had told him of that conversation suggested the turtle had personal knowledge of the mage.

 

Even if that were wishful thinking, the fact he knew so much implied there might be records of Chao's existence, that his story might be hidden somewhere in the vast stores of scrolls here at the palace. In fact, now that matters were calmer and he could think about something besides saving Tai Lung, the red panda was _positive_ he had read of Chao, or someone with his abilities, somewhere before…

 

So he had taken the opportunity, while the others were preoccupied with locking the Sisters up and gathering supplies and herbs for medical treatment, to slip away and head to the scroll room. It was not just that he feared another attack by their enemy—although he did. Any sane person would. He had not allowed himself to give in to his fear during the trial, it had not been the time to panic with his son's life and freedom on the line; now that Tai Lung was safe, for the moment, and the Valley was freed of Chao's influence—again, for the time being—he could afford to shut down and give in to his terror and helplessness.

 

Except that was not Shifu's way. Always proactive, forthright, and determined— _Fine, I'm a stubborn old bastard, I admit it! Happy now?_ —he had always taken the direct route, the clear path, and plowed his way through any and all obstacles with a tenacity, strength, and decisiveness which seemed far too powerful and staggering for one of his small frame. Oogway had never been able to wean him of these habits, and while a case could be made that this had contributed to his mistakes with Tai Lung and Tigress, just now such traits were not only admirable, they just might be the key to ending Heian Chao's threat forever.

 

No matter how comforting it might be to relax, to accept at face value the fact they had won a major victory today, he knew now was not the time to quit. No matter how smug Shifu had been after hearing that scream of rage and frustration, so obviously made by Heian Chao, he very much feared that matters would only get worse. He didn't know how they possibly could…but after losing Vachir, losing the Wu Sisters, and now losing this last desperate gambit against Tai Lung, he suspected whatever Chao did next, it would be something truly horrific on a grand scale.

 

The only way to stop it was to learn Chao's weaknesses and exploit them—to go on the offensive, take the fight to him, and eliminate him while he was still smarting from his defeat, still recovering from the cleansing of the Sacred Pool. It was unexpected, it was something the wizard could never predict—and it fit precisely with Shifu's usual method of operation. He was not one to hide and cower, nor to crouch down behind a defensive bulwark and wait for the army to come to him. He much preferred to flush the enemy out, find him where he lived, attack him with every bit of force, passion, and righteousness he could muster. If it killed him, at least he would go down fighting rather than caught napping in his bed.

 

He was tired of sparring with shadows, both literally and figuratively. He was tired of being confused, frightened, and stymied. He was simply tired of not _doing_ anything. That was why he was determined to find answers. To put an end to this whole siege at last. To prevent Chao from making another insane attempt to rule their lives and bring the empire down. And most of all, to make him pay for what he had done.

 

The litany of Chao's crimes was long and familiar to all of them, but this most recent one seemed the worst to Shifu. To kill an innocent man who had been one of the most generous, caring people the panda had ever met, aside from Po…frame Tai Lung for his murder…manipulate the townspeople into turning on him and believing these lies…and come that close to taking away his son again, after he'd finally gotten him back, finally brought out the goodness and nobility that he'd known were in the snow leopard's heart.

 

It wasn't just the twisted cruelty, appalling wickedness, or awful danger of this plot that upset Shifu. It was true that if Chao had succeeded, Tai Lung would have become an even worse monster than before and, if anyone in the Valley had survived his second rampage at all, they might never have recovered from it. But the fact this had been directed at his only son…that now that they finally understood each other, had reconnected, were enjoying a better and more loving relationship than they had since his cubhood, the wizard dared to shatter this for his own selfish ends—it made Shifu see red. Now it was personal—and if he had to tear apart the whole damned scroll room, and then the Imperial Palace for good measure, he would find out how to kill Chao.

 

And he hoped it would be as painful, torturous, and agonizing as possible. The Dragon Warrior had to have a pure heart and soul, and if he killed at all it would have to be in self-defense and without malice. Shifu had no such strictures. It was why he hadn't been given the scroll—and right now, he didn't care. He didn't need it, or anything else…he would kill Chao with his bare hands if he had to.

 

Unfortunately, learning anything at all about the wizard, let alone how to defeat him, proved to be far more difficult than he'd anticipated. It wasn't that the scroll room was that disorganized—in one of the few ways in which Oogway had not been scatterbrained and vague, he had always insisted that the codification of knowledge be approached methodically, extensively, and carefully, and while some of his choices in arranging the texts had been a bit…whimsical, in the end everything did follow a system and could always be found where the records said it was. Shifu had been quite strict about this with Tai Lung as he'd studied the thousand scrolls of kung fu, maintained the practice with the Five, and enforced it with a vengeance when the clumsy, chaotic Po began training in earnest.

 

No, the problem was that Shifu had no idea where to start looking for information, since he hadn't the faintest clue in what capacity he might have read of Chao before. Could it have been analyses of old military campaigns? Treatises on mythology that described all the denizens of Di Yu? Legends of famous kung fu masters, past and present? This last seemed especially frustrating to the panda, since he had been sure the _chi_ wizard must have been renowned as a warrior and master of kung fu at some time in the past, perhaps had even trained as a student in one of the academies…or the Jade Palace…and so his name would be on the rosters, somewhere.

 

He didn't know if he was simply looking in the wrong places, or if the tale had not been set to ink and parchment—or had, but then was later destroyed as Chao's evil grew in strength and horror, rather like Tai Lung's heroic deeds were after he committed his rampage. But whatever the reason, no matter how long and hard he searched, he continually came up empty-handed.

 

After an hour or two of increasingly frantic pawing through the records, during which the setting of the sun and the descent of the scroll room into darkness did not at all deter him—for he simply lit the lamps and continued searching—Shifu finally flopped down on a stool in defeat. Tired and sweaty, he wiped his brow with the back of his hand, ran it over his face, and stared dully at the towering wooden shelves, the piles of rolled-up parchment and silk surrounding him and spilling down from their cubbyholes, and the cracks in the stone wall with equal resentment.

 

" _Damn_ it!" Striking the floor with Oogway's staff, he let out a groan of defeat and slumped forward, resting his forehead on the stick's wooden knob and closing his eyes briefly. "I _know_ it's here…how do I keep missing it? Where am I not looking?"

 

From somewhere beside and behind him, a throat cleared suggestively, and then a lilting, somnolent voice spoke up, gently instructive. "I do believe what you're looking for is there, my friend." A stubby-clawed hand pointed at a scroll not far from the panda's elbow, one more ancient and crumbling than any other in the room.

 

"Oh, thank you, Master Oogway," Shifu said absently as he snatched up the scroll in question so he could eagerly peruse its contents. "What would I ever do without—" He broke off as the true magnitude of what he had seen and heard sank in, and even the possibility of finding out the full story about Heian Chao wasn't a strong enough lure to keep his eyes on the parchment. Wrenching his head up, he whirled about to gaze in shock and wonder, as well as more than a little consternation. "Master Oogway?"

 

Indeed, there was the old turtle looking just as he had in life, though hovering a few inches off the floor and giving off a saintly, violet-pink light—in fact his image seemed to be formed completely from floating peach blossom petals, including the hand he'd used to indicate the scroll, how could he have missed that? Shifu didn't know which surprised him more—Oogway's appearance, the fact he was here at all, or that he had come now rather than sooner. This last also couldn't help but make him more than a little miffed.

 

"Yes," his master replied, his soft and soothingly gentle voice so very familiar it almost brought tears to Shifu's eyes, even as it somehow made everything oddly reassuring, as if just knowing Oogway was still around and still watching over him made everything all right. "I am here, old friend. As I have always been, waiting for just the right moment."

 

Narrowing his eyes flatly, the panda didn't see a better opportunity than this. "And what moment was that? If you were here all along, and could have shown up at any time, why didn't you? What were you waiting for? Where were you when all those people were dying, when Vachir almost killed us all, when the Wu Sisters did kill Zhuang, when Tai Lung was almost executed?"

 

By the time he'd finished his barrage of demanding questions, even though he'd fought against it, he had risen to his feet again and his voice had risen to a distinct, angry shout. It wasn't that he believed there was anything the dead could do to help the living, it was the simple fact of knowing Oogway had been watching all along and helpless to prevent events from coming to pass. It made him as frustrated and furious as Chao's continued elusiveness did.

 

The turtle didn't react badly, raise his voice, or show any emotion at all save for a vague disappointment and sorrow—not just with his old student, Shifu sensed, but with himself. But then he never had allowed himself displays of temper and passion while alive, why should that change now? In fact just the idea of Oogway becoming angry, since the Grand Master had always had such self-control, was rather frightening to contemplate. Far better that he retain his calm and poise…

 

"What I was waiting for, Shifu, was for the pall of shadow to be lifted, for the dark _chi_ that had been growing in strength and power ever since Tai Lung's escape to at last be rent asunder and thus allow me the chance to slip through the cracks."

 

"What…? I don't—"

 

"I had great power in life, my student, and just as much in death, but I am not omnipotent." Oogway paused, and a surprising note of satisfaction entered his voice. "No more than Chao is…his skill with _chi_ is such that I could only influence things in small ways…placing my essence within my staff on the night of the full moon, when light was at its strongest and the feminine Yin of night outweighed the aggression and passion of masculine Yang—in Tai Lung but also in others.

 

"It was this that let me shield Tai Lung somewhat from Chao, and in turn influence the _chi_ of those he came in contact with. But I could do no more than this, I was shut out and left as a mere observer…until Vachir was freed by your son's mercy, until Monkey was himself again, and especially until Po cleansed the Pool of Sacred Tears. While Chao is not yet defeated, and will in fact never relent, never end his quest for domination, his power has now been broken. Enough, at least, for me to come to you now…while I have the chance, while he rages and flails about in futility, once more alone and with none to support him…"

 

Shifu let out a long, shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding—not only expelling his anger since Oogway's explanation did in fact make a clear amount of sense, but also shuddering with the understanding the turtle had given him. To think that only the snow leopard's personal oath to repair Oogway's staff had made it possible for the Grand Master to aid them…and that it was through both of their _chi_ that the Jade Palace had not been consumed by the darkness and they'd won the victories they had…

 

It was highly ironic that the very one who had caused so much harm to the Valley, upon whom Heian Chao was fixated, and for whose sake so much evil and suffering had come about, was also the one who had repeatedly saved them. Ironic, but somehow fitting. Yet all could still be for naught, he could still fall under the wizard's sway, or they could simply be overwhelmed by Chao's power, if something was not done. And unless he missed his guess, the reason Oogway had come to him now was to make sure none of that happened—to give them something to work with, some key to find, confront, and destroy the mage.

 

Glancing down at the scroll to which his master had directed him, the panda squared his shoulders and then looked the lambent, shimmering shade right in the eye as best he could. "And what is it you have come to tell me, Master? Anything you have to say will be helpful at this point, and I will always be guided by you. But I get the feeling you have some personal stake in this. Is there…something I should know?"

 

Oogway sighed like the wind in the mountain pines, then gestured to the parchment. "Yes…many things. To begin with, Heian Chao is a name he chose for himself, not his given name—not completely. When I first knew him, long ago, he was known, as he was since birth…as Xun Chao. From a distinguished, noble lineage: a great line of warriors, monks, and servants of the Emperor, protectors of Tibet as well as the lowlands. I believed in him, had such high hopes for him, felt him capable of greatness and honor as his name implied…as you did with Tai Lung. The first of many parallels between their lives, I am afraid—some occurring by chance, and others deliberately induced." He paused. "If you examine that, much will be made clear."

 

Slowly and cautiously, uncertain what he would see as well as careful not to damage the fragile material, Shifu unrolled the scroll and peered down at its exposed surface. It took him several moments, even in the light of both lamps and spiritual sending, to decipher what was written there, since the ink had faded to near illegibility and blended in with the parchment. Eventually, however, he recognized the handwriting as Oogway's—unsurprising—and that it seemed to be a list of names. A roll call?

 

The first hanzi characters were those for Xun Chao…but it was the ones which followed the mage's old name that startled, then troubled Shifu. _Gou Cheng. You Li and You Min. Ochir. Jin Hu. Hou Kuan, Hou Xiong, and Hou Sudu._

 

Looking up with astonishment, disbelief, and confusion, the panda at last found his voice. "But…these are your students, Master. The first class of the Jade Palace—the oldest, the most legendary. Master Dog…Masters Twin Weasels…Master Flying Rhino…Master Iron Ox…and the Three Lions, who fought with the Sword of Heroes their blacksmith brother forged from their weapons."

 

Oogway looked sadder, more despondent, depressed, and regretful, than he had ever seen him—and considering how aged and wrinkled the old turtle was, so that the lines of his face formed such an expression naturally, that was saying something. "That would be because Xun Chao was also one of them. My brightest and best student. And just as Tai Lung failed you, Chao failed me…only far worse, and his fall into evil was far more terrible and complete."

 

Stunned into silence, Shifu felt his legs give out from under him; luckily, the stool was still behind him to catch him.

 

Jaw hanging open, mouth working soundlessly, and eye twitching, the panda could only listen as the aged reptile's ghost floated serenely to his side and began to speak again…quiet, resigned, even despairing, as if he were referring to someone long dead who was lost forever. "He was a good man once, of course. Even when we receive bad karma from a previous life, no one is born evil. Absolutely brilliant mind, a keen strategist and tactician. A fair hand at artistry too, not that it matters now." Oogway's enormous eyes looked even more mournful. "Intelligent, clever, sophisticated, a voracious reader, and a perfect grasp of mythology and philosophy. Not to mention, the best master of Eagle Claw I've ever trained."

 

He paused at Shifu's surprised look. "Oh yes, he studied kung fu as well. It was how he began my instruction, as most who came to the Jade Palace to learn did. He did not believe in such crude, brute force, but he put up with it because I had promised him the greatest and most powerful of mystical secrets, if he would properly discipline his mind and heart to prepare for it. So I taught him the more finessed and nuanced form of Eagle Claw, which satisfied him…for a while."

 

"He wanted power, then?" Shifu finally found his voice. "More than was safe, more than you were willing to teach him? Why?"

 

Something dark and troubled passed over the turtle's face; he almost swore the petals forming him became spotted with shadows, as if blighted and soon to shrivel into dead, blackened husks. "Would you believe it was because he was convinced he needed it to save the empire?"

 

"What?" The panda didn't know whether to be contemptuous and mocking, or to have a tiny glimmer of sympathy for his enemy…since once upon a time, all he had wished was to defend China, and he knew Tai Lung had as well.

 

Oogway glanced away, a deep pain gleaming in his spectral eyes. "Yes. How true it is that the road to one's own damnation is often paved with good intentions! Xun Chao had always been a model student—a perfect example of logic, calm, and self-control, so much so that his Yin always outweighed his Yang. Imbalance in a soul, especially a warrior's, is always cause for concern, but because of which side of him was stronger, I believed him not only safe, but eminently suitable as a role model and defender of the empire. I was wrong."

 

Shifu frowned and shifted a little on the stool; this was beginning to sound more and more familiar all the time. "I don't understand. How…?"

 

"You must understand, this was long ago, in the decades after I first settled here in the Valley," the turtle said urgently, as if anxious to place everything in perspective—though for whose sake, his own or Chao's, wasn't clear. "The empire was much more dangerous and wild back then. The borders constantly shifted, the last dynasty had ended in a veritable bloodbath, the barbarian hordes were at the gates, and the new emperor…well, let us say that he was not a paragon of virtue and peace. To be fair, there was no way he could be; the people needed a warrior to lead and protect them, not a poet or a pacifist. But in order to be strong, he had to be ruthless. Even to those he ruled."

 

At Shifu's raised eyebrow, Oogway waved a hand. "Do not ask me for specifics, it has little to do with my tale and my time here is short. But you can be certain that enforced conscription into the Imperial Army, and the appropriation of massive stores of food for his soldiers, were among the most civilized of the emperor's actions. What made this all worse was, it could all be justified by the dangers which beset China…and the emperor, for all his faults, was not a usurper like some both you and I can name. He had come to the throne legitimately, descended from one of the noble houses which had served the previous dynasty before it fell. So…as much as it rankled me to do so, I could not intervene.

 

"Xun Chao…did not approve of this. He believed something should be done to protect the rights of the people, to prevent the atrocities which occurred daily when anyone dared to denounce the emperor or refused to obey his callous commands, to put an end to the famine and suffering which accompanied the thievery of crops and the division of families from their menfolk. At the same time, he still knew the empire itself must be preserved from anarchy. He asked me for permission to begin studying the most advanced scrolls I had collected in my travels. As I said, I had promised him, when he first came to the Jade Palace, that I would train him in the deepest and most powerful of mystic arts, since he showed an astonishing aptitude for them. Even more so than Tai Lung did for kung fu…"

 

He shook his head, as if even now he could not help being amazed by the talents of his first student. "Chao could sense almost instantly what was wrong with a person's _chi_ , how to cure it of spiritual ills, and could even employ it to heal injuries and diseases which no physician could ever hope to. If he had not…become what he did, he would have been the greatest healer in the empire. Perhaps the world." Now Shifu knew there were tears in the aged turtle's eyes.

 

"I told him no…I told him he was not ready, and that in any event, the power involved was too great, too subversive, too corrupting. But he did not believe me, he did not listen…the one flaw he possessed, at least which I would allow myself to see, was that he was far too arrogant. He believed his way to be right, and in fact the only way, and nothing could dissuade him from his course once his mind was set. He believed I was holding him back on purpose, that I did not trust him or believe him strong enough to handle this power, that I was denying him greatness and the chance to save China…to make it as he was certain it should be…because I believed myself superior to him, because I wished to be the savior of the empire in his place.

 

"He did not bother with the Dragon Scroll—which he had not only witnessed me writing but helped me to create, infusing it with the _chi_ that would enable the warrior who read it, and truly understood its meaning, to achieve impossible and miraculous feats of kung fu simply because he had the will and heart and belief for it." As Shifu sat up straight and held out a hand in dismay, letting out a strangled cry—after everything he and Po had been through together, after they had both learned to understand the secret of the scroll and what a true kung fu warrior could do without mystical enhancement, after Tai Lung had also been disabused of the notion and learned to seek something different, there truly _was_ a power in it?—Oogway cut him off with another gentle wave.

 

"Do not trouble yourself, Shifu. Once the _chi_ became one with the parchment, it could no longer be controlled or influenced by Chao. And now that it is one with Po, he is also beyond Chao's power to manipulate." If he knew he had misunderstood the reason for Shifu's concern, the turtle showed no sign of it, although the panda had to admit to relief over what he _had_ revealed—that particular ramification hadn't even occurred to him.

 

"In any event…no, my pupil instead studied other scrolls, more ancient and complex and mysterious still, until at last he found what he sought, or so he believed. The secret to ultimate power. The key to bringing down the emperor, and enforcing his own will on the Imperial City so as to protect and guide the people to what he was certain would be beneficial ends."

 

"What went wrong?" Shifu said quietly. "Did he read the wrong scrolls? Misunderstand, or mistranslate, them?"

 

Oogway shook his head. "No, he was correct. But in his zeal and pride, he forgot the most basic lesson, which applies to kung fu, to _chi_ , and to life itself: the lesson of the Yin-Yang. Always there are two sides to everything, a light and a dark, a good and an evil. What is more unfortunate and often leads to ruin is that the two can look alike…what one believes is moral, and right, and proper, is in fact quite the opposite. In reading these scrolls, Chao unlocked great strength within him indeed. But he also unlocked something else…a knowledge, and a hunger, for power. It became insatiable, possessing him utterly.

 

"He could not stop; he had to have more, to know all, he would not rest until he knew everything there was to know. He would not eat, he would not sleep. He became a gaunt wraith haunting the palace, a shadow even before he was one in truth. But nothing could deter him, he was adamant that his will was supreme, that he would control what he had unleashed and use it for the betterment of the people. It was a noble aspiration…but wrong, and soon tainted by lust, cynicism, contempt, and malice. The more he learned, the more he believed himself intrinsically better than any other creature because only he understood all. Any who got in his way became first irritants, then outright enemies—or rivals who, in his madness, he believed were attempting to wrest the power from him.

 

"He feared losing it; he hated them for wanting it, for not aiding him, for not joining his righteous cause against the emperor, for simply being too weak and peaceful to do what needed to be done. Blinded by his arrogance, he was positive that anything and everything was both possible and permissible, if it would give him what he craved—more power, and the ability to fulfill his personal oath and make his 'dream of peace' come true. He could not see that the only peace he would bring was that of the grave—or perhaps he did see, and believed this preferable to the suffering and pain and loss that we all must deal with in life…"

 

The turtle fell silent, lost in his morose thoughts, for so many minutes after that that Shifu had believed his story finished. So after a few more moments, the panda cleared his throat and leaned forward on his stool. "That is terrible. Truly a tragic story." He tried to keep the stilted sarcasm out of his tone, and didn't think he'd succeeded; on the one hand, who Chao had once been and what had happened to him _was_ a sad tale, a definite testament to the road not taken if ever there was one.

 

And he had to admit that he saw far too much of himself, and of Tai Lung, in the Eagle Claw master, something which both deeply disturbed him and awoke some further measure of sympathy, even as it also explained a great deal. He already knew what the snow leopard was capable of in the name of his own sense of duty and fair play; what might Shifu himself have become, if he had let himself be consumed with correcting wrongs, changing the status quo, enforcing his will on the empire?

 

On the other hand, none of this changed what Chao had done, to the Valley, to Tai Lung, and to Shifu personally. None of it changed the fact the wizard still had to be stopped and eliminated. And if what Oogway said was true, the subversion of Xun Chao by the ancient scrolls he read meant that the good, well-intentioned, but misguided man he had once been was now long gone, as dead and turned to dust as his body would be (perhaps, actually was?) if he had not used _chi_ , presumably, to unnaturally extend his lifespan. So Shifu had no cause to feel sorry for his enemy—if anything, only for the man who had been lost, not the _thing_ which now dwelled within his crumbling shell and believed it still had a right to the name.

 

But that reminded him of another point. "I still don't understand how he became what he did, though. Or how he could even still be alive. He would have lived nearly a thousand years ago. How is this possible? Was he another turtle, like you?" For a moment he actually managed a tiny smile.

 

For a moment he thought some invisible line had been crossed, since Oogway still remained unnervingly silent. But then at last, the shade spoke…his tone slightly chiding but also gentle, regretful even as it was determined. "No, he was not. And you are quite correct…by all rights, he should have died long ago. But he would not let himself, his mastery of _chi_ has prevented his true death…as for what he became, and how…if you will follow me, I will show you, Shifu."

 

Something in those words seemed ominous and chilling, yet Shifu would not miss this for the world; he had to truly know his enemy, and what he was capable of, before he could track him down and face him. So, suiting actions to words, the panda rose from his seat and followed Oogway—for he also had to admit to some curiosity as to just where the spirit intended to take him. He hoped it was nowhere near the dormitory, he'd rather not have to explain what was going on to the other kung fu masters—and interrupting the turtle at this juncture was probably not wise.

 

He needn't have worried; after leading him silently from the scroll room and down the passages of the palace, the swirling petals of the sage's otherworldly form only floated into the Sacred Hall of Warriors before halting, coming to a stop beside a pillar so that both of them had an unobstructed view down the room's vast length to the shimmering surface of the Moon Pool. There, Oogway turned and looked intently at Shifu before, with a tiny shudder and a poignant sigh he closed his eyes, raised his face heavenward, and extended both hands out in divine supplication.

 

Even as Shifu was wondering if crossing over to the other side had unhinged Oogway completely, he began to notice—gradually at first, then with increasingly clarity—that the entire hallway was taking on a subtle, fuzzy, wavering cast…as if it were shifting out of focus, or becoming suffused by a holy light. In fact the hue of everything began to change, an odd greenish cast being lent to the moonlight, the normally crimson fires of the torches and braziers becoming viridian, almost as if the jade used to decorate the hall were now reflected in everything.

 

Within this hazy illumination, as if through a rain-spattered window onto the past, the panda could see equally ephemeral figures swimming into view, gathered all around the Moon Pool. Children, at least a score of them it seemed, ranging in age from three or four all the way up to nine or ten, both male and female, of varying species. He thought he saw a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed fox; several mountain cats like Mei Ling; a couple of wolves; an equine and a goat; and of course, the usual contingent of geese, rabbits, and pigs that populated the Valley.

 

From their manner of dress, each and every one of them was a student of kung fu, and while many were idly frolicking, playing, and otherwise cavorting in the spacious chamber, just as many were doing tai chi, practicing the forms, or meditating quite seriously. Watching them, Shifu couldn't help but be amazed and a little awed…as well as puzzled, as he had never seen so many students at the Jade Palace while he dwelled here. As he put this fact together with the reason Oogway chose to show him this vision, the panda felt his heart lurch in his chest and he took an involuntary step forward. _No. No, it couldn't be! He wouldn't have…_

 

But no matter how much he railed against it and wished it were not so, he could not change the truth of what he was seeing. Somehow, despite the darkness of night cloaking the hall, he had a sense of daytime warmly bathing the mountain outside…only to be abruptly filled with shadow by a figure that had clearly appeared in the doorway to block the sunlight. Several of the children looked up, startled, but while they seemed concerned and even worried, it seemed (as best he could judge) from distress over the expression or posture of the visitor, not his actual identity or presence.

 

This was confirmed when one of the older students, the fox, stiffened and adopted a recognizable kung fu stance—Viper style. "Master Xun? What is it, what's wrong? Has something bad happened?"

 

Slowly Shifu turned to look at the Jade Palace doorway. For a moment, all he saw was the heavy, closed portals…then, wavering into being to overlay them, a square of light, a view of the porch and the steps leading down—and standing quite still and almost unnaturally patient, the cloaked figure of the Eagle Claw master. The cloth was not black, but shades of brown and dark red, open to the floor to expose Chao's simple leather tunic, a knotted belt with what looked like a pair of Emei piercers and a claw bracer hanging from it, a Yin-Yang pendant around his neck…and his extremely slender, gray-feathered body with its clearly avian legs.

 

He stood no taller than Crane, in fact at least half a head shorter, and with the hood of his cloak thrown back, his proud, white-crested head was revealed. Bold, ink-dark eyes gleaming with intelligence and insight…sharply curved, incredibly vicious-looking raptor's beak…a thick neck ruff where the lighter feathers turned that deep, dark gray…and almost incongruously, the scholar's guan perched atop his head to give him an extra half-foot of height.

 

Even if it weren't for what Shifu knew about him, and the definite unease he felt in meeting those depthless sable eyes shining with hidden power, in seeing the twisted smirk that turned up at the corner of his beak, he would be wary and distrustful. For Heian Chao, their enemy and master of dark _chi_ , was a smoke-hued, rather exotic and rare, Amur falcon.

 

The tableau held for only a few moments more, and then Chao spoke. His voice, though surprisingly rumbling and deep for a bird, was not particularly menacing or disturbing in and of itself…but the words he uttered were terrifying in their import. "Yes, something is wrong in the capital, in the very heart of the empire. But I mean to remedy that, to snuff it out…and you all shall help me do it."

 

Some of the children blanched and backed away upon hearing this, while others, apparently believing themselves about to embark on a grand, heroic mission with the falcon master, actually cheered and hurried forward…but Chao seemed unaffected by all of it. His expression flat and unemotional, his eyes blank and empty, he merely gestured with one wing for them to gather closer…and when they had formed a large crowd around his feet and were begging to know what was going on, what he was going to do, and how they could help, he finally looked down at them.

 

At last a flicker of pity seemed to light in his eyes…but it was so faint, and so offset by the unholy fervor and determined ferocity, that it seemed more upsetting rather than less. "Forgive me, children," he said softly—but he hardly sounded sorry at all. "But I have need of this…more than you do…"

 

And withdrawing his piercers and bracer to fit them into place on his prehensile wing tips, he at once began laying into the kung fu students…starting with the very youngest.

 

Shifu stared, open-mouthed in horror. After only a few moments he had to forcibly avert his gaze from the bloody carnage, but he could not shut off his ears…the whimpers and cries, screams and moans, continued to ring and echo in the Sacred Hall, and each only added to the fires of vengeance, hatred, and despair burning in the panda's heart. Worst of all were the children whose voices he could hear quite clearly—some begged for mercy while others merely cried out in confusion, asking what they had done wrong or why he was doing this and receiving no answers in reply. Some offered prayers to the gods, and at least one actually asked for Chao to be forgiven!

 

Trembling violently, the panda turned and whirled about to glare at Oogway. Unsurprisingly, the turtle stood watching the scene with an agony of sorrow, suffering, and loss…as well as the deepest, most abiding anger he'd ever seen from his master. "Why are you showing me this? And—and—how could he _do_ this? You said he was a good man once…was what he read that corruptive, did it truly twist and pervert him that much? Children…" His voice broke.

 

"It did," Oogway said wearily, succinctly. "But it was more than this. What he discovered in the scrolls was that it was possible to unlock the greatest mystical secrets, and to augment one's _chi_ to unlimited proportions, by killing others in cold blood, killing the innocent. Not only is this a depraved and reprehensible act that quite literally places one beyond the bounds of what we would think of as traditional morality, but it allows one with the right power and understanding the ability to absorb another's _chi_ …to take it into oneself, and add it to one's own. Watch."

 

Although looking at the twisted scene of death and blood again was the last thing he wanted to do, somehow Shifu could not disobey. And when he looked back, he saw indeed that his master was right: whenever one of the little ones fell in a pool of their own life-essence, when their heart ceased to beat and their lungs were stilled, something seemed to shimmer in the air above them, a wavering and misty light barely discernible in the haze of the vision. It rose up, and Chao would intercept it, leaning forward to part his beak and inhale deeply…wing-feathers twitching and darting about in odd gestures while he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

 

At first he shuddered and nearly bent double whenever he partook of this spiritual substance, as if he were about to become violently ill…but then, gradually, he seemed to draw strength from it, to even receive an appalling thrill from it. Instead of bending over, he stood up straighter and taller with each infusion—literally, for he seemed to be gaining height and muscle mass at a slow but inexorable rate. And his expression became more euphoric, repugnant, and beatific as he feasted on the _chi_ he released—to Shifu's absolute disgust, he saw that the crotch of the falcon's trousers was becoming increasingly tighter, too.

 

Just as the last child fell to collapse in a pitiful heap on the marble floor, and just as he was about to demand Oogway end this awful vision, another massive shadow appeared to block the light from the Jade Palace doorway. A shadow with broad shoulders, rippling muscles, and an enormous rack of horns rising above his head. "Chao! _What do you think you're doing?_ "

 

For a wild moment, Shifu thought it was Shen Zhuang or perhaps one of his ancestors…but then, as the man stepped out of the blaze of sunlight into the darkened hall, it became clear he was an ox, not a bull…and then, catching sight of the tapestry on the wall (right through the shimmering figure, oddly), he recognized him at once. Jin Hu, the Iron Ox. And his heart sank right into the floor.

 

But the cruel events continued to play out before his eyes, as if they could not be stopped or silenced until the entirety of the true horror had been imparted to him. As he watched the memories unfold—which must have been raised somehow from the very walls of the palace, since Oogway himself was nowhere to be seen during these events—Hu stalked forward angrily, snorting billows of steaming breath as he brandished his iron fist. "Have you gone _mad_? The…the children! How could you… _no_ …"

 

"I did it," Chao said quietly, emotionlessly, "because I must. Because there was no other way. It is the only means by which I can stop the Emperor."

 

"What're you talking about? Stop him from what? And I don't care what he's done, you can't justify this! You can't kill children and think you'll get away with it…" Master Iron Ox swung his gauntleted fist at the falcon…but the bird easily sidestepped him, almost seeming to shimmer in mid-air so that he passed through the bodies as well as the nearest pillar.

 

While Hu whirled about to face him again, Chao glared…and Shifu was beginning to see a horribly familiar red gleam taking up residence in his eyes. "You don't get it, do you, you big lummox? _I have to stop him_! This is what I was born to do, the reason I exist, and I'll be damned if I let you stop me. You can't deny me my destiny! And anything, _anything_ , is justified if it brings an end to his tyranny!"

 

"No, it isn't," said another voice, this time from the hall leading toward the bunkhouse dormitory, and when Shifu turned he didn't know whether to cheer or groan in despair. A wrinkle-faced Shar Pei stood there, his paws tucked into the sleeves of his emerald robes, while the hilts of a pair of _pu dao_ , the Ninja Weapons which he had been gifted for saving Lady Lotus Blossom, rose above his shoulders. Behind him, the panda saw, each of the other legendary kung fu warriors was approaching, summoned by Master Dog, the sounds of battle, or the simple sensation in the air that something was quite wrong.

 

Masters Twin Weasels, dressed all in black but clad in Manchurian _ma gua_ rather like Tigress was wont to wear, save for sandals upon their feet and the Ring Blades hanging at their waists. The Three Lions, their pelts as gleaming gold and their burnished manes ranging in hue from honey to cinnamon to deep chestnut brown, looking like _shi_ statues come to life, each larger and more muscular than the last. And finally, looming even above them, the leathery gray figure of Flying Rhino—who Shifu saw to his shock was the spitting image of Vachir, save he lacked the dragon tattoo and his horn was quite intact. That, and he seemed to have a sense of nobility and dignity the commander had never had.

 

They all gathered close, joining Jin Hu in surrounding and menacing Chao, their expressions ranging from the outright anguish of the Three Lions (the youngest of whom looked on the verge of tears) to the stoic Ochir and the deadly intensity of Twin Weasels. But it was Gou who continued to speak, and despite the comical sight his wrinkled fur made as he talked, and the fact he was the shortest of the great masters, he was quite serious and invited no mockery—not even from Chao.

 

"I don't know where you got this idea, or what you hope to accomplish, but any rationale you might have put forward…that is erased by what you've done." A menacing growl ended this statement.

 

"Damn right!" Flying Rhino snapped, cracking his horny, callused knuckles, his fists easily as large as cannonballs. "You really think we're gonna let you walk outta here and go after the Emperor? Or, what, that we'd join ya? You aren't the guy we knew, not anymore. Oogway was right, he warned us this might happen. I didn't wanna believe him before, but now…I don't know you, Chao. I don't know what you've been readin', but ya must've gone nuts…"

 

Xun Chao made a scoffing sound, then stepped toward Ochir. Everyone, even the rhino, blinked when they saw how he had grown in size and strength. "I thought no such thing. I did not want it; I do not need it. This is my task, none need aid me…and none will defy me. For the sake of our long friendship and association, I ask that you stand aside for me, let me depart in peace." He paused, and the brief note of regret in his voice turned to something harder and colder than anything Shifu had ever heard; even Tai Lung at his worst had never sounded like this. "I will not ask again."

 

No one moved. Outside, the wind whistled on the mountaintop, the boughs of the juniper and ginkgo trees shook and tossed, and the sun still shone brightly. But inside the temple, a deeper and greater darkness seemed to descend over everyone. Twin Weasels grasped their Ring Blades; Master Dog loosened his Ninja Weapons in their scabbards; the Three Lions each brandished their signature weapons of broadsword, halberd, and dagger, muscles bulging and rippling beneath their garments. Then at last one of the two mustelids spoke, his voice quite venomous and suggestive. "I think I speak for all of us, when I say…not a chance."

 

Before the words had even fully left his mouth, Chao was moving—leaping to the side and twisting with a surprisingly sinuous motion as he caught the weasel by one arm in an Eagle Claw joint-lock. The same attack also jerked his arm to the side, so that the Ring Blade he'd been bringing to bear…was instead buried deeply in his brother weasel's throat, completely severing his jugular.

 

For a moment, everyone froze, staring in horror and shock. Then, as the weasel collapsed to his knees, clutching his throat vainly to try and keep his blood inside his body, the Three Lions each let out a thunderous, resonant roar and all of the kung fu masters turned as one to launch themselves at their former friend.

 

But Chao wasn't there anymore…with an odd blurring in the air, and the trailing of wispy black mist that could only be the first signs of his darkening _chi_ , the falcon flew with astonishing speed—or perhaps simply dissipated and reformed, as Vachir had in Chorh-Gom—until he swiped with his claw bracer and stabbed with his Emeici. The former slashed across the other weasel's unprotected belly, gutting him with an agonizing scream; the latter impaled Jin Hu deeply in one eye, all the way into his skull.

 

After that, the battle went by swiftly—mercifully so, as far as Shifu was concerned. Not only did Chao prove what a master of kung fu he was by so neatly dodging, darting about, and evading every attack made against him, as well as lay about him with his weaponry with deadly accuracy, but he also employed his _chi_ in all manner of unfair, cheating manners.

 

A blast of the shadowy substance sent Flying Rhino slamming back into the wall, pinning him there several feet off the floor; another wrapped around Hou Sudu's paw, wrenching it about and forcing him to stab his dagger right into his brother Kuan's heart; and still another seemed to surround and inhabit Xiong, making use of his righteous rage to possess him so that, in a wild and manic bloodlust, he slashed and sliced with his halberd with impunity.

 

He did manage to strike Chao several times in the side and leg, cutting him deeply so that the mage's blood soon soaked his robes…but more often than not, he only struck his fellow kung fu warriors instead, bringing down Sudu and Gou, cutting the hand off one of the weasels who was still struggling to fight, and driving his blade deep into Jin Hu's abdomen. With each mortal injury dealt, and as each kung fu warrior fell never to rise again, Chao seemed to grow in strength and size, towering even above Ochir, swelling until it seemed he would burst from his clothing…and so too grew the aura of darkness around him.

 

Even in the greenish eye of the vision, Shifu could see how it glittered and shimmered with ebony promise, gleaming like ink even as it seemed a portal into impossible depths of wickedness and evil, the entrance to a bottomless chasm…and it only grew to fill the Sacred Hall, leaching light and life from everything it touched, turning the bodies of the children into piles of pitiful, bleached bones that soon dissolved into dust, siphoning strength from the dying kung fu warriors until their muscles atrophied and they became only gaunt, shriveled husks of their former selves…

 

Finally, none were left save Flying Rhino, Master Dog, and Hou Xiong. As Chao allowed Ochir to fall ignominiously to the floor, only for him to scramble up again almost immediately and come rushing with a roar of blinding rage toward the falcon, he gestured with one wing. His eyes maddened by bloodlust and grief, yet still with enough cognizance to know just what was happening, what he was being made to do, the cinnamon-maned lion was jerked forward as if a puppet on strings, right into Flying Rhino's path.

 

Both screamed in the same instant: the curved blade of Xiong's halberd had embedded in Ochir's stomach, while the rhino's horn had similarly buried itself in the feline's chest. As both crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap, Chao stood over them, drinking in their _chi_ and becoming still more massive and churning with corrupted power: he now stood as tall as Tai Lung and just as muscled, while the shadows surrounding him had taken on the appearance of a cloak, completely wrapping about his body as well as extending out from each wing, spreading across the floor in endless, undulating patterns of strips and streamers. His expression was exultant and mad, his beak parted to allow a lustful, amorous groan to escape his throat, his head tilted back and his wings unfurled as if to embrace the entire world.

 

"You won't…win." This came from Master Dog, who had managed to sit up, one paw driven into his abdomen to keep his innards in place, the other still clutching one of his _pu dao_ to brandish in Chao's direction. "Even if…you kill us all…Oogway will stop you. Even if you do win…you'll have become no better than the emperor. You'll…you'll be nothing but a coward and a killer…"

 

Without warning, Chao suddenly leaped toward the canine, blocked the swing of his sword with his bracer, snatched him by the throat, and hoisted him off the floor, pinning him to the wall with one wing while the other hauled back to form a feathered fist. As it trembled visibly with his rage, he hissed darkly, "Don't you _ever_ call me a coward…"

 

Gou tried to shake his head, but could not move it, so settled for twitching his ears. "Why not? You're right…the Chao I knew, he wasn't a coward, he wouldn't kill innocent people, just to gain some forbidden power, to try and take out a tyrant by becoming one himself. He certainly wouldn't kill children. I don't know what's happened to you…but Ochir was right, you aren't him."

 

He paused, then his voice became pleading, his expression a mute, aching appeal. "Xun Chao…this isn't you. I know you're still in there. Please, listen to me. You were never that close to the others…but I was the first student Oogway took after you. We were always like brothers. Please…fight it. Don't let this darkness consume you. It's not worth it, it isn't right. I believe in you…I believe you can come back…"

 

For a moment a spasm of emotion twisted Chao's beak and his whole body trembled from head to talon. Something else gleamed in his insane red eyes—despair, regret, a sense of grandeur lost and something once loved and treasured now taken forever beyond his reach. Then, even as tears appeared in his eyes, the falcon shook his head violently. "No…you don't understand. None of you ever did, or ever will. I _must_ do this…it is the only way. You…should not have gotten in my way. I…didn't want to kill you, but you had to intervene…yes, it is _your_ fault, not mine…"

 

"Chao…"

 

"My time has come," the wizard announced. "I will do what I set out to do, and no one will stop me. I will destroy the empire…and in so doing, I will save it. I will kill the Emperor, and take his throne. I will rule China as it is meant to be ruled…I will preserve its people, not ruin them. All they must do is bow to me and obey, and they will be granted earthly paradise. I have the wisdom and knowledge, I will do what no other could…it is meant to be."

 

A menacing, smug, vicious smile appeared on his face, the feathers of which were bleeding from gray to pitch-black even as Shifu watched—paralyzed, as he had been all along, longing to rush forward and intervene but knowing he could not…that this was all merely a replay of events of a thousand years ago, that it was too late and the great masters were already long dead.

 

"Say hello…to Guan-Yu for me…" The winged fist flashed forward with dazzling speed…Master Dog's muzzle crumpled in with a crunch of bone, its shattered remnants being driven back and embedded in his brain…the canine spasmed violently, eyes rolling back and then going vacant as Chao allowed him to slip to the floor…

 

And then, out of nowhere, a blast of golden light came from beyond the panda's field of vision, sending the falcon spinning and hurtling sideways to slam into the wall behind the Moon Pool. Whirling about, Shifu saw Oogway—or rather, a second image of him, this one much, much younger…and filled with fury. He held his walking stick before him, the knobby end pointed at Chao and brandished like a weapon, and it was glowing with the same golden aura as it had during Tai Lung's trial—as the light which now held Heian Chao writhing and cursing against the carved marble.

 

Step by step, the turtle moved down the Sacred Hall, passing the bodies which littered the floor, the bodies of his dear and beloved students, and though he did not look at them or even pause, Shifu could tell from his face how saddened and despairing the old master had become upon seeing them. His expression hardened, more severe and unforgiving than the panda had ever seen it…and then he glared up at his captive, his voice abrupt and harsh as it came out in a cold, stinging rebuke. "You disappoint me, Xun Chao. I truly thought better of you."

 

"Release me!" the falcon screamed—not only in fury and hate, but in real pain; the golden, life-affirming _chi_ of his master seemed to truly, physically hurt him. In the back of his mind, Shifu began to get the glimmers of a notion, and to understand why he was being shown this. "You are a fool, Oogway! You were holding me back, you did not trust me with the power, when _I_ am the only one who can truly use it!"

 

Bitter sarcasm laced the turtle's next words. "Yes, I can see how trustworthy you have proven yourself to be, Chao. You denied me, you denied everything I ever taught you, and you denied everything I and kung fu stand for. All because, in your selfishness, you believed you knew better than me…believed you could do whatever you wished, because your way was the only way. You are sadly mistaken."

 

"No! No! The Emperor—I have…to stop…"

 

"Not like this," Oogway said firmly. " _Never_ like this. Believe me, he _will_ be dealt with…if for no other reason than to keep others from following in your corrupt footsteps. After I have dealt with you."

 

Somehow, by an act of supreme will, Chao succeeded suddenly in tearing one wing free from the wall, and he gestured. "You mean after _I_ have dealt with _you_!" A surge of black _chi_ , growing in strength, force, and size, washed across the Sacred Hall toward the turtle…cresting, churning, rising up like an immense tsunami that would destroy everything in its path.

 

But Oogway did not falter, did not even hesitate. He merely held up one hand and spread all his fingers wide, at the same time as he brought his staff about to wield it in a vertical circle, like a shield. Instantly a disk of golden light formed before him, expanding and bursting outward above and before him—and as the wave of dark _chi_ struck it, it was split in two, spraying harmlessly on either side while Oogway was left untouched behind his convex shelter. Shifu saw Chao's openly shocked and disbelieving look.

 

When the wave had dissipated, the turtle lowered both staff and shield—and if anything he looked even angrier, and more disapproving. "So brilliant, so gifted, and so insightful…and yet still you cannot see. Where did I go wrong? What did I fail to teach you?"

 

"Only everything in the restricted part of your library!" the falcon sneered. "And that I taught myself…" Without the staff pinning him to the wall, he was free to attack—and so he did, leaping toward Oogway. But despite looking visibly fatigued and drawn after holding back that insanely powerful _chi_ attack, the turtle was expecting this and ready for him.

 

For several minutes, the two sparred with blinding speed—the bird literally leaping, twisting, flinging himself about only to spread his wings and break his fall, the reptile blocking every one of his strikes with staff or shell, even ducking his head down inside of it once or twice when a slash of Chao's claw bracer just missed him. The falcon made to catch his arm in another Eagle Claw Lian Quan, but Oogway wasn't there anymore, having leaped adroitly to the side atop his staff.

 

The turtle struck out with one foot to snap his student's knee, but Chao somersaulted in mid-air and paused, hovering atop his streaming dark _chi_. He launched himself with another cry, his Emeici brought to bear for another devastating impalement—but at the last second Oogway whirled about, and the metal rods shattered against his shell.

 

Letting out the shriek of the sky predator he was, Chao clawed wildly at him with his bracer, tearing large chunks out of the keratin, but his master soon latched onto his arm and wrenched him about, slamming his backbone into the nearest pillar. The falcon somehow broke free of this hold, leaping in for close-quarter fighting…but after several more breathless minutes in which the two exchanged body blows, a drop-kick into the turtle's sternum, and a roundhouse that knocked Chao's head back, Oogway finally sent the bird flying back with a return kick—and before his student could retaliate, brought his staff to bear again.

 

Suddenly, it was over. The staff had released another wave of golden _chi_ , and Oogway's guiding hand had shaped it into a glowing, shimmering cage of light completely surrounding Chao. In fact, streams of _chi_ were actually connected to the wizard's limbs at wrists and ankles, as well as wrapped tightly around his body, as if he truly were manacled and chained. He struggled valiantly, violently, but could not break free.

 

Rage burned in his blazing crimson eyes, and every word that came from his beak was now underlain by his raptor's shriek. "No! _NO!_ You…cannot…do this to me! I was your best student! No other could stop the Emperor! No one else can do what needs to be done…no one else will accept the sacrifices that must be made!"

 

"Again, you are mistaken," Oogway said, and despite his heaving chest, his voice was more doleful than out-of-breath. "I, too, make sacrifices. But never ones of such selfishness and vanity. Your pride has destroyed you, my student. Perhaps it can be broken…perhaps one day, you will see the light." His voice hardened. "Until then, my prisoner you shall be. I will sacrifice you to maintain peace and order in China. I will drain you of this dark _chi_ , leech it from you as poison from a wound if I must…and when you are free of it, when you can see reason and realize you are not the center of all, that you have another purpose…then, we will talk." He turned away, dismissively.

 

"No! _No! **NO!**_ You can't…you won't…I'll break free! I'll destroy you! I _will_ make the empire mine, make it what it should be! Then you will see, then you'll be sorry you ever stood in my way! No! _No_ …!" But Chao's voice, along with his image, was already fading out, along with the rest of the scene, leaving the Sacred Hall just as it was before, filled with the shadows of night and the shimmers of peaceful moonlight.

 

The last thing Shifu saw was Oogway's face as he shuffled away from the falcon…and far from confident, certain, or determined, it somehow looked centuries older already. Sagging and weighted down, not by gravity and age, but by anguish and tragedy…by sadness and pain…and as he winced and closed his eyes at Chao's hateful words being flung at his back, Shifu recognized the look on his master's face. It was the same one he had worn when Tai Lung had been taken away in his prison cart to Chorh-Gom…the look of disappointment and loathing, not for his student, but for himself…for having failed.

 

How long had the Grand Master been keeping this secret? Shifu wondered. How long had he concealed the loss of so many innocents, of his beloved students, of the one who had, like Tai Lung, fallen so far from light into darkness...so that none would know of his mistakes, his sufferings, the slaying of the empire's protectors by one of their own? For Shifu had not known of any of this until now—the details of how Oogway's first class had met their deaths had always been couched in vague generalities in records and legends, "cut down in the prime of life", "died as they had lived", "laid low fighting in a great battle against evil".

 

An omission Shifu knew had to have been made at Oogway's behest...to hide the nature of what Chao had done, so that in time he might perhaps be redeemed, as centuries later he had done with the snow leopard as well; to let it seem as if Chao too must have died in this combat with darkness (which, in a weird and twisted way, was actually _true_ ), so that the memory of the good man he had once been would not be sullied. But also to hide the true magnitude of the turtle's failures.

 

Yet he could not be angry with his master; there was no point now, and besides, he understood—how could he bring peace and prosperity to China, establish kung fu as a means of defense and guardianship of the empire, if no one would trust him or his teachings due to this tragedy? What if Chao could, somehow, still be saved and restored to himself, the same hope Shifu had had for Tai Lung...? But no, now that he knew the full truth, the panda knew what he had to do...that his first impulse had been the correct one.

 

For a long time, all remained silent in the Jade Palace. Only the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional night bird could be discerned. Then, at last, Shifu spoke, soft and sober. "Where did you put him, Master? Where did you hold him? I need to know…so I can kill him."

 

To his surprise, Oogway did not object to this bloodthirsty and heartless pronouncement; in fact, his ghost only nodded, as if such a thing were to be expected if not wholeheartedly approved of. "Before I tell you that, and show you how to reach him, there is something you must do. It will protect you from him, as well as your son and all here in the Palace."

 

Shifu blinked incredulously. "What? What is it, tell me at once!"

 

"Take my staff," the turtle advised slowly. "As you know, a person's _chi_ may be blocked by striking at key points within their body, preventing it from flowing. What you are not aware of is, the same may be done to a place. _Chi_ is not limited only to sentient life, it flows and shifts within all living things, within the very earth itself…in the air, the water, and in places where people have long dwelled. Especially in places which are sacred, which have been consecrated by either familial love or the blessings of the gods. In a sense, such places too are alive.

 

"The Jade Palace is one of these. And if you block its _chi_ at certain points, prevent its flow, you will also prevent Xun Chao from being able to use and harm you. He will still have command of the _chi_ within him—and it is considerable, even now. But so long as the Jade Palace is thus bound, so too will you, and everyone in it, be shielded from his influence…unlike my first students." Tears stood in those luminous eyes.

 

Needless to say, the red panda was stunned; he'd had no idea anything like this was true or possible. But at this point, after all he had been shown, all he had seen and witnessed with his own eyes, and all he had learned, he would believe and trust anything. Especially if it would help him get rid of Chao. "All right, Master. I will be guided by you, as always. Tell me how to do it."

 

It didn't take Oogway long at all to explain, and soon enough Shifu was leaping nimbly about the Sacred Hall, bouncing off of pillars and vaulting upward with the aid of the staff so as to strike the indicated points: above, beside, and on each panel of the great doors, since they faced to the south, the sacred direction of the heavens; above each of the shrines for the kung fu artifacts displayed in the hall, points which concentrated their power; the _dougongs_ above each of the pillars; the windows on the eastern wall which allowed the light of the moon to shine upon the Moon Pool and infuse it with its mystical essence; and especially the golden dragon's head which had held the Dragon Scroll.

 

Once this was accomplished, Shifu landed back on the steps of the pool, breathing hard but feeling more alive, aware, and refreshed than he had in weeks. He could not see anything his actions had done (although there had been splashes of golden light radiating out each time he'd struck one of the _chi_ points), but he could feel it just the same.

 

"So," the panda said at last. "You said you would tell me where to find Chao."

 

Oogway bowed his head and sighed. "He is here. In the Valley. Where he has always been."

 

Shifu's blood went cold; that explained so much, and yet… "What do you mean? Where? Why?"

 

"Do not be misled by what I showed you, Shifu." He still kept his mournful gaze averted, as if too ashamed to meet his student's eyes. "I had great power, and my _chi_ was enough to withstand his. But only barely. What he did…the murders he committed…it allowed him to take the _chi_ of every one of his fellow students into him, to thrive on it and bolster his will and soul. He had phenomenal _chi_ to begin with, and when you add to that the _chi_ of eight other kung fu masters…plus the _chi_ of innocent children, the most powerful _chi_ of all…"

 

Oogway shook his head morosely. "The best I could hope for was to contain him, to slowly draw out his darkness until he was free of it…or at least, weak enough to be more readily dealt with. But this never occurred, he remained consumed by his darkness and in fact stronger than ever as the centuries passed; it was not until I passed on that I discovered why. Or at least, what had sustained him for the past forty years." He paused again, and at last looked up with intense pain in his eyes. "It was Tai Lung."

 

" _What?_ "

 

Oogway seemed to deflate, to completely lose his confidence and poise, every aspect of him given over to shame, regret, and weary resignation. He seemed to be pleading with Shifu to understand, to forgive him. "When the darkness began to grow in Tai Lung's heart, when he began to change, I suspected Chao might have something to do with it. In many ways, they were much alike; both inordinately proud, both convinced of their own superiority and right to a great destiny, both gifted with a wellspring of natural _chi_ greater than any other of their generation.

 

"Their reasoning and goals were completely different, but as Tai Lung grew older, became more fanatical about his studies, and sought out greater and more specialized kung fu forms—especially as he became so fixated on the Dragon Scroll—I began to wonder. He was not the only one who seemed willing to give in to darker impulses either. There was Commander Vachir…and even you, my friend." He held up a hand to forestall protest. "So after Tai Lung was paralyzed, I made certain he would be held outside the Valley. I was positive that as far away as Mongolia, he would be safe from Chao, if my old student was indeed corrupting him. That in Chorh-Gom, he would recover his wits and inner goodness, that he would become again the noble hero we had been training him to be. But again, I was wrong.

 

"One of the powers Chao uncovered in his studies, it seems, was the ability to detach his soul from his body, so as to travel with the speed of thought, to range far and wide across the empire and manifest wherever and whenever he wished. My _chi_ could restrain his body, but not his mind. It was how he survived, retained his darkness, and even absorbed more throughout the years of his imprisonment. And it was how he visited Tai Lung in the depths of Chorh-Gom…whispering, ever whispering, in your son's ear, insuring he remained unbalanced and unstable, given over to thoughts of murder, revenge, and destruction."

 

"So…you are saying…that this is _all_ his fault?" Shifu couldn't believe what he was hearing. On the one hand, it was a relief to know that he had not failed that badly as a father, that Tai Lung had become what he did thanks to the outside influence and corruption of this dark wizard; on the other hand, the fact Chao was responsible for the suffering of his son, and of the empire, for the last forty years and likely longer made him even more diabolical and deserving of death. "What he did to the Five, to me, to Po…even his rampage of twenty years ago? It was all because of—?"

 

"No!" Oogway snapped, his voice firm and resolute. Shifu stepped back a pace. "Those acts were all still Tai Lung's, his own choices, his own desires driving him over lines he should never have crossed. That cannot be forgotten…least of all by him. And the fact he has atoned for them and strives every day to make amends is thus quite admirable." He paused. "What Chao did was make it more likely Tai Lung would act so immorally. He kept him insane and focused only on his desires.

 

"He encouraged your son to fixate on the Dragon Scroll to earn your love and affection; he encouraged Tai Lung to act on his impulses, to give in to his rage and hatred. He convinced him that no one cared for him, that he was a worthless orphan who could only achieve acceptance if greatness were granted to him—or if he stole it by force. Nothing more, nothing less. It was still Tai Lung who gave in to temptation."

 

Shifu snorted. "Perhaps so, but he was still the tempter who set it all before him. He would never have given in, if not for Chao."

 

"I hope you are right, but there is no way we can ever know." Oogway waved the matter aside. "In any event, it is thanks to feeding off of Tai Lung's _chi_ that Chao remained so powerful and beyond my ability to purge or destroy. When he escaped Chorh-Gom and came here to the Valley, he brought his darkness with him, and this gave Chao more power still."

 

"And you had already died," Shifu said slowly, putting the pieces together. "No wonder…his chains must have already been weakening, and once Tai Lung gave him the _chi_ he needed…"

 

"Well…I didn't say that." Oogway looked even more apologetic. "My death did make it easier for him to escape, yes. But it was something else that set him free."

 

Shifu paused—and then it hit him. "No. You don't mean—"

 

"I'm afraid so." The turtle bit his lip. "The Wuxi Finger Hold. It was meant to purify and cleanse, and so it did to Tai Lung—but by this point, nothing can wash Chao clean and restore him to whom he once was. All the influx of _chi_ could do— _chi_ which was even more powerful than mine, thanks to the Dragon Scroll—was set him free.

 

"But do not tell this to Po," Oogway hurriedly cautioned. "There was no possible way he could have known, and if he were to learn of what he had inadvertently done, he would once more lose all confidence in himself. For the Dragon Warrior, that is a disaster. Besides…" The shade smiled faintly. "What he did was, undeniably, the right thing. Saving Tai Lung from himself, and giving him this chance at redemption, is well worth the release of Heian Chao. I am not saying, of course, that everything Chao has done since then is something I am glad happened; I wish with all my being it had not.

 

"Yet at the same time…I have learned my error, that merely imprisoning Chao was never enough. That locking away any problem does not truly solve it. Sometimes, there truly is no recourse but to fight, to achieve victory by force of arms…and in the end, to slay that which would destroy us all. That being true, it is for the best Chao was freed when he was. It would have happened inevitably anyway—and now, what was meant to be shall be. Chao must be dealt with once and for all…and as weak as he currently is, your students finally have a real chance."

 

His mind awhirl with these revelations and what they all meant, Shifu put a shaking hand to his head—but then abruptly lowered it as his mind sharpened, focused in on what was important. "Very well. Then where he is? Where did you put him, and how do I get to him?"

 

Oogway closed his eyes again. "He is here…beneath the Jade Palace. In the Vault of Heroes."

 

"The Vault of—but that's only a legend!" Shifu's jaw was once again hanging, he couldn't help it. He had read stories of the Vault of Heroes, of course, especially after coming to the Jade Palace: scrolls had told of an ancient shrine to warriors of times long past, those who had placed their lives on the line to defend the empire and its people, even before the first Emperor united China so violently. No one had ever seen it to know if it was real, or if they had it had been so long ago their stories, too, were lost.

 

If the place had ever been real, it was believed by most scholars to have tumbled into ruin, buried and crushed beneath the earth, or pulverized and used for building temples and palaces, perhaps even the Great Wall. It was supposed to hold great riches—not of gold and jewels, but of wisdom and knowledge, beauty and wonder.

 

"I can assure you," the turtle was saying wryly, "it is quite real. It was here, beneath the Jade Mountain, when I first came to the Valley. I decided to incorporate it when building the Palace, to hold its great power but also to protect it from thieves and interlopers. Or those who would use it for evil, as Chao would. It is the Vault's power—the power of the gods—which has likely restrained him for so long, even in the last days of my waning strength. It is this he will attempt to use against you—but which you in turn can use against him. It is neutral, its power neither good nor evil…like Yin and Yang, it is balanced and may be called upon if you listen to that still, small voice within you, Shifu."

 

Shifu nodded, even as he began to feel rather exasperated; this was all very good, important information, but he still hadn't been told what he really wanted to know. "And I can reach him by…?"

 

Oogway regarded him flatly for a moment, then chuckled ruefully and pointed to the Moon Pool. "There. Simply use my staff to tap the central stones, at the southern and eastern rims, seven and five times, respectively. The entrance will reveal itself…"

 

When he had done as the turtle instructed, he was startled to hear a sound of grinding stone from somewhere deep beneath the pool—and then, slowly at first but with increasing speed, the water began to swirl, forming a deep, churning whirlpool as it drained away from the basin. After a few minutes, the Moon Pool had vanished, pouring into some hidden cavern he'd never known was there, and in its place a steep, spiral staircase was revealed, leading down into impenetrable darkness.

 

As he fetched the Sword of Heroes from its stand, Oogway's voice stopped him once more. He looked over to see his old master beginning to fade away, the peach petal blossoms scattering on the wind, and a look of unspeakable distress on his face. "I am sorry, Shifu, for not telling you any of this sooner…I had hoped it would never come to this, that you would never need to know of my great shame. Of how terribly I had failed. Try not to think too badly of me. I hope one day you can forgive me…and that you can set right what I did wrong. Promise me, Shifu…promise me you will end the curse of Heian Chao, before he can again harm another soul. Do not let him continue to make history repeat itself, and keep us all in darkness."

 

Shifu paused for several long moments, looking back over his shoulder at the turtle whose face desperately sought absolution. Then, firmly, he nodded. "I promise, Master. He's not going to escape this time."

 

He glanced down into the blade of his weapon, at his sober and pensive reflection in the gleaming metal and the glowing jade carving of the dragon that wreathed the sword as if alive. Then, with a deep breath and a gathering of every ounce of courage and will left in his small frame, he started down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, a few translations and some explanation of my references, per usual. Di Yu, for anyone who doesn't know, is the Chinese term for Hell, while Guan-Yu is the Chinese god of war. Chao's true name, Xun, means "quick", a reference to his species. The names of the great kung fu masters translate as follows: Gou Cheng=sincere dog; You Li/Min=sharp/clever weasel; Hou=roar of a lion, Kuan=broad, Xiong=powerful, Sudu=swift. (These are oblique references to the three lions' favored weapons.) As to why I said the three brothers were lions...it was one of the few species we didn't see appear in some manner in the movie, and since in those days there were lions in India... Ochir is a shout-out to Luna's "Memoirs", although by now it should be clear that my story is actually an alternate reality from hers, since Yeying is actually dead in my fic and Ochir lived a thousand years ago instead of being a contemporary of Shifu's. Since I don't know any other Mongolian names, I sort of had to use Ochir anyway.
> 
> The scene with Shifu searching the scroll room is somewhat meant to be reminiscent of Gandalf rushing to Minas Tirith in _Fellowship of the Ring_ to learn about the Ring. As for Chao himself, his personality and backstory are a sort of cross-pollination between Voldemort, Seymour from _Final Fantasy X_ , Brona/the Warlock Lord from Shannara, and Anakin Skywalker. Hopefully my version is better, more realistic, or at least more effective than some of those villains were. In general, Chao is a Well-Intentioned Extremist, Knight Templar, Omnicidal Maniac who believes Utopia Justifies the Means. Fun, eh? 
> 
> Now you know why the Hall of Warriors was always such a focus of my story beyond the usual reasons. Speaking of the Jade Palace, I am fairly positive I'm right about it facing in the sacred directions: in the scene where Po received the Dragon Scroll, the windows were to his right and the doors behind him, and since it makes sense the Moon Pool would be shone upon by the moon, which usually rises either in the east or west, then the doors would face south. If I'm wrong...then consider it poetic license. The Vault of Heroes, BTW, is the last lost place from _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ I'll be including. I am hoping most of you will be surprised by what is found there...in the meantime I'll just note that with it being an underground location, Dream Works was making Po's story arc even more obviously a Hero's Journey before they nixed it. Me bringing it back is even more appropriate, since both Po and Tai Lung are following such a journey this time.
> 
> Lastly, I am sure you noticed the parallels between Chao's backstory and certain events which have occurred in my fic. In case you missed it, though, I suggest you compare the final moments of Master Dog with those of Mantis...


	39. The Weight of Choices

 

 

"Why is it," Tai Lung said between gritted teeth, "whenever you're around, I end up _bleeding_?"

 

"Oh hush," Tigress reprimanded him as she finished cleaning and sterilizing the arrow wound in his side and began to work on stitching it closed with assistance and advice from Crane. "You should just be glad I'm here to help take care of you when it happens."

 

"Yes, I know, all men are babies," the snow leopard muttered peevishly. "Considering the number of times I've been hurt lately, I think I have a right to be a bit resentful."

 

The avian shrugged his narrow, bony shoulders. "Well, you _are_ a target, Tai Lung. Don't worry, though, we're all here for you now. We'll make sure nothing more happens to you if we can help it. Right, guys?" He turned and looked at the others, who had joined them all in the basement of the Jade Palace—both to keep watch over the Wu Sisters after interrogating them, and to be near Monkey.

 

Everyone nodded or murmured agreement, something which seemed to mollify Tai Lung. Normally, this would have been cause for celebration on Po's part—finally, all of them were united as friends again, and this time on Tai Lung's side. But somehow, after all that had happened, he couldn't bring himself to be joyful.

 

Not because of what had nearly happened to his father or to the snow leopard, though that was bad enough. Not because of the terrible story told to him by Mei Ling, Tigress, and the others of what had almost been done to Tai Lung, and how Heian Chao had possessed and manipulated Xiulan and the entire village, although that did make the panda both incensed and downright horrified. Not even because of the injuries he, Tigress, and Viper had suffered, which were slightly less severe than Tai Lung's and had already been properly treated and tended.

 

No, it was because of the story Wu Chun and Wu Jia had told him during the return trip to the Valley.

 

Glancing down at the gold silk he still held clutched in his paws—which he had ever since Crane had set the bundle of herbs down beside the snow leopard, apologizing as he did so to Ping about using it without permission—Po shuddered anew. He still couldn't believe what he'd been told, it seemed like a nightmare crossed with impossible tragedy, and part of him still wanted to believe quite strongly that it was in fact a lie, something the assassins had made up to fool and mislead him…though for what purpose, he couldn't quite be sure.

 

Had they been trying to prove to him he wasn't a real hero after all? Teach him sometimes it was best to be careful what you wished for? Establish common bonds between them so he'd testify on their behalf when they were put on trial? Or in some backwards, twisted way reassure him he had been loved and still had a good family, despite it all?

 

Whatever the reasoning, what he did know was that he couldn't deny the truth any longer. The golden silk had clinched it—not only had it been marked with the hanzi for Jiangxi, the very province the Sisters had told him he originally hailed from, but Ping had identified it as being from the infant bunting he'd been wrapped in when the goose adopted him. And that only matched the story which the Sisters had told him…and which Ping had, again, confirmed.

 

It had been enough to distract him completely from almost everything going on in the storeroom, so that he had tuned out the questioning of the assassins and all the information Jia was gladly spilling about Heian Chao, and which Chun added to with only slightly more reluctance.

 

At least he'd been able, somewhat, to pay attention to Tai Lung when the snow leopard finally broke down over Zhuang's death—as the full import of it sank in, the spotted feline had stared off into space, having trailed off while discussing just what Heian Chao had told him and tried to do to him in his cell, and then he'd suddenly jerked about to regard Ping bleakly.

 

"I still can't believe it." His words had been so soft they could barely be heard in the night's shadows, the endless chirring of insects on the mountain outside. "He actually thought he could make me join him, when he'd done something so cruel and twisted. He killed Zhuang...him and Xiu." The goose had nodded slowly, soberly, tears welling up in his moon-like eyes.

 

Suddenly those tears had been mirrored in Tai Lung's as his shoulders shook. "It's not fair. He had such a long life ahead of him...a loving wife, a beautiful child..." Viper had reached out to wrap her tail tip around his paw; he'd squeezed it back. "It never would have happened if Chao and the Sisters weren't after me. He'd still be alive if not for me." Crane and Monkey had exchanged sober, depressed glances, while Jia, lying on the floor alongside her sisters, had looked deeply pained.

 

"It shouldn't have been him. It was me they were after...it... _it should have been me_..." Those last whispered words had broken his voice and, with a wrenching sob, the snow leopard had buried his face in Tigress's striped fur, crying upon her shoulder as she'd held him, both startled and a bit awkward.

 

Po had stared at Mei Ling across from him, who had rested her beige paw on Tai Lung's far shoulder. He hadn't been able to say anything, whether to gainsay or comfort his friend, and the fact he didn't know if that was because there truly was nothing to say or because of his own inner pain had made him furious with himself—and guilt-stricken.

 

Remembering how eager he'd been, just last night, to meet with the bull and his wife, to help pave the way toward forgiveness and reconciliation between the Shen family and Tai Lung, and how maliciously Xiu had revealed the builder's fate on Wu Dan, he'd felt his own tears well up anew...and after one more glance at the distraught mountain cat, he had gripped his friend's other shoulder and helped the leader of the Four support him. _They're gonna pay, her and Chao. They're gonna pay for what they did, what they took from Zhuang an' his family, from all of us..._

 

Yet memory of that thought, and the manner in which it resonated with the Sisters' story— _I really **am** like him...!—_had sent Po reeling out of both revenge and grief, however, sent him spiraling back into depression. And somehow even the memory of the ex-convict's unbridled enthusiasm when they'd first gathered there in the basement of the palace, when the story of the fight at Wu Dan—and what happened after—had been shared, could not raise Po's spirits. Being praised for all the amazing kung fu he'd employed, for how precisely and perfectly he'd used Tai Lung's nerve strike, and the sheer awe the spotted cat had displayed when Po told him how he'd cleansed the Sacred Pool…all of it receded into obscurity as the panda reflected bitterly on his heritage.

 

It wasn't that he thought he might secretly be descended from a line of great warriors…he'd grown up a peasant, and never dreamed of nobility or a rich family's hidden legacy. But being told he wasn't just the son of a noodle chef…that he actually came from one who was as far from heroism as it was possible to get without being, well, Tai Lung or Heian Chao…

 

The one thing he had never suspected, because he couldn't begin to deal with such a thing, was that he might be the son of a criminal and murderer.

 

" _Your father told me the story many times," Chun said quietly, sadly. "Sometimes it seemed like he did so to justify and excuse everything he did. Other times, just because he couldn't stop complaining about his lot in life. And then there were the times he was just wallowing in grief for what he'd lost, I think._

 

" _He was a soldier in the Imperial Army. Emperor Chen had sent out his generals and their retainers to conscript the people, all able-bodied men that could fight, to help drive back the invading Manchurians. Bao had always fought against the panda stereotype_ — _he'd learned sword fighting, archery, and a smattering of kung fu at a young age, he'd apprenticed himself to the local blacksmith and worked in the quarry_ — _anything to build muscle, prove he was as strong and dependable as any man out there. And he was_ — _I'm sure you get your strength from him, Dragon Warrior. When they came to his village and demanded 'volunteers' to serve the Son of Heaven, your father was the first one in line._

 

" _I don't know how much of it was true and how much bragging," the green-eyed sister chuckled slightly. "But to hear Bao tell it, he was the fastest-rising star in the army, he took to every weapon they showed him like a fish to water, and he understood tactics and strategy better than a lot of the generals. Whatever the truth, apparently he did do something right, since he was promoted fairly rapidly and was soon commanding whole regiments of men. From what he said, he relished the challenge, he loved the quickening pulse and fiery passion of battle, and his men respected and admired him implicitly. He said he won a number of medals, though if so, he must have lost them…or they were stripped from him."_

_Putting one foot in front of the other, determined not to let the Sisters know what their tale was doing to him_ — _how the man they were describing was as brave, heroic, and amazingly talented a fighter as he had always hoped, yet how his thirst for carnage and killing was also extremely disquieting_ — _Po remained silent, refusing to comment. But as Chun said nothing more, he was finally forced to speak up. "So, what happened? How come I ain't livin' in th' lap of luxury in th' Imperial City? Or servin' in a peasant infantry with my dad?"_

_Jia looked upset, but after exchanging a long look with her sister, she took up the story. "Well…while he was away from home in Manchuria, something terrible happened. Did you ever hear about the earthquake in Jiangxi?"_

_He had. In fact, if what Tai Lung said was true, it was this disaster which had taken the lives of Tigress's parents. "Yeah," he replied at last, laconically. "Ya don't mean…?"_

 

" _No, his wife didn't die," the youngest sister swiftly explained. "But…she did lose all they had. They both did. Your mom was a cook, had her own restaurant and everything. It was destroyed in the quake…thanks to the war, no men could be spared from the capital to help rebuild the village. And your parents had hardly any money saved up…without any way to make ends meet, Li-Na was going to become a beggar if something wasn't done. So…she managed to get a letter delivered to the front."_

_An ugly feeling began to fill his heart, one that eclipsed the sense of pride he'd felt at knowing the other half of his talents, his love of and skill with food, had also been inherited._

_Chun spoke again, her usual emotionless tone quite fitting for what came next. "As soon as he found out what had happened back in Jiangxi, Bao went to his commander and requested a leave of absence. The man refused, of course, said he couldn't spare anyone no matter how much his wife needed him. There was another soldier from Sichuan, Bao said, some fellow named Lei, who tried to stand up for him, but the general wouldn't listen to him either. Your father was desperate, so…"_

 

" _He deserted," Jia finished softly, confirming his worst suspicions. He didn't know much about the army, but he did know that service in it_ — _especially when it had been compelled in the first place_ — _was considered a high honor and an obligation to the empire. To serve in it was a mark of prestige and glory. To refuse such service…and especially to desert it…was not only a sign of grave disloyalty, it was illegal and branded you a traitor to the Emperor. And he knew what happened to traitors: at the very least, shunning and exile, imprisonment…all the way up to death._

 

" _He went back to Jiangxi," Chun continued after a lengthy, appropriate pause. "Of course, he couldn't stay there, not if he wanted to stay free of Chen's enforcers. He just came back long enough to check on his wife, and then run away with her. They couldn't stay in one place, it was the only way to escape the law. And at the same time, they needed some way to live, to take care of themselves, to gain food and money. So…they really didn't have any choice. They became thieves and bandits…and eventually, highwaymen."_

_The violet-eyed sister hastened to add, "Li-Na wasn't really very good at it, and she hated every minute of it, too. But your dad…well, all that training and combat skill and bloodlust had to come in handy, you know? At first, he just did it because he had to, because there was no other way to survive. But then, he started to like it, not just taking money and possessions but even killing their owners. He kept a tally, and was proud whenever he broke another personal record." She paused, her eyes and voice both dropping. "I got to see it once, when he was flaunting it. I…never knew one person could kill that many. Even we never got that high."_

_Po closed his eyes, bit his lip, and shuddered. He couldn't believe it, couldn't accept it. He'd always been gentle and fiercely protective of others, as long as he could remember. His playmates as a cub had had nothing to fear from his larger size and strength; even those who later teased and made fun of him had never once received any retaliation. And the idea of killing anyone who wasn't an evil warrior, an invader…or a robber…had been anathema to him._

_How…how could his own father have been the very opposite of him? How could a man who had once been such a heroic and revered soldier have fallen into such dishonor thanks to one simple, terrible twist of fate and one general's lack of empathy? And how could he go into battle now, knowing that at any moment he could fall into the same berserker rage, that he could end up with a taste for blood and killing, could come to enjoy it and even need it?_

 

" _You have to understand something, though," Chun said insistently, making him look directly at her. "Even though he was a murderer and a violent warrior, Bao was not a bad man. There were times I got him to talk about life in his village, before the war…and he'd get a bit misty-eyed, like he missed such peaceful times. He always showed great love and devotion to his wife. He never liked or trusted Xiu, wouldn't have anything to do with her. All those he killed were pompous, arrogant nobles and merchants, people who always looked down on and abused the poor…people like the man who wouldn't release him from the army." **As if that makes it all better,** Po thought sullenly. "And he never harmed children, or travelers who had them. He still had scruples."_

_Jia chimed in. "He had a terrible temper, yeah_ — _you definitely didn't want to see him angry! And he came up with some pretty disgusting ways of killing people that made even Xiu a bit squeamish."_

_Seeing the look on Po's face, Chun frowned and muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "Not helping…"_

 

" _Oh!" The youngest sister looked mortified, then rushed on with an infectious grin and a winsome, gushing tone. "But when he wasn't being all broody and 'I hate the world', he had a really nice laugh, and a great smile_ — _just like you, big guy."_

 

" _He also did the right thing when it came to you," the middle sister noted calmly._

 

" _You think that matters to me?" Po snapped. "Doesn't change the fact he was still a killer, that he took stuff that didn't belong t' him, an' he liked it."_

 

" _Of course it matters!" Jia gasped. "Okay, so he didn't have any problem hanging out with the Wu Sisters when we encountered him and his little band_ — _in fact he and Li-Na stuck with us, left them behind, for almost a year. But he cared about you, I could tell. He wanted to do right by you."_

_Chun nodded, or perhaps her head just flopped on his chest as he strode along. "I'm pretty sure he never intended to have a child while they were on the run, out on the road. These things just happen. Once he found out, though, you could have tied him to a rooftop and he still would have floated off into the clouds and taken it with him. He was the happiest father I ever saw. All the money he stole then went toward showering gifts on your mother, getting toys for you, and saving up for a new place to live."_

 

" _But…once that wore off," Jia added pensively, "he knew either they'd have to leave their life of crime, or they'd have to give you up. Li-Na wanted to quit…but Bao, he just couldn't. He'd grown to like it too much_ — _not just the killing, but the freedom, not having to settle down, do what was proper and honorable, kowtow to the authorities. And anyway, unless the Emperor pardoned him, he knew nowhere they went would be safe. Eventually they'd be tracked down, even if they changed their names and everything. Giant pandas are pretty rare and distinctive, you know. He couldn't put his wife and you through that."_

_Mulling this over, the panda hadn't spoken again until they'd reached the foot of the mountains and were proceeding back through the forests and farm fields toward the village. Then he'd asked, tentatively, "So…it wasn't that they didn't love me? I mean, it sounds like he loved his new life a heck of a lot more…"_

_Both snow leopardesses looked saddened, especially Jia, but neither could fully deny what he'd said. "No, it wasn't that," Chun finally managed to say. "I don't pretend to know what was going through Bao's mind…but I know this. Even if he did want to be a thief and murderer more than live a normal life and try to earn a regular living for your sake, he loved you very much. I wish you could remember his face, especially when he first held you…at that point, he was the kindest, gentlest panda you could ever meet, and no one would believe how much blood he'd shed."_

_Something suddenly seemed to swim up into Po's consciousness, something long-buried and forgotten that he'd had no idea was there: a memory of arms, warm and furry and incredibly strong, holding him close…a face, huge and white with black-furred ears and rings around a pair of blue eyes…a voice he couldn't understand, rumbling in the chest he was pressed to…and a smile every bit as tender, handsome, and loving as the one Jia had described. Words slowly came back to him… "Who's the cutest little panda? Oh, you're just like Baba was when he was little, aren'tcha? Gonna grow up to be a real lady-killer, yes sir…who's Daddy's little boy? It's you, ain't it? Yes it is…"_

_Tears welled up, and he began to sob softly._

_It was at this point that Ping finally entered the conversation. "They're telling the truth, son. I know because I saw it in Bao's eyes, when he gave you to me." As Po whipped his head about and stared at him in open disbelief, the goose wrung his feathered hands and clutched at his_ pao _as if he meant to twist it into pieces. "I was on my way north, to the Valley of Peace…you remember when I told you I had dreams of running my own tofu restaurant? Well I actually left home and tried that for a few years…when I abandoned it, it wasn't just because it was a silly dream that didn't work out._

 

" _I'd heard about Tai Lung's rampage, and my father begged me to come home and help him with the shop. I couldn't tell him no…so, there I was, on the road with the first caravan I met for protection…and it was hit by Bao and the Wu Sisters. It was so long ago, I'm not surprised they didn't remember me, nor I them…I was certain I would die on that lonely, remote road. But your father spared me. I still don't know why. I may have babbled something about my father and his restaurant. Maybe he didn't want to kill someone who had someone depending on him, or he didn't want to kill a fellow noodle-maker like his wife._

 

" _Once he found out where I was going, his mind seemed made up. He questioned me for a long time…I suppose he wanted to test my integrity, find out if I'd be good father material." He paused, then spoke conspiratorially behind one wing. "Between you and me, I am very surprised I passed_ — _in those days I wasn't the fine, upstanding example of responsibility and morality I am today, I was quite the rebel! But he must have seen who I was at heart, because he and Li-Na both insisted that I adopt you as my own. On one condition: that I never tell you who they were or where you came from, until they either found me again and gave me permission to tell you, or the situation changed and made it safe to do so…or they were dead."_

_Chun nodded in agreement. "He didn't want you to know who they were, what they had become…he wanted you to be free of their kind of life."_

_Po snorted. "I wonder why."_

_Jia frowned and sighed. "Don't be like that. Even though he loved it, he still knew it wasn't right. He knew what you'd think. He wanted you to have everything he could give you…but he didn't want you to be like him. He wasn't going to be raising a family of murderers. If anything, he wanted his son to be a real warrior, like he used to be." She paused, then chuckled. "Guess he got his wish, huh?"_

_The panda didn't trust himself to speak._

_After another moment, the green-eyed sister observed, "Barring that, he just wanted you to be safe, and fulfilled, and happy. He made Ping promise to raise you, telling everyone you were just an abandoned foundling he discovered along the road; the whole caravan was killed so no one could contradict the story. And he made us, or me anyway, promise to look in on you from time to time, make sure you were okay." She looked away. "It was the first time I ever broke my word. Does keeping a promise twenty years too late still count?"_

_Not bothering to dignify that with a reply_ — _perhaps because, if he was feeling charitable, he really couldn't deny that at least Chun was showing some concern and caring for him now_ — _Po looked back at his father instead. "So you just took me in? Just like that?"_

 

" _Of course I did!" The goose looked shocked he would think otherwise, and a lump formed in his throat yet again. "I couldn't let you live that way. Bao was very insistent…your mother was heartbroken, of course, but she was also so clear about everything_ — _how to burp you, what temperature your milk should be, what time I'd do best to put you to sleep, and everything_ — _that I couldn't refuse to do all I could for you. I couldn't let her down."_

_He smiled. "And once I saw that cute little face of yours, it was over. I was hopeless, completely lost. So…they gave you to me, in those swaddling clothes they'd stolen from some rich merchant or other, and sent me on my way. And I never saw them again."_

_Po didn't know how to feel about that, or about what he asked next. So he kept his voice as neutral as possible. "What happened t' them, then? Are they still out there, robbin' people blind? Did they retire? Or…did they finally get caught an' executed?"_

 

" _They aren't dead," Chun said slowly. "With as notorious as they became, I think we would have heard if that had happened. No, if I heard the rumors rightly…they were finally tracked down by the authorities. But they weren't killed. Emperor Chen himself intervened…he'd heard the story, years after the Manchurians were defeated, and been horrified. I hear the general in question went beneath the axe almost immediately. Thanks to how many they'd robbed and killed, his hands were somewhat tied, he couldn't let your parents go completely. But I think he was able to commute the sentence. So…they're probably still in the Imperial prison, somewhere…"_

_She paused and looked at him with bold directness. "I wish I could tell you more, take you to them, but I can't. I do know I'm right, though: if they knew who you were, what you'd done with yourself, they'd be thrilled. Especially your father. And now that you know the truth…despite everything, you can honor them. Honor who they used to be."_

_He glanced from her, to Jia, to Ping. Everything was a jumbled, jostled mess within him, a conflicting morass of emotions. He wanted to hate Bao, but found he couldn't. He wanted to forgive him, but found he couldn't do that either. He missed his mother. He cursed the war that caused all this. He irrationally hated Xiu, since he was positive her influence was somehow responsible for his father becoming as he was_ — _not to mention her bald-faced lie when they’d first met near Yunxian, mocking his status as the Dragon Warrior when she’d known all along just what pandas were truly capable of._ _He yearned for the life he could have had in Jiangxi. And he still somehow felt proud of where he came from_ — _not the highwaymen who had given him up, but the cook and soldier they had once been._

_In the end, he couldn't say more…he could only carry the Sisters back to the Valley in silence…becoming more and more despondent, numb, and angry without cause or target, while the tears still rolled down his cheeks…_

 

"Po?"

 

Snapping out of his reverie, the Dragon Warrior looked up to see that everyone was staring at him. It was Tai Lung who had spoken to him, and the snow leopard was in fact in the process of waving his large paw in front of Po's face to break him out of his trance. Everyone looked concerned; although he'd told none of them what he'd learned of his past, and the moment where Ping had told him the fabric Crane had brought with him was his old baby bunting had taken place in private in one corner, it didn't take a genius to figure out he was depressed and upset.

 

Forcing himself to sit up straight and give them a falsely cheery smile, he clasped his paws over his belly, tried very hard (and failed) not to twiddle his thumbs, and said, "Sorry guys. Had a…lot on my mind. What's up?"

 

"Well, I was just saying we should probably tell Shifu what we've found out," Tai Lung offered, with a firm sense of vindication. When Po looked a bit blank, the snow leopard groaned and put his head in his paw. "From the Wu Sisters? About Heian Chao?"

 

"Oh! Oh, yeah. That. Gotcha. Of course, of course, Shifu's gotta hear about it." The panda put on his best sage expression, nodded solemnly, and injected as much gravity and emphasis into his tone as he could.

 

"You didn't hear a word they said, did you?" the spotted feline asked accusingly.

 

"Naw! I heard…some of 'em." The Dragon Warrior scrunched up his face and smiled half-heartedly, apologetically. The truth was he had heard most of it, but it had mostly gone in one ear and out the other. It wasn't that what they'd said was that unimportant or uninteresting—it was that as far as he was concerned, it was all things they already knew, or could have figured out on their own, especially once Zeng had become so obliging in telling just why he'd feared Chao's wrath had he told the others of the _chi_ wizard's identity and possession of Vachir, what Chao had threatened to do and actually done.

 

Of course he hadn't pointed this out, since the possibility of getting information out of the Sisters about their enemy had been one of the few things which had kept Tai Lung from fulfilling his oath to Xiulan on the spot—dragging the assassins down to the magistrate to be locked up in his old cell, or even slaughtering them here and now. (Thanks to some herbs administered by Ning Guo when he arrived to replace the snow leopard's previous purchase, he was now mostly over his opium haze, memories of which still mortified him. But his injuries and tiredness did, in fact, provide other good reasons why he couldn't take the Sisters down to the village tonight. Oddly, he'd also been quite insistent upon Tigress taking her birth control medicine before anything else happened. Whether she was only humoring him or also considered this of paramount importance wasn't clear, but she'd done as directed.)

 

So, Po was not about to say anything that would encourage Tai Lung to take drastic action with their captives. _Well, unless it was Xiu. She can keel over and be gutted for all I care. …Damn. Was that me takin' after Bao again? Some hero I'm turnin' out t' be._

 

Wrenching his thoughts yet again from their well-worn course, the panda sighed. In any event, they now knew everything the Sisters did about their employer—which, frankly, wasn't much. A lot of it was actually baseless speculation or highly cogent but unsubstantiated suspicions, Zeng's fearful corroborations notwithstanding. They'd been given a catalogue of every skill and ability Chao was known to have, those which they had actually seen him wield and a few they guessed he might be capable of. They'd learned he likely did know some manner of kung fu, though which style was unknown. They'd discovered his species was avian, though again the Sisters weren't sure which since they had never seen him without his hooded cloak—and were rather afraid to, when it came down to it.

 

This revelation had prompted mild hilarity when Monkey, listening in from his cell across the corridor, had leaned up against the barred window in his door and joked that maybe Heian Chao was targeting Tai Lung because he was afraid he'd eat him—and with the snow leopard as well as a tiger and a mountain cat all available to tag team the wizard… That had earned a flat glare from the ex-convict and the leader of the Four, although Mei Ling and Po had both found the idea rather funny.

 

Even more levity—which was much-needed—ensued when Crane had then pointed out that Chao's manner of dress was practically ripped out of the old children's tales of bogeymen and evil spirits, a villainous cliché waiting to be mocked, which Tai Lung noted dovetailed rather neatly with the 'ultimate plan' he'd described to the snow leopard in his cell.

 

Of course, even through the laughter, Po realized what was really going on. They were all trying to hide their uncertainty, fear, and worry behind jocularity. It was a common human defense mechanism…but it didn't change the fact that Chao's plans, if they succeeded, actually were rather frightening—and that they still had no idea how to defeat him. Even Chun and Jia had no ideas on that score.

 

That they had to find a way to take him down, however, was undeniable. Monkey in particular was adamant on that one.

 

"I know I agreed to it and everything," the simian observed mournfully from his cell, "but maybe it would've been better if you'd let me out of my cell, or never put me here in the first place. Chao ain't come near me since we got back to the Valley…and after what he put me through, at least I could've helped out at the trial, told 'em what he did to me and that he was real."

 

Viper glared at him flatly, but then slowly relented. Seeing what Chao was capable of had done much to mellow her and Crane's mood toward the primate, but old habits died hard. "Maybe so, Monkey, but you weren't there to see what they were like. I don't think they would have listened to even you. They wouldn't have listened at all, I don't think, if it hadn't been for what Po and Master Shifu did."

 

Everyone was silent for several moments, digesting this sober prospect. Then, without warning, Tigress turned to look at Mei Ling. "Give me the key."

 

The mountain cat blinked. "What?"

 

"Viper was with me at Wu Dan, Crane was babysitting Yi. So you're the only one left who could have the key to Monkey's cell, unless Master Shifu has it. I'm going to let him out."

 

Understandably, both the waterfowl and the serpent protested, and even Mei Ling herself was still wary of the langur. But Po and Tai Lung were both in agreement with Tigress—not only were they positive Monkey was no longer under Chao's control, and that his grief over the death of Mantis meant he likely would never fall under his sway again, but they knew they would need every bit of help they could get when they faced the _chi_ wizard. And who better to help them than the one their enemy had abused so thoroughly, who needed redemption now as badly as the snow leopard did, and who had every right to want to get some small measure of revenge on the man who had made him kill his best friend?

 

Normally Po would not condone revenge…especially after what he'd learned about his father and what he might well have in common with him. But in this case, he thought it just might be justified. And while revenge seemed to be the easiest way Chao had to take control of someone's _chi_ , in this case the reason for vengeance practically guaranteed Monkey would never give his will away again.

 

He hoped.

 

So, despite the reluctance and worry both Crane and Viper expressed, Po refused to take no for an answer: barring the doorway of the Sisters' cell, he kept either of the masters from interfering, while Tigress gently but firmly took the key from Mei Ling and went across to unlock Monkey's cell. As she did so, the simian kept his long-fingered hands gripping the bars until the last minute, his expression dour, filled with self-loathing, but also…a twinge of hope. "You really sure this is the right idea, Tigress? I…I wanna help and all, but I'm so afraid…"

 

"I think you've learned your lesson," the striped feline said, gently. "I trust you. I know you. You'll do the right thing. Besides, we need you…and you have the right to help make Chao pay for what he made you do." A fierce hatred burned in her ruby eyes as she clicked the key in the lock and pulled the door ajar.

 

Monkey stood frozen in the doorway for several moments, then shuffled out slowly—only to wrap his arms around Tigress in a tight embrace. "Thank you, Tigress. You won't regret this, I promise."

 

After several long moments of awkward silence, during which the simian patted Tai Lung—gently—on his battered shoulder in a comradely gesture, Po gave him a hug in return, and all the others looked at him with expressions of varying uncertainty, resentment, and forced acceptance, Monkey looked all around the circle of faces and then nodded. "Okay. First things first. I agree with Tai—we gotta go to Master Shifu, tell him what we found out. It may not be much, but it's more'n what he knew before, ya know? And maybe it just might mean more to him than it do to us, maybe it'll help him figure out who Chao is, how to stop him."

 

No one else had any better ideas—other than eating a late dinner and getting to bed early. And all of them, but especially Tai Lung, were galvanized to take care of this matter now without waiting a single minute more. They had no idea how long it would be before Chao struck again, or what he would do when he did. They hadn't a clue how weak he might have become, or when he would recover his strength—now might be the only chance they had to take the wizard out before he became invincible once more.

 

It might be they couldn't afford to wait until morning. And after all he had done—the kidnapping of Ping, the death of Zhuang, Tai Lung's travesty of a trial—no one, not even Po, was willing to allow Chao any further leeway. He was going down, one way or another, this very night, even if they had to travel a thousand miles and sacrifice all their lives to make it happen.

 

But when they had all made certain Ping was safely tucked into an empty guest room in the dormitory, and then filed into the night-shrouded Sacred Hall of Warriors to report their findings to Shifu, they found they didn't have to tell him anything to help him discern the truth about Chao, nor did they have to range very far to find their enemy themselves. Because the marble room was utterly empty, save for a single scroll that had been left unrolled on the stand which usually held the Sword of Heroes—also quite empty now. And to everyone's shock, the Moon Pool was…gone. The water had been released into some unseen passage beneath the palace, so that instead the rim of the basin enclosed only a dark, impenetrable hole opening into a vaulted nothingness. A single curving stairway led downward.

 

Po stared down into this from the edge of the pool, swallowing hard and wringing his paws nervously. He had no idea what could be down there, but considering it was underneath a mountain, hidden within and beneath tons of rock, it made him rather fearful to say the least. And somehow he had a feeling that whatever was down there, this was where Heian Chao could be found, where they would have to go to face him. Where else would Shifu have gone on such short notice, without telling any of them, and taking with him the most versatile and one of the most powerful kung fu artifacts known?

 

His suspicions were confirmed when Tai Lung scooped up the scroll and scanned the lines of hanzi for several moments, then let it drop in his paw while his face went white. "I…I don't believe it! I was right…he _was_ here all along…and Chao was telling me the truth..."

 

Hurrying to his side, Po took the scroll from his limp paw and read it. Like the snow leopard, it didn't take him long at all to notice what had to be Chao's real name on the list, and he was just as familiar with the names of the most famous and revered kung fu masters ever trained by the Jade Palace. The fact it was the oldest and first class listed told him all he needed to know. He looked up, met Tai Lung's gaze—and they both began talking at once, even breathlessly finishing each other's sentences.

 

"—so _that's_ why he could work his bad mojo on us so easily!"

 

" _Oogway_ trained him? Bollocks, no _wonder_ he's so powerful—"

 

"—you mean he lived a thousand years ago? But then he's gotta be—"

 

"—a thousand years old, yes! So glad you can count, panda… _Chi_ is life-force! With as much as he's got at his disposal, he could have lived back when the empire was first founded and still be here…"

 

"But why didn't Oogway tell us…?"

 

"Because he's just a crazy old turtle after all?" Tai Lung rolled his eyes.

 

"No…I think it's 'cause he wanted us t' learn it for ourselves. Or…maybe he was too ashamed t' tell us?"

 

"Ah, yes, the old bait-and-switch, trickster mentor test. I should have known." He crossed his arms resentfully—but then his face fell and he looked away uncomfortably. "Then again, you could well be right, panda. If Chao really was Oogway's student, and he imprisoned him somehow instead of killing him, you could well say he's as much as responsible for all that's happened. That's a damn huge mistake to make."

 

Po crossed his arms too. "Well, Master Oogway was pretty darn smart, I think. When ya know that much, an' you're that wise, your mistakes are gonna be bigger, hands down."

 

"Touché." The snow leopard paused again, then looked uncertain. "Is it just me, or does this all seem terribly familiar?"

 

The Dragon Warrior was about to ask what he meant when Tigress gasped. "Gods…you're absolutely right! You were Master Shifu's best student…and you lost yourself to darkness. Heian Chao was Oogway's student…he must have been extremely talented, if not the best, with how powerful he's become now…and he practically _is_ darkness incarnate."

 

Mei Ling stared at them, wide-eyed. "You mean…Chao did it once, and he made it happen again?"

 

Tigress nodded grimly. "I wouldn't be surprised if he makes it _keep_ happening, over and over, until he gets what he wants. It had to be why he helped release Tai Lung from Chorh-Gom as well."

 

Everyone was stunned into silence by this new understanding, and then finally Crane spoke up softly. "We have to stop him."

 

"He's right," Viper replied. "We have to go after Master Shifu. Even with the Sword of Heroes, there's no possible way he could handle Chao all by himself."

 

"Yeah!" Po burst out suddenly, a new wave of hope, excitement, and determination washing through him, brushing away all his negative and insecure thoughts. As everyone turned and looked at him, he smacked one paw into his other palm and nodded fervently. "We'll go down there, we'll find him, an' I'll Wuxi him. Simple as that, an' we'll be back for supper before bedtime."

 

Tai Lung groaned. "Are you out of your bloody mind? Didn't Shifu teach you _anything_ about the Wuxi Finger Hold?"

 

"Uh…no. He was kinda just tryin' t' scare th' heck outta me." Even this long after the fact, even knowing why Shifu had done it, and even allowing he himself had rather been asking for it, Po still rankled at this.

 

Sighing, the spotted feline slipped into lecture mode again while he pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Wuxi Finger Hold is, well, the ultimate expression of _chi_ in a single kung fu move. If you do it right, it draws all the _chi_ out of your opponent as well as yourself…and then it either completely obliterates him, or it utterly cleanses and purifies him. I for one am exceedingly grateful you took the second option with me, panda." Despite the stilted sarcasm in his voice, Po also heard the genuine gratitude there—not just that he'd survived, but that the panda had saved him in every way he could be saved.

 

"Right, I got that part," the bear said, not certain where he was going with this. "So…?"

 

"So, follow the bouncing ball here. Just what d'you suppose would happen if you used the ultimate _chi_ move…on the ultimate master of _chi_?"

 

It was so quiet in the Hall of Warriors, a pin could have been heard dropping on a balcony of the Imperial Palace. To Po's exceeding relief, no one else commented on the incredible naïveté (less charitable souls would say 'stupidity') of this particular gaffe, but no one would meet his gaze, either. Feeling his face flush bright scarlet, he shuffled his feet and looked away, mumbling to himself. _Okay, not my brightest idea, but c'mon, how was I supposed t' know that?_

 

Almost as if the gods were answering him, his eyes fell on the restored Urn of Whispering Warriors that Zeng and the other palace messengers had finally finished repairing in the weeks after the Wu Sisters' aborted attack on the palace. Remembering how gullible he'd been to actually believe it was speaking to him instead of Master Shifu— _Hey, there are five hundred spirits inside it, they could've been talkin' t' me, right?_ —he groaned and tried to make himself small and unnoticeable. He failed extravagantly.

 

"The least that would happen," Tai Lung said at last, however, not letting his point go, "is it blowing up in your face and doing absolutely nothing. Worse, you might just make him stronger…or allow him to turn it back on you, corrupt you, vaporize you…"

 

"Fine, fine, I get it," Po grumbled. "No pinky-flexing."

 

"And there was much rejoicing," Tai Lung drawled sardonically. Po ignored him.

 

"So what _do_ we do? How do we stop him?" He noticed out of the corner of his eye that everyone else looked just as worried, scared, and reluctant as he did. It wasn't that they didn't know what had to be done, or wish to do it. They just didn't know how.

 

"I don't know," the snow leopard said quietly, then clenched his fists. Slowly at first, then more rapidly, he began pacing and stalking about the room as he spoke; the discoveries they'd made, the knowledge they now possessed, the fact his father had gone into grave danger to face down their enemy, and learning Chao was so very close to them, closer than they'd ever dreamed, seemed to have infused him with new drive and purpose. Gone was his lethargy and tiredness, the last lingering effects of his drugging; forgotten were his injuries and beatings, he seemed to be filled with more strength, stamina, and determination than ever before.

 

"But we have to do it. So he's a wizard, so sodding what? He's still mortal, he's still got a body, he can still be killed if we can just get my paws—I mean, our paws, on him!" Rushing on past his verbal slip, he whirled about and looked from one kung fu warrior to the next, skewering them with his gimlet gaze when he didn't outright stab a finger in their direction. "Po and I at least have _chi_ of our own we can use against him. We've seen his creatures can die—Tigress stabbed Vachir, and the darkness couldn't heal him because it was a fatal wound. We just have to get close enough! We can't let this go on any longer—look what he's done to us!"

 

Turning about again, he snatched a weapon from a nearby rack and began whirling and brandishing it about to emphasize his words as he became ever more impassioned and intense. He stabbed a thumb at his own chest. "He made me lose my mind…drove me mad with lust for power and too damn much pride for my own good, 'til I was willing to kill hundreds of innocent people just to get a stupid scroll I was never meant to have! Not to mention doing his damnedest to turn me into his creature completely, releasing me on the Valley, _and_ almost getting me hanged in the process for something I didn't do!"

 

He pointed at Po. "He hired the Wu Sisters to kill you. Not only did they almost do so twice, they took your father and tried to kill him too!" He wheeled about on Mei Ling. "He made your sisters work for him, even threatened to kill them if they wouldn't." Or so Jia had told Po, and he in turn had told the others. The mountain cat, unsurprisingly, wasn't any more willing to believe it than the others, but still she looked uncertain, worried, and upset.

 

"He made them kill Zhuang, so now little Yi doesn't have a father anymore," Tai Lung growled at Crane, who flinched, ducked his head beneath his _li_ , and struggled to hold back tears. The snow leopard's voice was still rather uneven himself. "He made _you_ kill Mantis," he said softly to Monkey, who stiffened and bowed his head. "He took over Vachir, made him kill all those people, and he almost killed us, too," he said lastly to Tigress.

 

"Now our master is going after him, and we're going to abandon him? I don't think so." He swung his weapon about again. Po glanced at it—and blinked.

 

"Uh…Tai?"

 

"Are we kung fu warriors, or not? I fought the ten thousand demons of WuShon; you've fought countless armies and invaders; Po beat _me_. There's _nothing_ we can't do if we work together."

 

At any other time, Po would have been awed by the bravery, tenacity, and faith Tai Lung was displaying. But just now, he _really_ needed to get his friend's attention. "Tai?"

 

"Chao has to be stopped, he has to die, if the Valley and the empire are truly going to have peace! Are you with me?" His rallying cry echoed to the vaulted ceiling.

 

"Tai?"

 

" _What?_ " the snow leopard roared almost manically, whirling around with chest heaving to glare with blazing golden eyes at him.

 

Po just pointed at his side. Tai Lung looked down—and recoiled.

 

He was holding the Golden Spear.

 

For several long moments the Sacred Hall was again utterly silent, as all of them looked from the gleaming, burnished weapon to the one who was holding it without a single sign of discomfort, let alone smoke rising from burning paws. Then, deliberately, Tigress stepped forward and placed a paw securely on his shoulder. "Well," she said lightly, "it looks like you're good enough to carry it after all…"

 

Tai Lung gripped the haft of the spear tightly, and Po could see his eyes were wet and gleaming. But he didn't allow himself to cry, only taking a deep breath and puffing out his chest proudly—not in superiority, but in vindication. Looking around at everyone—from Mei Ling, who was grinning just as proudly, to Crane who had doffed his hat in honor, to Monkey who seemed utterly stunned, and then finally Viper who only had a slow, pleased smile turning up the corners of her mouth—the snow leopard said, "I think we have a chance now."

 

Tigress nodded and turned to also run her gaze around the ring of faces. "So do I."

 

With these words, everyone seemed set at once into action—and, inspired by Tai Lung's choice in weaponry, each of the kung fu warriors took down one of the sacred relics and artifacts in the hall to use as their standards in the battle ahead. Crane unerringly went to the pedestal where Twin Weasels' Ring Blades hung, since he had used them once before and now, finally, had his chance to employ them again. Tigress took down the _dao_ sabers of Master Dog, the Ninja Weapons, which she strapped to her back so the hilts stood at a forty-five-degree angle above her shoulders in the ancient tradition.

 

Viper fetched the Invisible Trident of Destiny, which she quipped would be even more effective when wielded in her coils since no one would expect a serpent to have a weapon at all, let alone one with such a long reach. Monkey took down the Iron Fist of Justice which had belonged to Jin Hu—having been made to fit an ox's wrist, it was large enough his slender hand could fit inside the hollow interior quite easily.

 

As for Po himself…it was no contest. With Tai Lung's help, he went to the last shrine in the line…took down with a series of loud, rattling clanks…and then, piece by piece, put on and strapped into place the legendary battle armor of Master Flying Rhino. It was a tight fit at first, but thanks to loosening a cinch here and tightening another there, he and the snow leopard soon got the armor to match his dimensions perfectly. And while just a few months ago he could not have even taken two steps in his new metallic garb without falling over in a sweaty heap, his intensive kung fu training and new muscle mass allowed the panda to handle it, if not effortlessly, then with much more ease than otherwise might have been expected. The gleaming golden Shield of Fire Monkey Pass completed the ensemble.

 

"You look damn good, Dragon Warrior," Tai Lung said, smiling as he brought his fist to meet Po's knuckle-to-knuckle in a fighter's salute.

 

"What're you talkin' about, I look _awesome_!" Po flipped back the visor of the helmet to grin at him.

 

"Fine, you look awesome." The snow leopard made a face, but it was more resigned and exasperated than truly disgusted. He turned then to look at Mei Ling. "I'd love to have you with us, Mei…but someone has to stay here and guard the Wu Sisters. And I can't think of anyone better suited to the task than you."

 

The mountain cat sighed, but then she nodded. "Believe me, I know when I'm outclassed. I may know all the thousand scrolls, but I don't have any special _chi_ abilities, and I wouldn't know how to fight someone like Chao." She smiled, then turned to look at Crane. Swallowing hard, she placed both paws on his slender shoulders before leaning in for a kiss. "Don't worry, I'll be all right. I'll be here when you get back. Now don't _you_ let anything happen to you."

 

Crane blushed, assured her that he would take good care of himself, and kissed her back. Then, once each of them had their new equipment situated and were as ready as they'd ever be, one by one they too all stepped into the Moon Pool and began their own descent.

                                                                      

* * *

 

Sighing and running her paw back through her fur, Mei Ling walked as slowly as she could back through the halls of the Jade Palace, heading down toward the lower level where her sisters were being held prisoner. It wasn't that she didn't want to stand guard over them—not only was she aware of how important a task this was, after all that had happened and all they had done, she would not dare allow even the slightest chance they could escape justice…and not pay for the pain they had brought to her life.

 

Nor was it that she was particularly eager to face down this Heian Chao; what she'd said to Tai Lung was true, Crane (and others) could praise her to the skies for her skills and mastery of the thousand scrolls, but she knew she had no place in the battle ahead. The only foes she could face were mortal ones, and the only ones among those which she was interested in facing had already been defeated and captured.

 

Not that she begrudged Po, Tigress, and Viper that victory; she'd been otherwise occupied with something equally as monumental, and all that mattered in the end was that the Wu Sisters were stopped. That being the case, sitting this one out was best for all concerned.

 

Except…whether or not she would be of any use in the battle, that didn't stop her from _wanting_ to be part of it. There was the truly epic nature of it all of course to appeal to her, a grand and incredible fight that would go down in history as one of the most amazing and legendary kung fu battles if not the most. There was the fact it would allow her to fight alongside Tigress, Po, and Tai Lung, three warriors who absolutely awed her with their skills.

 

There was the chance to take out someone of truly immense evil, and thus save the entirety of the empire in one fell swoop—fame and fortune didn't matter to her (if they did, she'd have pursued them long ago), but being known and respected didn't hurt a girl's chances…and in the end, the code of a kung fu warrior meant that saving so many innocent people and ensuring a lasting, unshakable peace throughout China was the greatest possible thing she could ever do with her life. All she could ever wish was to bring about such a glorious future for the empire.

 

And then there was the fact she feared strongly for Crane. Not that she believed him an incapable fighter who could not protect himself…but now that she had him, now they each knew the other loved them and they had sworn themselves one to the other, she was afraid she would lose him. Of course there was no guarantee, if such a thing were to occur, that her being there to fight alongside him would prevent it from happening…but she would feel better just being there.

 

And on the other hand, she did not relish being with her half-sisters. Because sure as anything, Xiu at least would begin taunting her once she regained consciousness, needling and mocking her for her devotion to the ways of virtue and peace, for fighting a futile battle for justice, and especially for being far too like their 'weak' father. She did not want to hear more of this, or the pitiful and pathetic excuses Chun and especially Jia would use to try and either sway her to their cause once again or defend their own black-hearted ways.

 

She knew Po at least believed the youngest assassin capable of redemption, and once he'd told her how Jia had spared him twice, had never truly seemed to wish him ill or try to hurt him, she had to admit that perhaps, just perhaps, he might be right. But even if some of Wu Xuan's good heart and nobility had bred true, had overcome the insanity and wickedness in the line of Wu Qing, it was not enough, could never be enough, for her to forgive Jia. Because Jia had still killed their father.

 

In a perverse way, however, she _did_ want to see them, if for no other reason than to hear what possible reasoning Jia could use to explain her actions, to justify the death of the snow leopard who had sired them all. It would be almost comical, in a twisted, vile way, hearing her try to come up with something convincing. It would give her something with which to mock Jia in turn—it might even provide ammunition for the assassins' own trial.

 

And in the end, she wanted to look into their eyes, to try and understand how they could be what they were, do what they had…to fix forever the cruelty, hatred, and disregard for the sanctity of life that they personified. It would allow her to completely cut them from her life forever, to watch as they were executed (if it came to that) without a hint of remorse…to know that she would be left without a single living blood relative save for her mother Xu Mei.

 

Yes. Yes, it was good she had stayed behind after all, and she _would_ learn the truth, one way or another.

 

With that resolution made, and the follow-up that once she was through with the Wu Sisters she would check in on Ping, then Chang and Hai, Mei Ling stalked down the stairs and into the lower storeroom hall with fists clenched and a stormy, stern determination on her narrow features…

 

By the time she had reached the 'cell', she had already run through in her mind all her past experiences with her half-sisters and their mother which had…colored her perceptions of them. Upon learning her father had once been with another woman, let alone produced children with her, Mei had been predisposed to view them all in the worst possible light. Wu Qing had certainly met her expectations, being the most cold, harsh, bitter woman she had ever met—the snow leopardess had frankly terrified her, and she had begged her father never to take her to see his old flame again, especially not to leave her alone with her.

 

It had taken little persuasion…Wu Xuan had already been disturbed himself by Qing's behavior, which he later confided was far crueler, more dispassionate, and more twisted than when he had known her—or else he would never have dared interact with her. After that visit, neither of them had traveled to the Himalayas again, so that the Sisters had to come to Kunlun Shan if they wished to see their father and sibling…

 

Xiu, as well, had disturbed Mei—the two had hated each other upon sight, and the feeling had only deepened and calcified with the passing years. Chun and Jia, on the other paw, had both shared a more amiable relationship with the mountain cat when they were all adolescents. The middle sister's calm, poised mien, her self-deprecating humor, and her wry, detached way of objectively looking at the world had seemed like a breath of fresh air to Mei, while Mei's friendly, open manner and guileless nature had helped the snow leopardess to be less stiff and excessively formal. Both of them had respected and admired each other's skill in battle. And Jia's bubbly personality, naughty, irreverent jokes, and freewheeling, devil-may-care attitude had brought a genuine charm, wit, and gaiety into Mei's life.

 

In the end, though, this could not last, Wu Qing's influence changed everything. And the mountain cat could only regard Chun with disgust and scorn as she became increasingly isolated, superior, and emotionless—until, as Mei had told her to her face the day they stopped speaking to each other, the green-eyed sister seemed not to care or have passion about anything, being 'just a big blah'.

 

Jia had been the last holdout, the one who still remained in her life for years, both of them watching from afar Xiu's increasing instability, with Mei's hatred, distrust, and determination to bring the budding assassin down equaled only by Jia's timidity, submissiveness, and outright fear. She recalled sadly, but also bitterly, how she had planned to expose Xiu's true nature to Master Hu so she would be thrown out of Li Dai in disgrace…but the violet-eyed sister had only tried to lighten the mood with acrobatic routines and all manner of clever but pointless tricks with her meteor hammer.

 

When Jia seemed more engrossed in making the weighted end of her weapon swing back and forth through the complex twisted patterns of its cord between her paw fingers than in badmouthing Xiu, Mei had decided that her half-sister was nothing but a ditz, vain and shallow as a puddle, too ridiculous to be taken seriously…and a coward.

 

And of course, years later, it had been she who had murdered their father in the end. She still didn't know how it was possible, but the evidence had been irrefutable. Had Xiu and her mother gotten to Jia in the end, corrupted her and ruined her once bright and happy soul? Or had the whole thing been an act of obfuscating stupidity all along, with Jia actually being the most diabolical and clever Wu Sister of them all?

 

She didn't know which it was. But now, finally, years after the fact, she would find out.

 

Yet when she finally arrived at the cell door, Mei Ling found she would be waiting longer than she thought for answers—because as she peered in the barred window to check on the prisoners, she saw to her horror that they were nowhere to be seen. Where once three inert, paralyzed forms had lain upon the grimy stone floor, there was now only empty straw and sackcloth, some of it stained with Xiu's blood but otherwise showing no signs anyone had ever been there.

 

Mei cursed under her breath. She didn't know how they'd managed it, but somehow the sisters had escaped. She and the others should never have left them alone to go to the Sacred Hall, someone should have stayed behind, or she should have come back sooner! Now they had the run of the palace, and while none of the kung fu warriors were present, and Po in particular was out of their reach, Ping was still a helpless target—one they would surely not hesitate to kill now that their master's plans were unraveling and they themselves would not receive the rewards they sought.

 

Then there was Chang and his wife, still weak and recovering from their traumatic ordeal…and of course, nothing whatsoever was stopping the assassins from discovering the same entrance into the catacombs beneath the Jade Mountain, putting two and two together, and following the others. She had to find out how they had escaped, and where they had gone, before it was too late.

 

Hurriedly she fitted the key to the lock, swung the door wide, and rushed inside. It was only after she'd stopped in the middle of the room, peering furtively about in the wan moonlight which barely cut through the thick, cloaking shadows, that she realized her idiocy…that just because she couldn't see the Wu Sisters anymore didn't mean they weren't still here.

 

She only had time to sense movement behind her, coming from both sides, and to hear the soft rustle of fabric, before something heavy, hard, but padded struck the back of her head. The pommel of a Fire Wheel, it had to be…

 

Collapsing on her knees, clutching at her throbbing scalp and struggling with all her might to remain conscious, Mei Ling forced her head up so she could peer blearily about. Her vision was swimming in and out of focus, everything was blurry and doubled…but as she fell back against a barrel, she saw a silhouette detach itself from the darkness, then a second and a third. The one closest to her, hefting the circular weapon she'd used to bring Mei down, was of course Wu Xiu—and despite the awful injuries dealt to her by both Po and Tigress, she seemed perfectly hale and hearty now. And, naturally, her black lips were parted in an exultant, cocky smirk.

 

"Wh-what… _how_?" Her words were slurred, her tongue feeling like a lead weight in her mouth.

 

"Hmmm, funny thing about Tai Tai's nerve strike," the blue-eyed killer observed with mocking zest, her smile becoming even more nasty, and more than a little unhinged. "Maybe you aren't aware of this, sister dear, but it works by drawing all your _chi_ together and locking it in place. But this has a very interesting side-effect…keeping all that life-force gathered has quite the healing effect on the body, and it becomes even stronger the longer you're frozen like that. Especially when the _chi_ of someone as 'pure' and powerful as the Dragon Warrior is involved."

 

Tapping her lip artfully, Xiu made a flippant gesture with her war fan as she placed her fire wheel back on her belt. "As for how we got free of the Leopard Claw itself…I'm sure you know that any kung fu master with sufficient will and determination can break free of such paralysis in time. That rather describes me to a tee…and I was able to then free my sisters. Child's play."

 

"Yeah, as long as you've got someone really powerful who needs you backing you up, like Heian Chao," Jia muttered. Xiu pointedly ignored her, while Mei Ling gasped, a chill running through her at the implication. Was she suggesting Chao himself had freed them, had come right into the cell to do so while the others were preoccupied? Well, why not, it seemed he'd done the same thing with Tai Lung... Or perhaps that he had simply trained her in how to break free of a _chi_ hold. Even that possibility was decidedly unsettling, for what else might he have taught her...?

 

"I won't…let you get away with this," the mountain cat groaned, still gripping her head. "I'll come after you. Don't think…this is the end…"

 

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is." The eldest Wu Sister was colder, crueler, and more unrelenting than she'd ever heard her. "Perhaps Chao was right, perhaps I did underestimate the panda. But not anymore. Now that I know what he can do…the gloves are off. This isn't about the money anymore. This is about reputation—and settling a score. If I can still claim Tai Lung, all for the good. But one way or another, the Dragon Warrior isn't going to live to see the sunrise. Even if I have to die myself to make sure of it. Even if Tai Lung, too, loses his life in the process." Xiu's eyes were alight with a fervent, manic fire.

 

"I hope that will let Chao defeat you, grant him all the power he craves…all he'll need to exalt me as he promised. But either way…it will be delicious indeed, a fitting end to this long and difficult commission…" Behind her, Mei noticed that both of her sisters, but especially Jia, did not appear to be quite as sanguine with these pronouncements—Chun was horrified and scornful, and the youngest assassin was openly glaring at the back of Xiu's head. If looks could kill, her sister would be dead. But this made no sense.

 

Was she just seeing things, thanks to her head injury? Yes, that had to be it, there was no way either of them would cease being the professional, heartless killers they were born and bred to be. Even Jia's unrequited lust for Tai Lung, and a certain teasing camaraderie with Po, could not account for this. There could be nothing more to explain such a reaction…could there?

 

"Come on," Xiu said after a few moments of silence. "We have an appointment to keep, and several oaths to fulfill. I'd kill you now, Mei, but when your time comes, I really want to _savor_ it. And in all honesty…you're not even worth it. I mean, how foolish could you be, to fall for the old 'vanishing prisoner' trick? You may not have known we were recovering, but if you'd been thinking, you'd have realized my very long silence ever since Wu Dan had to mean I was planning something…"

 

She shook her head sadly, as if she actually regretted her half-sister's lapse in judgment. "Poor form, my dear, you really are slipping…" She turned, gathering her black cloak about her, and stepped out the door into the hallway, followed by Chun and then lastly Jia. Once they had all exited the cell, Xiu hauled the door closed with a firm slam, making quite sure the lock clicked into place…sealing Mei in.

 

As their footfalls began to recede down the corridor, the mountain cat closed her eyes, fought the urge to pound the floor or her head in impotent fury—she didn't need a worse headache than she already had, and bruising her fists wouldn't help either. Just as she was swearing a blue streak and fighting back tears of mingled rage and despair, she heard something from the door…a faint sniffle. She looked up.

 

Jia still stood there, hovering close, watching silently…and tears were running down her cheeks. When she saw Mei looking, she flinched—but then she whispered four words: "I'm sorry, Mei Mei."

 

The Li Dai graduate stared at her half-sister in disbelief, once again trying to guess if she were merely hallucinating. When Jia refused to vanish, and her contrite, gentle expression did not change, Mei Ling forced herself to sit up and shoot her as direct and unwavering a glare as she could muster.

 

"No, you're not," she said huskily. "If you were, you wouldn't have shut me in here. You wouldn't be going after Po and Tai Lung—someone you supposedly like and don't want to hurt, a man you profess to love." She paused, then snapped the next words so fiercely they almost crackled in the air. "You wouldn't have killed our father."

 

Lip trembling visibly, the snow leopardess looked rather pathetic and ineffectual, not her usual perky, fair-weather self. She glanced once over her shoulder, after the others, then spoke again in that same whisper. "I don't have a choice, and you know it. She'll kill me if I don't do what she wants. If she doesn't, Chao will for sure. I…I'll do my best to keep Po and Tai Tai safe, and I'm sorry about Zhuang, I tried to stop Xiu…but there's only so much I can do. It's out of my paws now."

 

If she were in better possession of her faculties, and if she weren't afraid of attracting Xiu's baleful attention, Mei Ling would have thrown back her head and laughed derisively. As it was, she did sneer and growl softly. "We always have choices, Jia. Even people like you who let others do the thinking for them. And I'm supposed to believe you, and trust you now? Why—because you decided to play with your victim, give him a fighting chance, instead of outright killing him like you did Father? Because you fooled Po with your 'sweetness and light' routine? Well, I've known you longer, Jia. It's going to take a lot more than that before I ever look at you in a different light…"

 

"Jia!" Xiu's voice called peremptorily from the distance, sounding as if it came from the staircase to the upper floors. "What do you think you're doing? Get a move on, we haven't got all night!"

 

The violet-eyed spotted cat flinched yet again, and instinctively began to obey, drawing the hood of her cloak up around her head and turning away. But at the last second, she looked back yet again. "Believe what you want, Mei. You always have. But there's one thing I'm not guilty of…and the sooner you realize that, the better it'll be for all of us. I didn't kill Father. Xiu did." And with that, she too disappeared from sight.

 

For at least five minutes, Mei sat there, leaning against the barrel and staring at the empty window with her jaw unslung. It couldn't be…it had to be just another deception, another way to escape blame and confuse the issue, make her think her half-sister was an innocent victim to be pitied and sympathized with. On the other paw…at the time, she had been so stricken with outrage, grief, and hatred precisely because it had seemed impossible Jia could commit such an act of betrayal, because she had been the one Wu Sister who had always been kind, loving, and accepting toward Wu Xuan.

 

If there was one person she _would_ believe would have killed their father, it _was_ Xiu. And she certainly wouldn't put it past Xiu to frame Jia for the deed, both to gain a manipulative hold over the youngest sister and to drive a wedge between her and Mei. Isolate Jia, make it so Mei didn't trust her anymore, so she felt she had no choice but to consign herself to the assassin's life…yes, that fit Xiu perfectly.

 

But…there was no proof. And Jia knew this of her eldest sister just as well as Mei did. She could have made up such a story precisely because she knew it would have the ring of truth. There was only one way to know for sure…to either procure a confession from Xiu, or to obtain enough evidence from Jia that her tale could no longer be anything but genuine. Both of these required her to go after the Sisters—something she had to do anyway, if she was to save Po and Tai Lung from Xiu's wrath…if their father's soul was to be at peace.

 

Rubbing at her aching head yet again, the mountain cat forced a grim, faint smile as she levered herself to her feet with the aid of the barrel. _Baba, are you watching? I'm going to make you proud…_ Once she felt steady enough, she lurched over to the door, and there leaned against it while she fished about in a pouch she wore at her belt. Finally, after several worrisome minutes, she produced what she was looking for—a set of long, thin, iron tools with very suspicious-looking hooks at one end.

 

"It's a good thing I'm my father's daughter in more ways than one," Mei Ling murmured with satisfaction into the night shadows. Then, as patiently as she could and as slowly as she dared, the feline began using the lock picks upon the door plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The opening line of this chapter some of you may recognize as a play on a Phoebus line in _Hunchback of Notre Dame_ , just as Tai's later line after convincing Po not to use the Wuxi Finger Hold again is taken from Monty Python. Yay! Of course Mei's eventual opinion about Chun is similar to that of Zuko in _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ regarding Mai. Elsewhere, once again I'm referencing Peter's fic "Monkey in the Middle" with his brother Lei being the one to defend Bao. Monkey's joke regarding Chao and Tai Lung is one I couldn't resist including—I know you were all thinking it! And yes you saw right, Jia succeeded in inventing the yo-yo centuries before anyone else using a meteor hammer. ;)
> 
> Lastly, as I said way back in Chapter 9, the artifacts in the Hall of Warriors did become very important in the story again—and thanks to what you learned in the previous chapter, I think that's only fitting.


	40. The Vault of Heroes

 

 

Hundreds of steps passed by beneath Shifu's feet, more even than there were in the stairs descending the side of the Jade Mountain—something which raised a certain suspicion in his mind just how far down he was going, and just where the Vault of Heroes was actually located. The entire journey passed by in utter silence…this far beneath the earth, he could not hear animals and birds in the night, nor even the wind blowing across the slopes, and no sounds would reach him from the palace above even if there were any awake and active to make them, he wagered.

 

All he could hear was his own breathing, harsh and stentorian in his hugely pricked ears, and even though he did his best to focus on his training, to achieve some semblance of calm, inner peace, and firm self-control through brief, meditative exercises, the panda found that he remained nevertheless as tense as a bowstring and as nervous as a warrior entering his first battle.

 

Part of it, of course, was his descent into the unknown, his having no idea just what might lie in wait for him below, and the fact that for all his confidence and determination, he was going into this completely alone, facing a _chi_ wizard with powers of unimaginable proportions who had shown no compunctions whatsoever about killing children or his own best friends—and doing so with nothing to back him up but his wits and kung fu skills (however considerable they were) and the Sword of Heroes.

 

Another part, by contrast, was his very refusal to let any of this paralyze or unman him: he could not stay calm, he remained on edge and focusing on everything around him for any sign of danger, not just out of fear but out of excitement and ferocious pride. He _wanted_ to test his mettle against Chao, he _wanted_ to finally enter into battle on his own terms and make use of his own particular specialties in combat, and he _wanted_ to personally take out the one who had caused so much trouble…who had hurt him, his son, his master, and the Valley so directly.

 

He was not about to get overconfident, to believe he could do what no one else, not even Oogway, had done. But all the same, it mattered more to him than anything that even if he had to lose his life in the process, Heian Chao had to finally be laid to rest and sent on to his long-delayed and most certainly horrific judgment before the Lords of Death. And he believed he could bring this to pass…or at least weaken and distract the mage sufficiently for others to do it for him.

 

For he had quite deliberately left the incriminating scroll behind for his students to discover…and he knew that even if no one else were willing to do so, Tai Lung would be bound and determined to follow. He would rally the others, and together they would all defeat their enemy. He just needed to give them time—and batter down Chao's defenses before they arrived…

 

At last he reached the bottom of the stairs, breaking his train of thought, and Shifu looked up to peer ahead of him. There was no light to speak of, save what trickled weakly down from the Moon Pool above like a faint, shimmering river of silver-gray, and the inherent mystical green light of the sword he carried. But it was enough to illuminate at least a few feet before his face and up along the walls. Enough to show him that he stood in a large, looming passage that, while dry now, looked to have been eroded by rushing water eons ago…leaving behind a solitary tunnel burrowing forward and down beneath the core of the mountain, in the direction of the village unless he missed his guess.

 

Somewhere far ahead, a faint light shone whose source could not be discerned, and in the walls he saw embedded numerous crystals and unpolished gemstones which reflected and refracted the light into a constant but flickering luminescence. Rather pretty, in a geologic and natural way, but otherwise of no moment. And it didn't reveal much of anything save, again, the ribbed walls and the occasional vaulted buttress of the ceiling supporting the palace high above. He would have to go farther to see more…he would have to go farther, period, if he intended to find Chao, since the wizard was obviously not here.

 

Taking another deep breath, and flexing his fingers around the sword's hilt in case he were called upon to suddenly bring it into play, Shifu once again started forward.

 

He had no idea how long he traversed the passageway, or how far he traveled—although it couldn't possibly be so, he could almost swear he'd traveled completely beyond the confines of the Valley. By the time the light ahead of him had finally grown powerful enough that he no longer had to squint or strain his eyes in the darkness, the panda had switched the Sword of Heroes from one hand to the other at least five times, and the grip he applied to Oogway's staff was so strong his knuckles were almost permanently white.

 

Not to mention his thoughts had run the same ragged course so many times that he was certain he could implement and act out his strategy in his sleep. He'd had enough time to become severely worried, going over every possible way things could go wrong, until he'd worked himself up to a fever pitch. But he wouldn't allow himself to flee or back down, or even to show his fear let alone give in to it. He had a duty to fulfill, and a personal oath as well.

 

And it wasn't as if he'd never gone into battle afraid before—that was only the sign of true courage, fighting on even though one was terrified of the outcome. He would not pat himself on the back for this…he simply knew it as a sign that he could, indeed, succeed if he only pressed onward.

 

On the other hand, when he finally emerged from the passage to stand within the Vault of Heroes at last, the master of the Jade Palace had to be grateful for an entirely different emotion that, for a few moments at least, utterly drove away his fear and uncertainty: absolute wonder and awe.

 

Where the passage debouched, the roof of the underground cavern suddenly sailed upward until it was nearly lost in the vast darkness of the looming mountain rock above—it had to be at least a thousand feet high, possibly more. The light, he saw, did not emanate from torches, lamps, or any other form of light fixture but instead came from the very walls themselves…for here the crystal and gemstones which had only infrequently dotted the tunnel or were occasionally exposed as veins of shining jewel were now completely uncovered, sheathing almost the entirety of the cavern walls as well as protruding from the ceiling and floor in odd, angular stalactites and stalagmites. Everything glowed with an ethereal, otherworldly light, a mixture of cool violets, bold sky blues, and gentle spring greens that cast sharp shadows and lent everything a strange, mysterious halo…as if it were not quite real, as if he had entered another world, even crossed over into the spirit realm.

 

But this was not the extent of the beauty and amazing power of this place. For where the walls were not adorned with gleaming precious stone, and where natural stalactites and stalagmites had grown together over centuries of calcified deposits to form enormous columns of rock, the cavern had been carved to resemble an amphitheater or the Imperial throne room. Pillar after pillar, towering the entire height of the chamber, receding in endless rows away from him for as far as his eye could see, with numerous inscriptions, friezes, and other sculptures fashioned from their otherwise smooth surfaces and colossal buttresses atop each to support the thousands of tons of rock overhead.

 

And beyond even this was the fact that, standing between each pillar and guarding the way like immense sentinels forever on watch, were statues—over a hundred feet high, two rows of them, leading straight and true down the vaulted chamber and then gradually angling to the side to encircle the vast rotunda into which it opened. Fashioned from the same calcite as the columns so that each was an eerie, ghostly-pale white rather than the usual gray or black, they had each been made to resemble animals of the Valley as well as the empire in general. Not just any animals, Shifu saw, but very familiar ones…for each had been cast in the image of a famous kung fu master of ancient times.

 

He spied the eight masters whom he had just witnessed dying so tragically in Oogway's memories—the Three Lions, each snarling, gritting his fangs, or at least frowning thunderously to warn away trespassers, armed with their trademark weapons; Twin Weasels, back to back in their flowing cloaks; Flying Rhino with a mace easily as large as his own arm and head; Jin Hu, his Iron Fist lifted in defiance; and Master Dog with his blades crossed before his chest.

 

He saw as well other figures he recognized—Oogway, balanced on one foot with his staff across both hands; Grand Master Viper, hissing menacingly atop his coils; the Ninja Elephant looking surprisingly graceful and poised atop one foot, one of a pair of _dao_ sabers clutched in his trunk; Master Golden Takin who had built the Jade Palace kwoon, his enormous, thickly-furred and muscled body crowned by a colossal rack of horns to vie with Iron Ox's, their stone seeming to be coated with some manner of gold dust to make them blaze with a buttery fire above his wise face.

 

And then there were still others Shifu did not recognize: the Mongolian falcon with her wings spread wide, as if about to leap into motion and swoop down toward her prey; the goose wrapped in concealing monk's robes; the proud and dignified wolf with what seemed to be only one eye; a fox bearing a bow and arrows, his stone features somehow denoting mischief and cleverness despite the distance; a mountain cat rather like Mei Ling, although she bore Wind and Fire Wheels; a gorilla with a set of nunchaku; a well-developed tiger easily as bulky as Flying Rhino or Jin Hu, although his paws were clasped in proper kung fu fashion and his expression seemed serene, gentle, even forgiving; what he could swear was a dragon, the counterpart to the great golden head that had held its namesake scroll for a thousand years…

 

In rapt bemusement, Shifu paced down the length of the room, gazing upward at the carved stone faces looming near the cavern roof, the aged pillars which looked more at home in some vast, ancient city, the gorgeous crystal formations that continued to shine preternaturally and lend their effulgence to what otherwise would have been a shadowy, impenetrably black chamber. With one hand on Oogway's staff where it was shoved through his belt and the other grasping the Sword of Heroes like a talisman to ward away evil, the red panda moved onward toward his goal, the far side of the chamber.

 

And there at last, as he came within sight of some sort of fissure or cleft in the rear wall where the darkness was even more intense and disconcerting—seeing as no amount of mystical light from the Vault seemed to reach it—he found what he had come to find. Projecting from this break in the stone was a rocky outcropping with a strange hollow within it, as if worn away by countless years of water washing and swirling across it, a stone much darker than the surrounding rock…as if it had been stained or even scorched. Surely the place where their secret enemy had lain imprisoned for nine hundred years.

 

Perched atop it—or rather, _draped_ across it in a posture that was as offensive as it was lazy—his wings unfurled to clasp the rock as if it were a throne fashioned just for him, and with a constant, roiling stream of misty black _chi_ flowing from him to form a dark, churning cloak, was Heian Chao.

 

On the other side of a low, rippling, stone-lined pool whose waters reflected the ever-present phosphorescent crystals, Shifu stopped. Placing the Sword of Heroes before him, point-downward, he gripped the pommel tightly and gazed past it at the falcon's shrouded figure and his now-exposed features. Although he was a thousand years old, he appeared not to have aged a day from how he had appeared in Oogway's memories—although his head feathers were all now pitch-black, and his eyes seemed to have permanently become that chilling, unsettling crimson. These 'cosmetic' changes seemed due to his corruption and darkness, not his age…the amount of _chi_ it must have taken to perfectly preserve his body must have been immense indeed.

 

"So." The word seemed to fall flat, sinking to rest dully on the cavern floor. But still he persevered. "Heian Chao. I've been hearing your name an awful lot lately, and learning all manner of things about you."

 

"Really?" The wizard sounded vaguely amused, as well as more than a little smug. "Why, Master Shifu, I truly am flattered. My thanks for taking an interest in one as humble and unassuming as myself."

 

Shifu gritted his teeth, forcing it into a brittle, pasted-on smile. "How could I not? You have certainly made…quite a stir in the Valley. With all the attention you've been drawing, I couldn't resist putting in an appearance. It was, after all, long past time that we meet."

 

A derisive snort echoed in the chamber, and the avian sat up on the boulder, his ebony cloak shimmering and undulating hypnotically in endless waves across the floor. "Oh? And yet you took significantly longer than I expected to become riled enough to seek me out, let alone actually come questing for me. Frankly, I believed you'd be here as soon as you arrived back from Chorh-Gom. Certainly after that peasant went to the realm of the gods." Chao slowly shook his head, as if truly saddened by this failure. "And this is the vaunted power you call love? Such a poor motivator, it seems…"

 

He knew what Chao was doing, of course, or attempting to do. Unfortunately, it didn't keep the taunting from being effective; fortunately, his awareness of the ploy at least allowed him to maintain something of a level head. "I wasn't about to go racing off without a plan, a weapon, an understanding of who and what you were, or anything," he retorted. _Never mind that your current situation is hardly an improvement, since you still didn't come up with a better plan than 'Chao dies now'._

 

"Believe me, my love for Tai Lung is more than sufficient motivation. The time has come to end you at last, Chao." He pronounced his intentions for the falcon with as close to a crack of doom as he could muster—and between him, the staff, and the wall, that was pretty damn close. Enough for him to rise proudly to his full height and offer the most determined and wintry of glares, anyway.

 

Scarlet eyes blinked slowly, almost with extreme boredom, and he swore the mage was about to cover his beak to stifle a yawn. "You? All by yourself? I see you've brought the Hou brothers' little parlor-trick blade, and you learned your lessons from Oogway well—most of them. But don't you think you're suffering from delusions of grandeur?"

 

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Shifu chuckled coldly.

 

"Ah, but the difference between us," Chao remarked easily, conversationally, "is that I have actually achieved my dreams, or come rather nigh to them. You…have not. Truly, what _have_ you done with your life, Shifu?" Now scorn entered his voice, and the fact the falcon actually dared to sit in judgment of him only infuriated him all the more. "Always second to your master. None of your students were yours, they were all chosen for you save the harlot Tigress." _You are **so** lucky she didn't hear that. You are **not** lucky that I **did**_.

 

"The Five had countless battles, won the praise and adulation of the people, and you? You count yourself honored if Chen even bothers to notice you whenever he visits the Valley. You never trained the Dragon Warrior—in fact you didn't recognize him when he was rubbed right in your wizened face! And as for Tai Lung…" If he didn't know better, he'd believe there was genuine anger in Chao's voice now. It certainly showed in the ominous glower he wore, and the burning blaze within his hollow, hellish orbs.

 

"I know what you believe—that everything he suffered, all his pain and torment and grief, can be laid at my door. But I would never have had a chance to influence him, to inflame his passions and aggressions and make him my servant, if _you_ had not failed him so utterly. You left him to rot in prison, and if you had not sent that ridiculous goose to increase security, he would be imprisoned still. And in the end, I only nurtured and enhanced what was already there, deep within…and I did so to grant him power, strength, glory. I made him _better_.

 

"You? You planted the seeds, you were blind to what he needed, you denied him a father's love and pride in his accomplishments. Why? Because you _assumed_ he knew? And for what? Only to betray him." Chao shook his head slowly, but then his cruel, severe scowl turned into a sinister grin. "I must thank you again, therefore…for giving me the key to freeing him, and for making my corruption that much easier. Never fear, once I have dealt with you I will make certain he never suffers so again…he will have the greatness you denied him in my new order. That I guarantee…"

 

That Chao dared speak to him of such things, to pontificate on matters of paternal affection and familial bonds when his blackened heart and withered soul were as far from love as it was possible to be, would normally have sent Shifu into a spiral of hatred and wrath from which he might never have recovered. And of course taunting him about his mistake with Zeng, and revealing he was ultimately the one behind the prison break, was perfectly in character and something he should have put together, once he knew from Oogway how long Chao had been influencing his son. But his hand was stayed—at least for the moment—and his voice locked in his throat by one thing: everything the mage said, at least when it came to how Tai Lung's darkness had been created and all the ways in which he had failed him as a father, _was all true_.

 

Staring at the falcon bleakly, despairingly, the panda squeezed his fingers harder around the hilt of the Sword of Heroes until his hand, and in fact his entire arm, trembled and twitched violently. He could even hear the sound of grating stone as the weapon's tip ground into the rock beneath it. How one such as Chao could see and understand, could have such insight, was beyond him…but it somehow both sent him reeling in horrified self-loathing—and hardened his backbone, making him even more determined to defeat this odious monster.

 

Because if Chao was right about him…then as he had sworn before on more than one occasion, Shifu would be spending the rest of his life making it up to Tai Lung, trying to undo the damage he had done. And he could not do so until Chao himself were no longer there to interfere.

 

"You may be right," the panda conceded at last. "But if that is so, I still have a chance to set a proper example thanks to your gift of freedom, and prove to Tai Lung that I, too, have learned my lesson. Because there is one thing I can do, that I am still capable of, that you do not have—because you gave it up long ago, or never had it to begin with." He narrowed his eyes assessingly. " _I_ can change. You cannot. I can learn from my mistakes, atone for them—but you believe you've never made any, that you have always been in the right, seen the true way, and all else is the fault of others and their limitations, never you and your crouching in perceived perfection."

 

Feeling more and more confident, as well as defiant, Shifu wrenched the sword from the floor and at last raised it in one hand, adopting the appropriate guard position. "But you're wrong. You can't grow, you will _never_ be more than a poor shadow clinging desperately to things beyond your reach, things which can never be yours. There can be no light without shadow...but no matter how much darkness you cast over the world, you can't ever douse the light, not fully. Because all it takes is the flame of one...small...candle to drive the darkness back! There isn't enough darkness in all the world, not even in your filthy soul, to put that light out. So where's the true power now?"

 

He angled the blade so that the light of the crystals reflected from it, straight into Chao's contemptuous, hateful eyes. "Tai Lung _will_ have greatness. But it shall not be through you…because you will not be there to touch him, ever again. Not so long as I have breath in me."

 

Utter silence descended over the Vault of Heroes, although somewhere in the back of his mind, Shifu swore he felt approval, respect, and even a touch of awe radiating out at him—from the statues, from the gods whom Oogway had said held sway here, or from some source unknown.

 

Before him, Chao had at last risen from his seat, and while he had not launched into a furious assault nor unleashed screeching shrieks as he had when his scheme against Tai Lung had failed, his form somehow seemed to become even darker—impenetrably so, a window into an endless abyss of insanity and terror, his cloak expanding and churning to form a pulsing ball of negative energy that rose along the walls, absorbing all light and hope. And his expression was truly a rictus of pure hatred and murderous impulses.

 

"That shall easily be remedied, I think," the falcon whispered harshly. "You will rue those words, when you have tasted my true power…the power of a soul that has been released from the chains of morality…" Imperiously, confidently, he gestured.

 

But nothing happened. Shifu felt a faint wash of heat billow across his face, along with a miasma like the stench of brimstone and sulfur, and a definite wave of viciousness and nastiness like nothing he'd ever felt before. But whatever the mystical gesture had been intended to do, it had obviously failed. Remembering what his master had told him, and how each strike of the staff upon a point in the Sacred Hall of Warriors had only increased his sense of steadiness, calm, and focus, Shifu allowed a faint smile to flicker over his face. "Why, whatever is the matter, Chao? Having a little trouble with your _chi_?"

 

For a moment, the open shock and disbelief on his beaked face was exactly as it had been a thousand years before, in the memory of his confrontation with the turtle who had amazingly withstood his assault. Then Heian Chao glared, seeming to swell larger and more dangerous within his robes, the first true display of his temper making itself known. "No. No, this _cannot_ be, I—" His eyes widened, flaring with a fiery light as smoldering as the volcanoes of Tengchong, and he snarled openly. " _Oogway!_ "

 

"That's right," Shifu said smugly. "Didn't you notice his hand on the palace, and on all within it? Not even recognizing your own teacher's _chi_ signature…and you call yourself a master."

 

A very ugly, inarticulate cry escaped his throat, and then Chao glided a menacing pace closer, looming ever higher as he raised his chin so that the sharp razor of his beak angled up above Shifu as if ready to descend at any moment. "Even in death, he attempts to deny me my destiny," he hissed. "Very well then, so be it. If I cannot control you, make you mine…no matter. I am hardly helpless."

 

From within the shadows cloaking him, the falcon removed a set of familiar weapons—an Emei piercer on its ring and a claw bracer. Fitting them into place on his wing feathers, he took up a Yue Shi San Shou stance—the first of the one hundred and eight Seize Grabs. "I shall simply have to do it the other way."

 

Shifu knew, of course, that Chao still had access to his own dark _chi_ to use in various awful and unfair manners against him—just because he could no longer possess or manipulate his opponent directly didn't mean he couldn't find some other way to use his repugnant, unholy sorcery to lay the panda low. But at least this way, the playing field had been somewhat leveled. Chao was still a master of Eagle Claw, but putting this in the realm of kung fu, while he was armed with the Sword of Heroes…it meant he just might have more of a chance than he'd hoped.

 

Thanking Oogway under his breath, he chuckled softly and nodded to his adversary. "Be my guest," he said lightly—and without warning, springing from a standing start, Shifu flung himself forward, pushing off with one foot so as to perform a complete mid-air somersault, the blade of his weapon flashing in the light as he brought it down in a violent, double-handed, overhand blow. Chao backflipped away from him, over the boulder, only to catch himself with both wings flung outwards, dove toward him with his claw bracer slashing down to cut through the side of Shifu's robe—and the battle was on.

 

Not about to allow his opponent the chance to prepare another attack, or even to breathe, the panda leaped again, swinging the Sword of Heroes in a horizontal crescent. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when Chao evaded him again, this time by hurling himself high into the air only to spread his wings and sail in ever-tightening, rising spirals toward the distant roof of the cavern. Cursing under his breath, Shifu pursued him the only way available to him—with a strike of his sword blade against the floor to give him the added boost and momentum, he flung himself up onto the knee of the nearest statue, the one of the vulpine archer.

 

He didn't stay there however, only using the stone projection as a launching point as he sprang again and again, climbing ever higher after the wizard. He knew Chao was baiting him, of course, surely leading him into as precarious and dangerous a position as possible. But allowing the falcon to divebomb him from such a great height wasn't an option either, and standing upon the statue would put him in the right place to get in some excellent shots—changing the battlefield to one of three hundred and sixty degrees and three dimensions only provided even more opportunities for him. And he trusted his balance enough to make his perch more secure than it might otherwise seem.

 

By the time he'd reached the fox's arm and was racing up the relatively slender length of his stone bow—the better to see his enemy coming through the open air all around him—Chao had descended from where he'd landed atop the statue's nearest ear and indeed came stooping down with a blood-curdling, predatory shriek. Shifu was ready for him, one leg thrust behind him for support as he brought his blade around to meet the attack. Once, twice, thrice he blocked the wizard's weapons, sparks flying every time the metal slashed and met, and then the blows came in too rapid a flurry for him to discern one from another.

 

There was only a confused sense of flowing darkness, rustling fabric and feathers, the vermilion blaze of Chao's maddened eyes streaking through the air as he plunged again and again, from one angle after another in a frenzied, patternless chaos—yet he had the sense there was a method to it after all, a clever plan that was hidden behind seeming randomness.

 

Suddenly, with an impossible speed, the avian twisted in mid-air to strike back at Shifu again. Having just parried a blow already, the panda was caught unprepared with his sword held too high, and Chao's claw bracer slashed deeply along one arm. Crying out in pain, he instinctively clutched at the cut with one hand—and while his defenses were thus lowered, the _chi_ master whirled about to hover unnaturally in the emptiness of the Vault's still air, both wings flung outward to unleash a churning mass of what looked like glittering onyx liquid straight toward him.

 

It matched precisely the description Tigress, Po, and Viper had given of the Pool of Sacred Tears after its tainting, and while he didn't think it would have the same effects on living tissue—at least, he hoped and prayed not—Shifu still thought it best not to let it touch him if he could avoid it.

 

Dodging to the side and farther up the narrow arm of the bow, he just missed being struck by the dark _chi_ by inches. But Heian Chao, focused and driven as never before, unleashed one blast of writhing, disturbing energy after another, pursuing Shifu up the statue with a relentlessness that was both fiendish and terrifying. At least one flood of _chi_ came close to hitting its mark, but at the last second he managed to interpose the Sword of Heroes between himself and the mystic surge—and the jade dragon carving blazed a brighter green as the blade reflected the _chi_ back the way it had come.

 

Relief and vindication burned inside him, and the next time Chao attacked, Shifu was on his feet and swinging his weapon just as if he were again meeting the claw bracer. This time when he brought the broadsword across and down, the same sort of arc of super-sharpened air as Tai Lung had used over twenty years ago at Yunxian burst outward—and as it had the cliff of WuShon, it cut completely through the dark _chi_ , scattering its energies into the ether.

 

Shifu grinned fiercely at this, unable to fight back the exultation and pride which swelled in his heart. He knew he had chosen well in his weapon. He was doing it; he could meet whatever Chao threw at him and survive it. _He could win_.

 

More minutes passed breathlessly as he met, slashed, or otherwise deflected one attack after another, and sweat began to trickle down into his eyes at the extreme concentration it took to continue holding off his adversary, but Shifu did not let this deter him in the slightest. He only ignored the trickling blood in his fur and the stinging agony from his arm and continued swinging and slashing, blocking each sorcerous attack even as they drove him back along his vanishing support. It was not until Chao sent two blasts, one right after another, that he made his mistake—he dodged the first and swung the Sword of Heroes at the second, but the odd angle he'd been forced into by his evasive maneuver made the dark _chi_ reflect up just as unexpectedly…right into his own face.

 

The force of the blast threw him backwards, while the shock of it slowed his reaction time just enough—he flew off the edge of the stone bow, and when he grasped for the edge his fingers just missed it by inches. Then he was falling, plummeting down through the cavern as he swore he heard Chao's satisfied laughter ringing in the air, twisting about to try and gain some view of what lay in store for him and how he could save himself.

 

As his robes snapped and rippled vigorously around him, Shifu at last saw a flat, almost horizontal ledge of stone extending out into the gulf beneath him—a sword blade, he saw, held by the statue of the one-eyed wolf. Hurriedly he swung the Sword of Heroes about and flapped his arms a bit ridiculously.

 

It was sufficient to change the path of his descent just enough. With a solid, painful smack, he landed on the lupine's weapon, but managed to spare himself any worse injury by digging the edge of his own blade into the rock, slowing his uncontrolled tumble down the ledge to a gentle slide. By the time he'd fetched up against the sword's hilt, he was intimately acquainted with each and every cut, bruise, and welt on his body, knowing all their names as well as those of their cousins twice removed—but he also felt a surge of adrenaline born of fear, resentment, and determination. He had been caught off-guard once, he would not be so again!

 

A rustle of feathers from above told him Chao was once more coming back into the fray. With a quick shake to clear the ringing and the daze from his head, the panda rolled over into a low crouch, peering up into the gloom and bringing his sword to bear. What he saw almost made him stagger backwards again, as the falcon had flung both wings behind him and was quite literally diving down at him with no apparent intention of stopping—his hooked beak poised to slash with deadly accuracy downwards at his neck.

 

He let out a startled oath and swung the sword to meet him…but at the last second, Chao banked upwards, passing right over Shifu's head to sail into the darkness behind him—and as he did so, the avian twisted about sinuously to strike out with one fist, landing a punch with stunning force right between the panda's shoulder blades.

 

Thrown off-balance yet again, he started to topple off the side of the statue before he could stop himself, but this time he managed to invert the Sword of Heroes in time, plunging it into the side of the wolf-statue's blade and catching hold of the hilt to prevent another fall to the cavern floor below. He even succeeded in re-directing his momentum into a giant swing around the hilt, whirling himself through several revolutions before somersaulting up and landing lightly on its pommel. There he stood poised and ready for the next attack with both fists raised to block incoming blows.

 

What he didn't expect was for Chao to forego the use of his weapons to simply pirouette in mid-air and fling first one wing, then the other, out at him so that he had to dance back out of the way along the sword edge. He knew from experience sparring with Crane that he did _not_ want to be struck by those wings, which would be powerful enough to crush his ribs or break his neck if they hit their target. And it was because he was focused on avoiding those blows that he was caught unprepared when Chao suddenly balled his fist and hauled back, punching him right in the gut.

 

He felt the breath _whoosh_ out of him, and doubled over in pain—in fact the blow was strong enough to send him flying backwards off the Sword of Heroes and back onto the statue's weapon instead. But this turned out to be a blessing in disguise, as Chao's inertia kept him moving forward after Shifu—which he took advantage of by planting his feet solidly on the stone and latching onto one of the falcon's taloned feet by the ankle, yanking and hurling him with all his might past his side and back out across the cavern again.

 

Of course Chao simply caught himself with his wings, but the time this afforded the panda let him not only recover but grab onto the Sword of Heroes and yank it back out of the stone. In fact, as the mage swung back toward him again, brandishing his bracer and Emeici, Shifu even had time to flick the tiny latch which held his blade together, wrenching it apart into the smaller, more agile, and dual-wielded shortsword and dagger in which Hou Kuan and Hou Sudu had specialized.

 

Seeing this, Heian Chao smirked coldly and dived again, this time landing lightly on the statue beside him. "You would use my old friends' weapons against me? I regret to inform you, I sparred with them on many an occasion. And they may have surpassed me in size and strength, but not in cunning or swiftness. I defeated them regularly—and I know just how to face you as well…"

 

Rising from a mocking bow, the falcon lunged forward along the wolf-statue's sword, and while Shifu had time to bring both of his weapons up to block him, the power in Chao's drive was astonishing! Although he braced himself against it, his adversary succeeded in shoving him back several feet until he was bent back in a sharp curve that made his spine protest, and it was all he could manage to keep the gleaming blades of his bracer and the arrowhead point of his piercer from stabbing and slashing down at his unprotected face and chest.

 

Gathering up every ounce of will within him, all his courage, all his righteous rage, and all his stubborn refusal to accept defeat, Shifu fought back—pushing and shoving, tensing and locking his arms in place to hold Chao back from his body, slamming his sword and dagger again and again to meet the wizard's weapons with loud clangs of metal, catching the hilt of his knife against the Emeici's tip, the flat of his shortsword against the bracer's angled claws.

 

Back and forth they strove atop the statue, their strength seeming to be evenly matched. Chao's beak clamped shut, its razor's edge hovering above him with cruel intent, while his eyes flared with those tempestuous inner flames; Shifu met them with his own icy stare, refusing to be cowed, while he drove the falcon back several paces and angled his arms back and forth, blocking again and again each time those agile blades came close to kissing his throat.

 

He felt the stone begin to crumble and sift dirt beneath his feet as he was pushed right to the edge of the drop-off, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before Chao sent him tumbling downwards yet again. He also knew that if he was to survive, let alone win this fight, he needed to get to a more secure position—or at least, one where there was more room to maneuver without constantly being in danger of toppling in freefall. So—when Chao suddenly drew one wing back to smack him across the face (with the Emeici, a technique which would have severely slashed his muzzle and cheek open if the arrowhead had hit its mark), he allowed it to land even as he deliberately stepped back and twisted to the side.

 

The move made him fall backwards, even as it also bled almost all the force out of the blow so that the black feathers only brushed in a glancing trail across his ear. As he fell, however, he acted on instinct—red pandas did not have very long or sharp claws, but they did possess them. He had always made certain his predatory students (Tai Lung and Tigress) never used their claws in combat, but there was nothing against using them to save one's life, and with the cheating moves Chao was using, he really had no choice. Plus the dagger and shortsword would not support his weight as easily as the broadsword had, should he choose to dig them into the stone in the same way…

 

So, as he plunged off the side of the statue, he dug his claws into the rock to slow his descent, then hauled his body up and folded himself double—so his feet could strike the ledge with violent force. Suddenly he was propelled backward, away from the drop-off where Chao could have easily swooped down and knocked him sailing, flying across the Vault toward yet another statue in the line, this being the one of Golden Takin. A quick backflip and inverted barrel roll aided by the points of his weapons striking down, and he abruptly stood atop the antelope master's broad, sloping head, both blades brought up at right angles to deflect another attack. There he waited with a fierce, vicious grin.

 

He didn't have to wait long, of course; Chao was pursuing him even as he vaulted across the cavern, so that in only a minute or two the avian had alighted on the statue beside him again. "Still you persist in this?" he cried, breathing hard. "Why? You know you cannot win."

 

"I know no such thing," Shifu retorted. _And I don't have to win, if I can delay you long enough…_ "Perhaps I'm not the has-been you think I am? And that's why you resort to trickery and insults to win…"

 

Chao didn't bother to reply, instead only letting out a vile screech and leaping at him again. Possessed of indefatigable stamina and endurance—whether due to his dark _chi_ fueling him, his phenomenal willpower, or some reason unknown—he drove Shifu back across Takin's head, from one side to the other, and the panda was hard-pressed to resist him. Yet he still met each strike and slash, as well as slipped in a few thrusts and lunges of his own that came quite close to impaling his enemy.

 

More savagely the falcon struck at him, not only with his weapons but with his feathered fists, and these seemed designed to strike his pressure points, exactly as an Eagle Claw master would. Shifu danced aside, but he could already feel himself becoming winded and tired; _I'm getting too old for this_ , he admitted privately, with regret and annoyance. He knew if he kept up this pace much longer, something would slip, would have to give. They were both masters, but despite Chao being much older, it was Shifu's reflexes and body that were weakening.

 

Just when he had succeeded in making use of the Emeici's pivot mounting to twirl it aside in a complex maneuver, thus bringing his dagger point up toward Chao's throat in a vicious stab that actually drew blood in a long, vivid line of scarlet, it happened. But it was not what he expected. While he was thus overextended, leaning forward on one foot to deliver that blow, the mage brought his other hand down, feathers pressed together in a very familiar gesture—the same sort of strike Tai Lung had always excelled at.

 

It was not a nerve strike, but it was one of the Lian Quan set…and it hit its mark, landing on the point just beneath his elbow. Suddenly his entire arm went numb, and with an aggrieved cry the dagger fell from his temporarily limp hand to clatter on the stone.

 

Even as he tried to leap back out of the way and recover, Chao struck again, doing the same to his other arm so that the shortsword, too, lay on the rock beside them. And then, while he futilely massaged at his muscles to restore feeling and motion to his joints, Chao spread his wings and flapped them vigorously. The resultant wind blew fiercely across the statue, and Shifu could only watch helplessly as both his weapons skittered across the rock and disappeared over the side, tumbling soundlessly toward the cavern floor far below.

 

Chao sneered at him, chuckling coldly; he lowered the bracer, but kept the Emeici pointed menacingly at him as he began to slowly circle his 'helpless' prey. "Did Oogway not tell you all he should—as usual? Did it slip your feeble mind, Shifu? Or did you honestly believe your brute force and blunt attacks could ever hope to defeat the finesse and grace of an Eagle Claw master?"

 

Rubbing briskly at his limbs—but not too forcefully, as that would restore feeling at the expense of stabbing, prickly pain he couldn't afford at the moment—the master of the Jade Palace glared at him, then chuckled too, mockingly. "None of the above. I have other ways of fighting, you know. And other means…ones even your vaunted abilities can't compete with." And so saying, as he felt his arms slowly relax and his circulation start flowing normally again, he swiftly reached to his belt and plucked out Oogway's staff, which by some miracle (or the very tight knot he'd tied around it) was still at his side.

 

As soon as he brought it up before him like a talisman, Chao's eyes widened. He was almost certain he saw genuine fear in them. "No! Oogway could not have—I _know_ Tai Lung broke it, I made him do it myself!"

 

"Time heals all wounds, Xun Chao," Shifu replied grandiloquently, but with a certain trace of malice. "Even the past can be fixed, if you know what you're doing." He brandished the stick menacingly, his confidence in his master combining with the look on Chao's face to inspire him—and restore the last of the feeling to his hands. He remembered what the turtle had shown him…

 

" _Don't_ call me that!" the falcon snarled. "That man is _dead_ , and good riddance to him!" And he leaped forward recklessly to strike again.

 

Shifu brought the stick up in an eye blink—and the Emei piercer stabbed into the wood, the tip emerging just short of his face. It was only stuck momentarily, of course, since Chao tried to pull it out immediately, but the panda was faster still since he had always been a master of staff fighting. Twisting the peach wood sideways, he wrenched the falcon off his feet, slamming him mightily into a nearby stalactite—once, twice, three times, and while he didn't hear any bones breaking, the cries his adversary gave were welcome indeed. When he was certain Chao was suitably dazed, he then whirled in the other direction—and thanks to the rotating ring to which the Emeici was attached, the mage inverted completely and was flung across the statue's head, leaving behind the piercer still stuck in the wood.

 

As Chao scrambled up and brought his claw bracer around again, Shifu jerked the metal rod out of the staff and discarded it into open space. He twirled the staff about once more and smiled. "Care to try again? Maybe this time the rest of you will go to the grave where you belong, too."

 

The falcon let out an inarticulate cry of rage and flew at him (literally), but Shifu was ready for him this time. Wielding the staff just as he had seen Oogway do in memory, he brought the gnarled knob around and slammed it into Chao's throat as the bird was about to land atop him. The results were immediate and immensely satisfying—instantly the staff glowed brightly with that same golden light, and the mage's scream of defiance became one of pure agony and anguish as he writhed and twisted about as if impaled upon a blade. In fact the darkness which trailed from him seemed to shrivel and tatter into thin, wispy tendrils, as if it were plant tissue being denied water and life, and Chao gasped wildly as if he were deprived of oxygen. _Well. This certainly changes things, doesn't it?_

 

By main force, Chao broke away from him, tumbling and rolling ignominiously across the stone until he landed on all fours, heaving and gasping as if about to forcibly jettison the contents of his stomach. Shifu stood looking down at him in both contempt and the vaguest drop of pity, even as he kept both hands clenched tightly on the stick, ready to strike out again should his seemingly weakened foe find a well of strength and try to take him by surprise again.

 

And indeed, even as he still shuddered and trembled violently, the wizard glowered up at him in hatred and determination. If Chao had not fallen so far from his heroic roots, if he had not become anathema to everything Shifu stood for and believed in—and if he hadn't personally caused such heartache and suffering to him and those he loved—the panda would almost have to admire him: his willpower truly was astonishing.

 

"Never," he gasped. "You can use all the tricks you want…appeal to your pathetic, peace-loving master…bring every weapon you can think of to bear against me. But you…will not defeat me. I will not _let_ you. And you will regret the moment you believed you could, that you decided to try."

 

Shifu was about to retort a reply when Chao abruptly burst into motion—apparently realizing how pointless it would be to continue using dark _chi_ against him when he had Oogway's staff to cut through it, he was resorting to purely physical attacks again. And even though the panda brought the stick around to jab him in the stomach, strike a glancing blow against his temple, try to undercut his legs—and each of these strikes resulted in another burst of shimmering light, another scream from Chao—the falcon just kept coming.

 

Somehow shrugging aside the incredible pain he must be in, the _chi_ master slashed at him again and again with his bracer while his free wing jabbed out repeatedly in one pressure strike after another. Shifu twisted to avoid another stab at his abdomen, this one directed to the side beneath his ribcage and surely intended to strike his diaphragm and knock the wind out of him. He also evaded the punch to his shoulder, although Chao did succeed in scoring a crushing pinch on his collarbone that nearly brought him to his knees before he jabbed the falcon in the heart and sent him staggering back, jolting and twitching from the surge of holy _chi_.

 

Again the wizard took to the air, diving down at him with one pounding strike after another. But Shifu refused to be daunted: not only did he spring, leap, and flip away from each of the pressure point _qinna_ Chao used against him, but as he felt his own _chi_ surge stronger and more powerfully within him…and the accompanying rush of energy in the staff he held…the panda acted on instinct to draw upon his own personal element. From the walls, the ceiling, and even the floor he began to draw boulders, broken stalagmites, whole flat expanses of stone that came away with crumbling dust and audible crunches—and then each was hurled, flung, or otherwise brought careening toward Chao with crackling blue auras of _chi_.

 

Of course he dodged the majority of them, and the ones he did not were split, shattered, or even dissolved into dust—not by Crane deflection chops or any other manner of kung fu move as Shifu had done facing Tai Lung, but by rushing rivers of black _chi_ which, when they caught the stone up in their torrents, seemed to literally disintegrate them, eroding in seconds what would normally have taken eons of aging.

 

And where that didn't happen, the falcon was either extremely quick and adroit in flying clear of them, or he pulled the same trick the possessed Vachir had in Chorh-Gom, dissipating in black mist only to reform several yards away, transporting himself continually around the vault only to hurtle back at Shifu in clouds of ebony death. But the panda, in turn, used the staff to push off, leaping and inverting and bouncing from the statue's head, to his horns, to the cavern ceiling and back again, and always had it ready when Chao came near so as to stab at him with another explosive burst of burning _chi_.

 

Landing with his chest heaving, back aching, and wounded side stinging with increasing pain, Shifu watched warily as the Eagle Claw master landed on the far side of the statue. Chao appeared winded and staggered, but it could all be an act—and even if it wasn't, his enemy could recover strength with inordinate speed thanks to his large wealth of absorbed _chi_. He could neither trust nor assume anything. All bets were off for this fight, even with the limitations and, for lack of a better term, power upgrades Oogway had supplied to Chao and himself respectively. Which meant he needed to end this fight quickly—perhaps find a way to catch the falcon off-guard, literally spear him with the staff. _That_ would certainly have spectacular results, he imagined…

 

"I am stronger than you think," he snapped at last, stalking slowly and inexorably across Master Takin's head. "And if it is not clear by now, I'll be _damned_ if I let you escape and get away with this any longer. I refuse to give up…and I am not the only one who will fight you, Chao. If you have any ounce of sense or sanity left in you, you will end this, now."

 

He paused—and then he heard a shout from the floor of the Vault a hundred feet below, a very familiar voice indeed. And he smiled coldly. "Speak of Cao Cao, and he will appear." Keeping one eye trained on the falcon, he half-turned and looked down, toward the entrance to the cavern…

                                                                       

* * *

 

Even though she knew her mind should be on Heian Chao and the battle ahead—which even after the many invasions the Furious Five had halted, combats they'd entered, and armies they'd defeated might well be the most pivotal of her life—somehow as they descended the secret stairs and headed down the mysterious passage tunneling beneath the Jade Mountain, Tigress could not stop her mind from racing.

 

It wasn't just the confluence of events and discoveries that had led to this sudden quest into the bowels of the earth, or the way her life had been careening from one shock to another ever since journeying to Chorh-Gom (and for much longer, truth be told). It was that everything had changed so completely in her life, in fundamental ways she would never have believed possible just three months ago—and almost all of them had something to do with Tai Lung.

 

Glancing aside at the snow leopard in question, who of course had no difficulty whatsoever in navigating the practically lightless catacombs and whose eyes glowed that blazing gold she had only seen on one other occasion—when they had fought at the Thread of Hope—the leader of the Four didn't know whether to be afraid or admiring, concerned or reassured by the sheer determination and ferocious courage he was displaying. Of course knowing this side of him, the incredible kung fu warrior who had beaten her so badly and nearly destroyed the Valley twice, could be redirected into something noble and good—or at least, something defensive and protective rather than destructive—pleased her greatly.

 

But she had to fear, at least a little, what would happen if the ex-convict's legendary temper were to rage out of control again. Would he be able to tell friend from foe, or simply rip through anyone and anything that came between him and Chao, his prey?

 

She could still see, in her mind's eye, what she had seen when she had returned from Wu Dan, how he had looked upon the gallows. Seeing him in that position, so helpless and battered by the terrible treatment the magistrate's guards had given him, on the verge of total despair, ready to succumb to his fate, had practically torn her heart in two—she had sworn she would not lose him, once she had finally admitted how she felt and declared her love for him, yet because of her decision to help Po save his father (and gain revenge on the Wu Sisters) she might very well have failed to be there when Tai Lung truly needed her. And that could have taken him from her forever…

 

At that point, despite how powerfully she had restrained her own temper and spoken up on her lover's behalf with as much dignity, calm, and reason as she could muster, she would have gladly shaken Fu Xiao within an inch of his life and ripped Xiulan's throat out without even blinking. Luckily her understanding that the cow was not in her right mind or even fully in control of herself had stayed the striped feline's paw…and thus kept Yi from being a total orphan.

 

At the same time, though, she also remembered just as vividly how the snow leopard had looked, just before Shifu had used Oogway's staff to free everyone of the dark _chi_ possession—there was no way she could forget the volcanic fury, wild desperation, and especially the mindless insanity that had begun to blossom in those golden eyes she had come to love. He hadn't been the man she fell for, the man who had changed himself so utterly because he wanted to win her respect and affections, the man who had proven he hadn't forgotten his lessons and was still, at heart, a virtuous and heroic warrior.

 

He had been the force of animal savagery, the uncaged beast who had haunted her nightmares—the one who had nearly killed her at the Thread of Hope, and then stood over her with such smugness and condescension as he employed his nerve strike to completely incapacitate and humiliate her. It was an image of him she thought she'd never see again, which she had finally managed to put from her mind…and seeing it again had been even more frightening and worrisome than she could have imagined.

 

She understood why it had happened, of course—even aside from Chao's influence almost consuming them all, there had been the simple fact of being condemned for something he didn't do, about to be executed, torn between his refusal to be a monster again and his desperation to escape such a cruel denouement, with the _chi_ wizard always there to swoop in and corrupt him into his service. She didn't blame him for wanting to escape that at all.

 

And it wasn't that she believed he would have hurt her or anyone he cared about…at least, she hoped not. If she needed any proof of that (as well as of the fact that he wasn't guilty), the way he had broken down on her shoulder over Zhuang's death would have proved it to her—a fact that only made her wish she had done far more lasting damage to Xiu, and long to go back and hurt her all over again, this time inflicting bodily injury that would truly make her suffer for what she had done. She didn't even need to have cared about Zhuang herself to want that…

 

No, what chilled her heart and made her fear for the outcome of this climactic struggle they were all about to enter was the very fact Tai Lung still possessed this darker side at all. On some level, where she had refused to bring it out in the light of day and consider it, Tigress had begun to fall into the opposite trap as her previous mindset. Instead of being utterly convinced beyond the capacity of anyone to persuade her otherwise that the snow leopard was a vile, rotten, sadistic killer who needed to be locked away or slain forthwith, the striped feline had begun to believe, once he had proven himself to her, that Tai Lung could now do no wrong.

 

He had befriended Po of all people, he had learned to love, he had grown beyond his selfish, arrogant nature, and he had consistently been choosing the right path—even when it wasn't the easiest, or even what she would have chosen. And he had been able to handle the Golden Spear! Surely this all meant that not only was Tai Lung trustworthy, he had purged the darkness from himself and was now a truly good and honorable soul.

 

What she had seen at the trial told her something else, however, something she should have remembered from Oogway's lessons. Life was all about balance. The struggle to achieve it, and then maintain it, was the entire point of existence. Learning control, finding your center, and becoming enlightened was something which took an entire lifetime, and in fact consumed every incarnation both beyond and before it. And above all, everything revolved around Yin and Yang. Tai Lung had discovered within himself the keys to dealing with his rage and jealousy, his resentment and pride—in short, the means by which he could give his Yin supremacy.

 

But that didn't mean his darker side had simply vanished. It would always be within him, an inner demon he would continually have to beat down, resist, and otherwise conquer if he wished to be a good person or simply have a normal life. And the fact he would never be a calm, passive Zen master would always be a strike against him.

 

She believed in him now. She had seen what no one else had seen, that he had a caring heart and had simply been isolated, lonely, spoiled by his upbringing into a cocky, superior braggart and trained to believe no one would ever love or be proud of him without some form of physical, objective achievement to point to. And she could tell that beneath the rugged, toughened exterior his abuse—both that of others and of his own self-recriminations—had created, Tai Lung was at heart an insecure, uncertain orphan like herself who just needed someone to care for him.

 

But she was afraid that if they weren't careful, if he couldn't control himself or Heian Chao interfered, at best their future struggle would be made much more complicated. At worst…they might be fighting the snow leopard as well as the mage…and while she would do so if necessary, Tigress feared she would not give it her all as she would have once, that she would hold back as Shifu had twenty years ago. If she did, it could cost her or one of her comrades their lives…and she would have failed to save Tai Lung, too. How she would prevent this, she didn't know, but it was one oath she could not afford to break…

 

Tearing her thoughts away from self-pity and worry, Tigress forced herself to look up and regard her companions—gauging their mindsets, their own insecurities and fears and uncertainties. In the faint moonlight filtering down from the Jade Palace, as well as that which reflected—or, oddly, seemed to emanate—from the crystals and gems embedded in the tunnel walls, her feline night vision let her see more than they likely were aware of or expected.

 

Monkey seemed the most determined and relentless, his expression more fierce and serious than she had ever seen it, and rightly so considering the very good reason he had to want Chao destroyed, one way or another. A tiny part of her was still afraid he could be susceptible to the _chi_ wizard's influence, and that releasing him, while the right thing to do as far as both friendship and strength in numbers was concerned, might have been the terrible mistake Crane, Viper, and Mei Ling had believed it to be. But the rest of her was just as grateful he was here…and prayed that if all went well, he would finally get a chance to prove himself still loyal to the Furious Four.

 

Crane himself, on the other hand, looked exceedingly nervous and fretful; whether this was because he didn't believe his mostly defensive and evasive kung fu would serve any purpose in combating Chao's martial arts (let alone his more mystical abilities), or if he was simply distressed over Mei Ling's welfare and whether he would live to see her again, wasn't clear. In either case, he clutched the Ring Blades as if they were his lifeline—to sanity, to confidence, to a sense of importance in the scheme of things.

 

Viper, by contrast, seemed more centered, self-reliant, and (no pun intended) grounded; having perfected the somewhat awkward manner of slithering that being wrapped around a polearm required, the serpent had her head held high, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the shadows ahead, her coils wriggling in odd, undulating patterns around what seemed empty air—though once in a while Tigress caught a brief shimmer when something unseen cast back the dim light of the glittering minerals.

 

And as for Po… The striped feline glanced aside at him, unable to keep the very severe frown from creasing her brow. It was not anything about his countenance or posture that indicated a problem; in point of fact, the Dragon Warrior strode along even more confidently than some of the others, and while she might wish he made less noise with his clinking, rattling armor—something a novice like him couldn't help, and she doubted even she could have proceeded silently either when so clad—in all other ways Po was very much an exemplary warrior.

 

It amazed her how far he had come and so fast, but it seemed that once Shifu discovered the (admittedly laughable) way to break through his incompetence, he had proven to be a natural at kung fu. Whether his long years of dreaming and fantasizing about this, or his memorization of the Furious Five's greatest battles (and the lessons they'd taught) had anything to do with this, she didn't know. She was just glad he had learned enough to give the Wu Sisters the ignominious defeat they'd deserved, and to likely make him a linchpin in the struggle ahead.

 

What worried her was two things: the change in his demeanor, and the way he had been acting in the basement cell before they'd all trooped off to the Hall of Warriors. The former, a continuation of the same gung ho, unwavering resolve that had swept over him upon learning his father had been kidnapped, was only to be expected. After all that had happened, what both Chao and the Wu Sisters had done to threaten him, his family, his friends, and the entire Valley, it was understandable that Po would wish to see the mage gone, would in fact be bound and determined to see to his extermination himself if that was what it took to make sure it stuck this time. But that didn't make the change any less distressing, even without the possibility it could give Chao some hold over the panda.

 

As for how quiet, reserved, and outright depressed Po had seemed ever since returning from Wu Dan…she had an uncomfortable feeling why that might be. Xiu had claimed, before their combat, that she and her sisters knew the truth of Po's parentage. While this was the same claim they'd made about Tai Lung (which had yet to be proven to have any substance), and the only ones to hear it had been the panda and snow leopard, Tigress had heard Xiu—and the ring of truth in her words.

 

The expressions and tones of Jia and Chun had similarly been highly convincing, and had almost swayed Po to give in to their enemies. Of course, in the end, he _had_ fought the assassins…but afterwards, when she and Viper had made their way back to the Valley to aid Tai Lung, they had left him alone with the Sisters, save for Ping. And for that matter, the goose himself had seemed quite out-of-sorts when he arrived at the Jade Palace with his son.

 

Who knew what might have been revealed, what words might have been exchanged between them? Even if, due to either her immature sulk or the strong likelihood that her mind had snapped, Xiu had chosen to say no more on the matter, Chun and Jia surely would have been more than willing to tell whatever they knew. Po would have had no reason not to ask, to satisfy his lifelong curiosity and finally uncover the truth about his past.

 

And to judge by the way he'd been acting in the Sisters' cell, and the sense of melancholy and vague desperation which had settled over him, whatever they had told him must not have been welcome news. She didn't know if the story was true or not (it'd be worse, she suspected, if it was), but either way it had clearly upset Po greatly. What that meant for his future participation in the battle, she didn't know. She could only watch him as closely as she could and hope he didn't do anything to get himself killed…or freeze up at the worst possible moment…

 

Yet when the six of them finally drew near the chamber at the end of the passage, only to hear the familiar sounds of combat coming from within, and then stepped into the room with weapons brandished or kung fu stances already adopted, it was Tigress who actually froze up for several eternal-seeming…and perhaps deadly…minutes as she stared at what was revealed.

 

Not the incredible nature of the vaulted chamber and its awe-inspiring, legendary statuary, although that was indeed impressive, nor the overall size of the place and the enchanting, ethereal beauty of it all, but the battle which was taking place, high atop the stone head of a massive, horned antelope she thought might be Master Golden Takin. There, where the only thing keeping the combatants from toppling off into open space was the neighboring stalactites, with black emptiness all around and carved stonework serving as both backdrop and frame, two figures were locked in a mortal struggle that was at once profound and so wildly rapid-fire it could barely be discerned.

 

One—whom she could only assume to be Heian Chao—seemed cloaked all in black with the long tatters of fabric turning at some point into trailing mist (or perhaps it was all made of mist?) and literally flew in vicious, tightly controlled circles in the still air of the vault. Again and again, the falcon, for as such she could now identify him, wheeled and flung himself about, striking down with what appeared to be a claw bracer while his other wing sent wave after wave of inky darkness streaking at his opponent. Yet he was also doing his level best to avoid the enormous boulders and slabs of rock which were continually being flung at him in crackling clouds of blue lightning—hurled by the same whirlwind of bouncing, spinning, flipping, somersaulting fury that was Master Shifu.

 

With the aid of Oogway's staff, which burned with a constant, shimmering golden light as it had in the village square, the red panda avoided the dark _chi_ with dexterity, alacrity, and such ease he made it seem as effortless as breathing. Rarely had she gotten the chance to see her master and father in action like this—she was not ashamed to admit it absolutely stunned her, and from the gasps, exclamations, and cries from alongside her, it was safe to say the others found it just as exciting and incomparable.

 

Po, in particular, was cheering, whistling, and applauding enthusiastically, and when she dared to glance at him, the panda almost seemed like his old self—eyes as wide as saucers, jaw hanging in awestruck delight, his entire face lit with joy and every bit of his black-and-white body drawn taut as he became more and more wound up by his hero. "Oh _wow_! Didja see that one? Awww man, this has gotta be th' coolest thing, like, _ever_! Whoa—I didn't know _any_ one could move that fast…did _you_ know he could do that? Oh Tai, now I know where you got it all from, that's a master who can really mow down th' bad guys…"

 

Wrenching her gaze away from this amusing display (and Tai Lung behind him, who seemed visibly torn between denying Shifu could ever outmatch him in kung fu and proudly proclaiming that was indeed _his_ father, who had taught him everything he knew), Tigress looked back up to the statue again. Having heard Po's cries, the master of the Jade Palace had come to a halt, rather winded and clearly injured to judge by how he held his side but otherwise looking rather vindicated and extremely pleased with himself.

 

As Chao landed on the other side of the statue and staggered about a bit as well, clutching at his shoulder where one boulder had struck a crushing blow, Shifu leaned briefly on Oogway's stick and offered a jaunty salute. "Welcome, my students! So glad you could join us, I was hoping you'd make it in time. Care to join me? I'd hate to have brought you all down here for nothing…it's only fair you each get a chance to make him pay…" He gestured magnanimously.

 

But Tigress had seen what was behind him, which he had not. "Master— _look out_!"

 

Shifu twisted faster than she had thought possible, abruptly angling the staff back to stab hard into Chao's stomach. But in a move that seemed to shock the red panda, and which made her heart seize up even more fearfully, the falcon somehow drew upon a well of strength to bear the holy power of the talisman being used against him—for even as his feathered hand began to give off a roiling, sizzling cloud of greasy black smoke, the wizard continued to clutch the gnarled knob of wood, preventing it from battering him anywhere else. And then he shoved the staff forcefully back, his unnatural strength making Shifu stumble back and almost fall to one knee.

 

That was all the opening Chao needed. Before their eyes, he dissolved into mist and then reformed elsewhere, as Vachir had done at Chorh-Gom—becoming solid again with his arms tightly wrapped around Shifu, crushing him against his chest while he twisted the panda's shoulders and upper back out of alignment. He cried out in agony, and Tigress echoed him—she had suffered a spinal crank before, and it had not been a pleasant experience to say the least.

 

But as if that weren't bad enough, the falcon also brought up one wing to plunge it down at Shifu's chest: the one wearing the claw bracer. He drove its blades into her father's body—in the heart? Just shy of it? She couldn't tell—and suddenly it was as if she had been the one impaled.

 

" ** _NO!_** " She couldn't lose him, not now, not when she was finally starting to repair their relationship, when she finally had a chance to have a true father, and be a true daughter to him. Her cry was echoed by everyone else, though Tai Lung and Po were the loudest of all. Yet it did nothing to change what they had witnessed—nor could it stop Chao when, with an elegant sneer of contempt and pleasure, the falcon pulled his weapon free and cavalierly, negligently, pushed Shifu forward as if he were utterly worthless, a sack of garbage to be disposed of without further thought.

 

Before her stunned eyes, her Baba was falling…toppling off the side of the great statue in a rapid, perilous descent, Oogway's staff plummeting with him as he dropped ten, twenty, fifty feet toward the solid rock of the cavern floor, still clutching in agony at his surely fatal wound…

 

Suddenly time, which had seemed to slow and halt, now resumed passing with stunning speed. Without even having to think of it, Tigress was leaping forward on all fours, racing across the Vault faster than she had ever moved in her life, faster than when she'd leaped from the Jade Palace roof to intercept Tai Lung before he reached the Valley, faster than when she had fought him or any other opponent in her career as a kung fu warrior.

 

Even so, the snow leopard—who had tossed the Golden Spear aside in his haste—matched her stride for stride so that both of them were there, at the foot of the statue, when Shifu fell within reach…so that both of them could catch him in their waiting arms, and then gingerly, tenderly lower him to the ground.

 

Fighting back tears, the striped feline stared down aghast at her father, at the crimson blood welling up around the tiny hand which pressed against his four jagged, extremely serious wounds, at the eyes which were now rolled back and fluttering wildly, the huge ears which now hung drooping, limp like the rest of his body. He seemed so light, to weigh practically nothing in her arms—or was that just a trick of perception thanks to Tai Lung also supporting him? Whatever the reason, he seemed frighteningly frail, and far older than his age as she gazed down into his pallid face, and the sight and feel of this had her choking up—in grief, but also in fury.

 

Shifu had never raised her properly; even the lessons he had given her at Bao Gu had been geared toward helping her control her strength, so as not to harm others or turn them against her, not because he enjoyed them as a form of play—at least, not at first. When he had come back for her the day she failed to be adopted, her heart had leapt with joy, and she had all but flown into his arms in gratitude and delight. She had thought he loved her, then…it had certainly felt that way as they walked off together into a glorious sunset, toward the Valley of Peace and what she was sure would be the beginning of a wonderful new life.

 

But all of that had changed when they reached the Jade Palace. Oogway had welcomed her with open arms, of course, but while she'd had a certain odd affection for the turtle, he had always seemed far too strange for her to ever get close to—not to mention his languid, lazy way of speaking and moving had run completely counter to her own desire to be resolute, alert, direct, and forceful at all times…something which was in her own nature but which she was also positive would please Shifu.

 

Yet the red panda had become withdrawn almost as soon as they settled into life in the Valley, his fledgling kindness and caring withering away into a constant, hovering cloud of unbearable sadness. She hadn't known what to think…although eventually, Oogway explained to her why her father had such difficulty opening his heart to trust and love again, part of her could not dismiss her original belief: that Shifu had only adopted her out of pity, because it was the moral and generous thing to do, not because he actually loved her. That he had only taken her in to keep her from accidentally killing someone and because he saw promise in her skills.

 

Granted, it had been her decision to go to him, to beg to be trained in the arts of kung fu—because she'd futilely believed that only by taking part in something around which he'd structured his entire life could she ever win his admiration and love. But even then, the panda had been so bitter, so cold and distant, interested only in correcting her stances and getting the best training sessions out of her, not in recognizing and praising her talents—and while the knowledge that Shifu had become this way because of Tai Lung had planted the seeds of hatred for the snow leopard, his behavior had also made her hate him…and herself.

 

She must have failed as a daughter somehow; despite all her training, she must not have been good enough. No matter how she pushed herself, no matter how many amazing feats she performed in battle, that was what she always believed.

 

Now, years after the fact, after she had finally spilled all the vitriol and poison which had built up in her heart thanks to her bitterness and self-loathing—something which, ironically enough, might never have happened if Chao hadn't pushed her into it—Tigress finally had a glimmer of hope. She had finally begun to believe that all those years of abuse and neglect, abandonment and loneliness, could come to an end…that she could either prove herself wrong about Shifu, about herself, or find a way to repair the damage wrought between them.

 

The two of them had begun tentatively reaching out to each other, and while it was hardly a sure thing nor had they progressed very far, it was a start…it was an indication of a good future, where he could finally tell her he loved her and was proud of her, as he had Tai Lung, and she could start believing she was worthy of such things. And now…now, when this critical step had been taken in their relationship, he was going to _die_ on her?

_No you don't, Shifu. I don't care how badly Chao beat you senseless, you aren't getting out of this **that** easily!_

 

A long-fingered hand on her forearm made her look up through a bleary haze of tears which she quickly dashed away. Monkey knelt beside her, a look of stricken sympathy and determination on his narrow face. "Tigress…lemme see to him, okay? Mantis taught me a lot, before…and so did Crane, back at Chorh-Gom. I'll…do the best I can, 'til we get him back up to the palace. Maybe is just me, but…I think you got somethin' else to do…" He glanced meaningfully over his shoulder.

 

Tigress followed his gaze—from Tai Lung, who, despite crouching beside her and cradling Shifu's body as if it were a fragile piece of china he was afraid to even breathe on, seemed a raging furnace ready to explode if his molten eyes were any indication, to the rest of her comrades who all looked similarly shaken, upset, and furious, and finally in the direction all of them were staring, up toward the heights of the cavern. As soon as she laid eyes on their foe, her rage took supremacy again.

 

Savagely wiping away her tears, she glanced down once more to see Shifu had apparently passed out. She gently disengaged Tai Lung's paws, handed their master and father as reverently and carefully as she could to Monkey. She watched him retreat into the dark hollow formed by the cleft in one of Master Takin's cloven hooves, where he and the panda would be safe and protected while he worked to save Shifu's life, using the healer's pouch Monkey had thoughtfully brought with him. And then she rose to her feet, balled both fists, and glared heatedly upwards.

 

High overhead, a hundred feet above the cavern floor, Heian Chao had not moved a muscle since the last time she had laid eyes on him, save to cross over from where he had stabbed Shifu to instead perch vulture-like atop one of the statue's horns. Even at this distance she could see the beady scarlet eyes blazing down at her, and the gloating, almost lecherous grin upon his beak—he had, it seemed, been observing them the entire time, relishing and even glorying in what he had done to the panda…surely hoping not only to watch them closely and be ready when they attacked, but to see Shifu die. Hatred flared within her anew.

 

As he saw her looking, the falcon made a sort of half-bow, which turned into a controlled topple as he flung himself down toward the kung fu masters, wings unfurling to catch him with almost preternatural grace, as if he were only a peach blossom descending on the currents of the wind. As he drew nearer to them, however, Tigress couldn't help but notice with a fiendish glee that the feathers of one wing—the one he had used to grip Oogway's staff—were curled inwards and looked darker than the rest, as if they had been burned and blackened. Chao did not allow a single sign of agony or distress to appear on his proud features, but she knew it had to be extraordinarily painful. _Good. This is only the beginning of the pain you'll feel…_

 

"Ah, and here you are all at last...and you even bring my old classmates' weapons against me. How quaint…" The falcon's words, urbane and dry, were at the same time hissed with a menacing edge, the contrast inherent in the tone as unnatural as it was disturbing. "I was starting to think I'd not receive the honor of your company…that I would send your master to his next incarnation without any witnesses, so that he would be truly alone in his last moments. A pity, really…but now I have the chance to meet such illustrious kung fu warriors after all."

 

He bowed almost theatrically in mid-air, a feat which dipped him straight downwards only for him to recover his altitude in a simple somersault, hovering and occasionally flapping his wings as he glided with chilling serenity. When he spoke again, however, it was knowingly, mockingly. "Of course, I have already met and known you so well prior to our encounter in the flesh, so to speak. Although most of you were blind to my presence…"

 

His eyes rested on his fellow avian first. "Master Crane…how you pride yourself on your intellect, and yet you could never discern my hand on events…you didn't even know of Vachir and his true intentions until it was almost too late. And you knew the Wu Sisters…yet you couldn't dispose of them either. I suppose you think yourself clever at finding that peasant's dying message…luck and happenstance, coincidence and sheer accident, not anything of your doing. If you had only left Li Dai with the Sisters, you could have been truly great…now you are but a poor man's guardian."

 

Even as Crane bristled visibly, Chao shifted his gaze to the serpent beside him. "Mistress Viper…you were, how do they say it in the vernacular these days—a 'tough nut to crack'?" He shook his head, though whether at the crudity of the expression or the fact of Viper's resistance to him wasn't clear. "You surprised me. Unlike your friend there, who once upon a time would have sooner chosen to eat you than fight at your side, instead of logic it is emotions that you place all your trust and store in. You believe you can feel your way through any situation, determine the right course by 'listening to your heart'…"

 

These last words fairly dripped with disdain. "…and that there is nothing which cannot be solved by love, kindness, and compassion. But you couldn't break through the iron walls of Vachir's heart…you could not appeal to the better natures of the villagers…and in the end, you still succumbed to me on Wu Dan, even if only for a moment." His voice dropped to a sibilant hiss, ironically more serpentine than Viper's ever sounded. "How did it feel, ribbon-dancer? Do you know my true power now…do you know which emotion is truly the greatest and most victorious of them all…?"

 

Gentleness and compassion certainly weren't showing now on Viper's face, but Chao ignored that baleful, cold gaze as well—instead turning his raptor's profile toward the golden simian who still worked feverishly to staunch the bleeding and clean and stitch the wounds upon their master. "Monkey…oh Monkey…" The primate flinched instinctively, his hand jerking so violently he had to swiftly pull it back to keep from accidentally stabbing the panda. Slowly he turned his head, and while the look he shot in Chao's direction was rather reminiscent of those he'd worn while under the falcon's control, this time it only made Tigress grin fiercely to herself. Once again, however, the wizard acted as if he hadn't even seen the venomous hatred in those eyes.

 

"Ah, there you are. What a delight it was to reside in your head for so long, my dear boy. Do you have any idea what a succulent feast your jealousy and anger were for me? I'm afraid your _chi_ would never have been enough to sustain me, not the way Tai Lung's will—not without leaving you a withered husk, sadly. But it was certainly pleasant enough for as long as it lasted. So much of what I was able to do, here in the Valley as well as at Chorh-Gom, would not have been possible without you…inciting suspicion and distrust, spreading my plague of hatred everywhere you went, tearing apart these bonds of loyalty and friendship you seem to treasure so highly. I must thank you for the opportunities you gave me…we really must collaborate again sometime." His eyes flashed a lurid crimson. "In fact I _insist_ upon it…"

 

The langur's eyes were now brimming over with unshed tears, his face a mask of guilt, shame, and regret. But even as the shadows swirled and stirred more restlessly around Heian Chao, hissing and gasping in a horrific parody of life as if eager to consume him, Monkey squeezed his eyes shut, balled his fists, and then set his jaw as he glared defiantly up at his persecutor. "No. That ain't gonna happen again. I swore it, and nothin' you do can make me break it. You made me kill my best friend…no power you got's gonna make me forget that. I'd sooner die than let you in again. I'll take my life to keep that from happenin'." He chuckled softly, maliciously. "Or better yet, take yours."

 

Open shock appeared on the mage's face, to the point that his beak actually dropped open and a deeply troubled look creased his brow and narrowed his eyes. For several more moments he circled about at a safe distance, watching all of them but especially Monkey with extreme care; then at last he settled, with an odd appropriateness, upon the upraised talon of the Mongolian falcon statue. Folding his wings with a fastidious air, he began to preen himself as a tiny smile managed to make its way onto his beak again. "We shall see…"

 

With that, he turned to fix his eyes on Tigress herself. She stiffened, preparing for his onslaught, daring him to do his worst. But when it came, she was almost completely unprepared—not for the words he chose or the manner of his taunting, but the incredible will which lay behind and beneath his seemingly conversational tone. Suddenly she knew why Crane and Viper had remained so silent and still rather than attempt to either deny Chao's twisted insinuations or defiantly reject him, and why Monkey'd had to struggle so willfully before working up the gumption to retort back.

 

The _chi_ master was exceptionally strong—enough so that even she, who had always been notorious for her stubbornness, felt herself sway under the impact of his mind bearing down on her, pressing ever inward, a cold and absolutely heartless darkness that seemed to settle oppressively on her shoulders and drag her downwards…a truly monstrous and vile wickedness that seemed intent on burrowing in, crushing her spirit and hope and will to live, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell in which he could take up residence…

 

"Master Tigress…at long last, we meet face to face." He paused, and something disgusting and suggestive crossed his features, accompanied by a decidedly noticeable leer as he slowly ran his eyes up and down her body. She didn't know whether to be infuriated, contemptuous, or outright mocking of this predictable but odious response. "I can see why Tai Lung fancies you…but there are much more preferable ways to power, and true greatness rises above such limited desires. You have caused much vexation to me, woman…if you had simply stayed your untrusting, hard-hearted self, you would have been quite useful to me in keeping Tai Lung on the proper path. If he believed he would never be accepted, it would have been so much easier to turn him to me. Instead you had to fall for him…"

 

He paused again, then regarded her candidly. "But that can all change now. You still have a chance to join me, as Tai Lung's dark consort. I know the fire that burns within you, as fiercely as it does him. I know how you have been tempted by power, how you yearned to be the Dragon Warrior, to be recognized. You owe Shifu nothing after how he treated you. Simply say the word, and I can raise you up to be empress, or goddess…"

 

She didn't know which angered her more—that he would make such an offer at all, or that he'd believe she'd be tempted by it. Yes, at one time she had fervently believed she would be the one Oogway would choose to grant the scroll. Yes, she had been terribly disappointed, both jealous and resentful of Po for receiving it in her place—which meant she understood exactly how Tai Lung had felt—and convinced she had failed herself and her master.

 

But she no longer felt so now, she knew she had not been the right one and the panda utterly deserved the honor. Even if this were not the case, she would _never_ embrace power for its own sake, or serve anyone like Chao and commit the sort of foul deeds he wished. And as for Tai Lung…understanding how he felt had not made her hate Shifu more, but reach out to the snow leopard instead.

 

Looking up at him, back straight and rigid, fists clenched at her sides, and very conscious of the weight of the Ninja Weapons on her back, she snarled through gritted teeth. "I suppose you think I should be flattered by this offer. What's next? Are you going to force me to marry you, too, just to get Tai Lung's goat?"

 

Heian Chao actually blinked in confusion. "What? Why on earth would I do a thing like that?"

 

Somehow, even though she would have found such an offer even more repugnant, and would have fought tooth and claw against it, hearing that the thought had never even crossed his mind was insulting and angered her all the more. _What, I'm not good enough to fight over?_ Growling, she slashed her paw through the air to cut off whatever else the falcon might have said and instead crossed her arms tightly, snorting. "Never mind. Here's your answer: drop dead."

 

To her surprise, and extreme displeasure, although Heian Chao did look decidedly nettled at her refusal, he actually laughed at her response—albeit with a mocking, dismissive air. "I already tried that, my dear, I'm afraid it didn't quite agree with me. We shall soon know if you fare any better…"

 

Even as she was still fuming, the falcon turned and gazed at Tai Lung—and despite not being the one that awful look was directed at, she couldn't help but shiver. The sheer amount of hunger, possessiveness, and longing in his dark, burning eyes was both appalling and frightening. "Tai Lung…I knew you would come to me in time. You couldn't stay away…your need for more, for greatness and power and perfection, would not let you…"

 

Looking up abruptly from where he had, up until now, had his eyes fixed motionlessly on Shifu's unmoving, deathly pale form on the stone floor…a ravaged, haunted expression of desperation and infinite sorrow on his blocky face which she had never seen there before…Tai Lung let out the ugliest and most vicious of snarls imaginable. "I didn't come here to join you, you poncy bastard, I came here to _kill_ you. Is that plain enough for you?"

 

"Indeed." Blithely ignoring the insults, Chao merely shook his head in mild disapproval. "Why the venom, Tai Lung? Surely you knew this would happen…I warned you what the consequences would be should you refuse me. Your father has now paid the price. Whom shall I choose next? Who else will fall beneath my will before you admit defeat and accept me?"

 

He gestured idly with his wing feathers, and suddenly Tigress found she could not breathe—something dark, misty, and barely visible had wrapped around her neck to constrict her, and no matter how she flailed and grasped at it, she could not lay hand on anything tangible. She could only struggle, gasping and choking, eyes bulging, staggering forward as she felt her knees weaken and begin to buckle.

 

"Will it be your 'beloved'? Perhaps if I remove her, you will have nothing left to tie you to the light…then you will see your true destiny, and come to me…"

 

Several things happened at once: from beside her, she heard a ragged gasp, an even more subsonic and ferocious growl which soon burst from the snow leopard's throat as a terrifying roar, and the scrabbling of claws on the cavern floor; her vision began to grow dark and she did fall to her knees, even as she cursed Chao's name and her own weakness in succumbing to him; and then something wooden suddenly pressed into her throat. There was a flare of golden light, a scream from overhead, and the crushing pressure evaporated in an instant.

 

Gasping, frantic to get oxygen again and trembling head to foot with fear, adrenaline rush, and hatred, Tigress massaged her neck gingerly, wonderingly, for several endless minutes before she could look up. When she did, she was both startled and fiercely pleased by what she beheld—at her side, glaring in mingled triumph and wrath at the statue looming above them, Tai Lung stood holding Oogway's staff, its knobby head still hovering near her windpipe and blazing with golden _chi_ , while Heian Chao was literally writhing in agony as he clutched at the statue's wing feathers to keep from plummeting to the ground.

 

Slowly, the mage recovered from the effects of his broken spell and his old master's holy touch. But before he could even fully rise, let alone try to speak, the spotted feline was already brandishing the staff and denouncing him. With every word he spoke, he became more and more maddened, and Tigress could see, with widened, worried eyes, that his fists were already beginning to glow and crackle with burning tongues of flame.

 

"If you _ever_ try anything like that again, or even lay a single feather on Tigress…you will be introduced to this stick up close and personal. And if I'm feeling really sadistic, it'll be going right where the sun doesn't shine!" He trembled violently. "I won't let you hurt her, or anyone else I care about, ever again…if you do, I will hurt you worse than you can possibly imagine. You will _rue_ the day you ever heard my name…you will _wish_ you could die, just to escape the agony of what I'll do to you…if I have to die to do it, I won't rest 'til you've been gutted, turned inside out, and stuck on a stick for the whole bloody empire to see! You got that?"

 

By the time he had finished his tirade, chest heaving and soaked with sweat, fists clenching and unclenching spasmodically, and a constant snarl quivering in his throat, everyone was staring at him in mingled admiration and wariness, even Heian Chao—although he looked more as if he wished to feast upon the snow leopard and gorge himself on the darkness of his _chi_. And well they should, for a nimbus of fire had formed to completely surround the feline, blazing ever brighter and hotter with every passing minute until no one could stand close to him and even his clothing was beginning to smoke and smolder.

 

Still, Chao only blinked with exaggerated care, gave him a wintry smile, and replied as urbanely as ever, even drawling to show his utter disdain for the snow leopard. "Charming. And just how will you accomplish this, when I have already proven that your will is far too weak to suppress me?"

 

Tai Lung went still, then sneered. "Only once…twenty years ago. Never again. Or didn’t the way I stood up to you in my cell, or how I didn't give in even when I was about to be hanged, tell you anything? Does a high-and-mighty, oh-so-perfect, impossibly intelligent master of _chi_ understand what I'm telling you at last? _I've had it with you!_ No more! Shut your beak, stay out of my mind, get out of my life, or so help me you _will_ know the meaning of true suffering…"

 

All was silent save the crackling of the fire and Tai Lung's growl—and Tigress could only watch this, torn between pride and enduring love at hearing herself so powerfully defended and the falcon so utterly defied, and despair as she saw her worst fear possibly coming true, Tai Lung losing control again, falling into a mindless rage. She was about to step forward and intervene when finally a small voice spoke up beside the snow leopard.

 

"Tai? Buddy? Maybe ya better…calm down?" Looking at Po, Tigress could see he looked rather nervous, flicking his eyes from the fiery aura to the now-stunned and wary Chao, but the panda never faltered in continuing to talk gently and soothingly to his friend. "Remember what we learned at Wu Dan…what Master Shifu taught ya…push your anger down into your stomach, into your _chi_ …ya gotta be calm, focused…don't let him get t' ya, that's what he wants, if ya rage you're not gonna be able t' fight him smart, the way ya gotta t' win…like ya taught me…yeah, that's it…"

 

The expression on Tai Lung's face, as he finally tore his eyes away from boring holes into the falcon and gazed at the Dragon Warrior, was a riot of conflicting emotions—resentment, distrust, uncertainty, worry, and of course unconscionable anger. But after a few moments he seemed to visibly relent…he nodded slowly, closing his eyes, and forced his fists to relax at his sides. Although the amount of hatred and righteous rage he felt could never be mitigated completely—Tigress herself, now that she could breathe again, was rather feeling the same way—she could see when the training exercise began to take effect.

 

Gradually, with a tremulous shiver and a huge exhalation, the snow leopard relaxed and backed down…while all the fury and intensity couldn't possibly leave his features, they did at least smooth out slowly into some semblance of control. More importantly, the outward sign of his wrath, the crackling fire, slowly receded and shrank until at last, with a final flare of light and heat, it died and winked out into nothing.

 

"Thank you, Po," Tai Lung said softly, with what sounded like genuine gratitude, and then opened his eyes to fix those golden orbs on the panda. He reached over and laid a paw on his friend's armored shoulder, squeezing it briefly. "You're right, I needed that. We have to be clever and careful if we're going to beat him. And I won't let him get away thanks to my temper…"

 

Po's smile was like the sun coming up—but then, suddenly, it died as he looked past Tai Lung's shoulder. Turning to see what had him so upset, Tigress immediately leaped back to her feet and instantly had the _dao_ sabers of Master Dog out of their scabbards and crossed in guard position. For not only had Chao recovered from whatever Oogway's staff had done to him, but he now stood at his full height atop the statue and was glaring with outright loathing—as well as disbelief and consternation—down at the Dragon Warrior.

 

" _You_ …" The hiss escaping his beak was so black she could almost swear it emerged as more of the shadowy _chi_ , and it certainly had the intended effect: everyone, but especially Po, took several long steps backwards, brought their weapons to bear, and braced themselves for whatever was to come. "You were supposed to be disposed of. You were to be dead, or else drawn out of this conflict…why are you not at Wu Dan?"

 

Apparently, that incredible _chi_ maneuver Po had told them he'd used to cleanse the Sacred Pool was one of such purity it had also blocked out Chao's corrupt powers, raised a barrier against them—or else simply weakened him to the point he couldn't even tell who had done the deed, let alone that Po was still in the Valley and the palace. And so he hadn’t recognized the panda until he had made his presence known by helping fight off the mage's influence over Tai Lung. Though him being clad in Flying Rhino's armor probably didn't help. Tigress smirked wryly.

 

Drawing herself up, she sneered elegantly at Chao. "Oh, he was. For a while. But he decided helping those he loves and has sworn to defend was more important than cowering before you." She chuckled darkly. "So Viper and I aided him in rescuing his father…though really, he did most of it himself. We're very proud of him. And you're very screwed."

 

Vermilion swelled and churned within those lifeless orbs, and even without flapping his wings, the falcon began to slowly rise upwards, borne on a maelstrom of surging black mist like a growing thunderhead. "I think not," he whispered harshly. "And he did, did he? Then it seems my trust was misplaced…and the Wu Sisters have failed me yet again."

 

She sighed theatrically. "Disappointing, isn't it? I guess it's just hard to find good help these days…"

 

"So it would seem." Chao paused…and then, inexplicably, he smiled. "But perhaps…they have one…last….chance…to redeem themselves."

 

Even before she caught the tone in his voice and spied the way his gaze rose toward the tunnel leading into the Vault, Tigress had already heard the faintest of sounds behind her, as of a boot scraping on stone. Swiftly she whirled about, bringing the Ninja Weapons to bear, and was gratified to see Viper, Tai Lung, Crane, and even Po do the same. There, behind them, the Wu Sisters stood framed in the entranceway between pillars.

 

How long they'd been standing listening, she had no idea, but she could see Xiu's eyes glittering even from here—blazing with hate at the insulting words which had been applied to her, but also with triumph. Somehow, she seemed not only no worse for wear after her humiliating, painful defeat at Wu Dan, but to be actually healed and in perfect condition.

 

Chun and Jia flanked her, of course, the former wielding her ever-present fire wheels and the latter bearing a pair of gleaming sai…the middle sister looked as implacable, callous, and driven as ever, but she thought she saw a flicker of something else in the last snow leopardess's violet eyes—fear? Regret? Despair?

 

For several moments this wordless tableau remained frozen, and then Po suddenly stepped forward, raising his free paw in a fist as he glared belligerently at Xiu. " _No!_ It can't be! How did you—I had ya locked up tighter'n a moneylender's coffer…unless…" The panda slapped his forehead, looking aghast. "Aw, nuts! Your _chi_ …"

 

Xiu grinned smugly at him, even took an artful bow before lifting her dagger significantly; though her grip seemed loose and casual, Tigress could tell in an instant that this was a blind, that the snow leopardess was in fact quite prepared to use the weapon with every inch of her assassin's skill. Worse, she could see in those blue, deranged eyes that her grip on her sanity was even looser, if that were possible. Manic glee, supreme arrogance, and utter loathing warred within her eyes—whether she had ever been in full possession of her faculties was debatable, but certainly now she seemed to have been pushed completely off the deep end. Tigress sidled closer to Po.

 

"That's right, panda. I do have to thank you for that. You've made this so much easier for us now…" She glanced around at everyone and everything, surely marking positions, weapons, conditions, even emotional states; Tigress knew Xiu had to have seen the injured Shifu. "So, the only question remaining is how and when you die, Dragon Warrior. You're not going to get away with what you've done…you may have tricked me once, but never again. Your fighting skills have improved, I'll grant you that. But mine are still better…and I have something you don't."

 

"Really? I thought it was th' other way around." Po took up a Dragon stance and growled at her. "'Cause I know I got a conscience when you don't…and you sure don't got a clue, lady."

 

"Yes." The Wu Sister smiled coldly. "You may think you're a 'badass' warrior now, panda. But I actually have the will to go through with my attacks…unlike you, I have no compunctions whatsoever about killing. And that's just what I'll do—to you, and anyone else who gets in my way…" And then, from a standing start, she suddenly lunged, her paw becoming a blurring streak of motion, and her dagger flew with unerring precision straight toward Po's throat—the only portion of him that wasn't protected.

 

Tigress cried out, leaping to intervene. But Tai Lung got there first, tackling the panda and sending him crashing to the ground in a loud clatter of rattling armor, taking him out of the path of the dagger and thereby saving his life…and as she skidded to a halt and clutched her chest in relief, the striped feline stared—and blinked.

 

For before her eyes, something else flew through the air from the side, what seemed to be a spinning silvery-white disc that struck the knife and knocked it across the cavern to clatter harmlessly on the floor. Only when it stopped spinning did she recognize it for what it was…a throwing star. Hurriedly she jerked her head about, peering in the direction from which the ninja weapon had come… _Yes!_

 

Emerging from behind one of the pillars, closer to the entrance and in the shadows out of sight of the Sisters, Mei Ling slowly appeared. She thought the mountain cat looked a little woozy and battered, but her gait was steady and her expression as granite as the statues rising above them. "I told you," she said softly, her voice as deadly and cruel as that of any of the assassins, "that I'd stop you. And I'm _still_ not going to let you do anything to the Dragon Warrior. You want to kill someone…do it after fighting fairly, if you even know how. And if you're going to fight, fight me."

 

Xiu was staring at her half-sister, the madness and wildness driven out of her eyes at least for the moment by the sheer shock of what had happened and who had appeared to stand in her way. She recovered quickly, however, giving an unladylike snarl as she began to stalk slowly toward Mei, her paws twitching violently—presumably with her desire to exact vengeance. "You've interfered for the last time, Mei Mei." She uttered the cute nickname with a false sweetness so nasty it was almost bitter. Again she eyed Po, contemptuous and derisive.

 

"And so have you, panda. I don't care what she and Tai Lung have taught you, I don't care how many _chi_ moves you pull out of your mystical bag of tricks, like the way you cleansed the Sacred Pool. You're still going down…" She laughed throatily, disjointedly. "And you're not the only one…Chun." The green-eyed sister nodded obediently. "Master Shifu isn't looking well at all. Put him out of his misery, why don't you?" And she stepped toward Mei Ling, brandishing her sole remaining fire wheel…

 

Everything seemed to happen at once then. Chun began to glide toward the red panda's fallen body, over which Monkey still crouched protectively while he still worked to halt the bleeding and stitch the wounds closed as rapidly as he dared. But both Viper and Po, the latter having extricated himself from Tai Lung's protective grasp, moved in her way, equally determined and defiant in defense of their master.

 

At the same time, a strangled, enraged shriek broke from Heian Chao's throat, a sound so unearthly, ear-piercing, and horrifying it made Tigress's blood run cold. Looking up rapidly, she saw the falcon had risen even farther atop his cloud of shadowy _chi_ , his wings furled wide as if in imitation of the statue he perched upon…and upon seeing his face as he skewered Po with his explosively roiling eyes of molten wickedness, the striped feline could only offer a prayer of thanks to the gods that one of his powers was not the ability to kill with a look.

 

"It was _you_? _You_ were the one to purify the pool…to break my hold on the Valley…end my glorious reign…" Chao seemed to swell, growing larger, darker, literally adding size, muscle mass, and strength to his frame, bursting out a gushing river of black _chi_ that poured in an endless waterfall down the sides of the statue toward the cavern floor…tarnishing the crystal formations into sickly pale, barely flickering light sources, cracking and dissolving the stone of the statue itself so that feathers and then small sections of the wings began to crumble and smash to the floor.

 

"No! _No!_ How _dare_ you…No more. Centuries from now they will tremble and suffer nightmares at even a whisper of your fate! I shall put an end to you…since the Wu Sisters cannot, I shall do it myself! You have cost me Tai Lung, cost me everything… _Cào nǐ zǔzōng shíbā dài!_ "

 

Po's face seemed to cave in, and Viper gasped at the awful vulgarity of this curse. But there was no time to deal with the ramifications of this, as in the same moment he uttered the last Mandarin syllable, Heian Chao stooped and dove, plummeting straight toward the Dragon Warrior with murder in his eyes, beak aimed for a jugular-slashing strike, his claw bracer lifted high for another fatal slash. Po, distracted by this, didn't see Wu Chun leaping past him, over Viper's head, toward Shifu and Monkey. And Xiu, with a twisted smirk and a bloodthirsty yowl, leaped toward Mei Ling.

 

Thankfully, everyone else reacted with the same split-second timing—from where he'd stood beside Monkey, softly muttering instructions and watching the medical proceedings with a critical eye, Crane suddenly swept upward on his enormous, gray-and-white wings, intercepting Heian Chao. Bringing Twin Weasels' Ring Blades up in his talons to both block the falcon's bracer attack and slash upward powerfully into his face, he sent the mage reeling back through the air with a howl and then flew grimly in pursuit.

 

Tai Lung, also having risen, didn't even bother with weaponry at this point, discarding Oogway's staff to leap at Xiu with claws unsheathed so as to come between her and Mei Ling. At the same time, unexpectedly, Wu Jia also cut off her own sister so as to land in front of the mountain cat—who swiftly withdrew her own pair of sai to clash against those of the Wu Sister with a shimmering metallic _clang_.

 

And as for Tigress herself? Even as she took note of all of this out of the corner of her eye, she was leaping forward after Chun—and at the same time Viper suddenly rose up and blocked the assassin's path with the horizontal, invisible haft of the trident, sending her flying backwards with a _whoosh_ of air from her diaphragm, Tigress landed in front of Po, wheeled about to keep him at her back, and brought her _dao_ sabers down in an X-strike formation aimed right at Chun's head.

 

At the last second, the Wu Sister caught the weapons with her fire wheels, the flawless metal of the blades quivering only inches above her narrow face…and then she smiled with an obscure pleasure. Breaking free with a _kiai_ and a backflip that landed her safely clear of Viper, Monkey, and Po, the middle sister executed a proper honor bow, doffed her cloak, and raised her fire wheels high again. "Shall we dance? I promise I'm better at it than Jia and the Dragon Warrior put together. And our fight before didn't last nearly long enough. Don't you think?"

 

The leader of the Four paused, half-crouched after landing almost on all fours, but then she too smiled as she rose upright and returned the bow. "I couldn't agree more." And so saying, despite her fears and worries for her comrades, Tigress tuned out the sounds of the other battles going on around her, hearing only the sound of her blood pounding in her ears, then swung the Ninja Weapons and leaped forward again…as silent and deadly as the forests of the night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very little to say here, since most of this chapter is self-explanatory or just fighting and confrontation. What I will say is, while the lines of statues in the Vault of Heroes is what _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ showed, the rest of the description is my own invention—picture it as a combination of Old Ba Sing Se in _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ and the city of Dwarrowdelf in Tolkien's Moria. As for those statues, aside from the ones you already know or which I made up, some of them may seem very familiar to you from Luna's ["Memoirs of a Master"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4576439/1/Memoirs_of_a_Master). For those who aren't recognizing the cameo/shout-outs: Borte, Dong Li, and Jian Ren all make appearances, and as for that big tiger? That's Red Claw, who in my universe was actually a good guy. :) Lastly, the curse Chao said to Po...heh, as some of my readers may know, it actually translates to "f#% your ancestors to the eighteenth generation". Chao gets very foul-mouthed when he's angry—and no puns on 'foul', please. :P


	41. Battles and Betrayals

 

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, even as he was leaping forward to block Xiu from ever reaching or laying a finger on Mei Ling, Tai Lung couldn't help but curse nastily to himself. How could they have been so foolish? How could _he_ have been such an idiot? He knew damned well that his nerve strikes could have healing properties, especially if the victim was kept paralyzed for a long enough period; add that to the phenomenal _chi_ Po possessed, and of course the Sisters would recover completely from their defeat at Wu Dan, and be itching for revenge.

 

He should have warned the mountain cat, taken greater precautions in guarding and imprisoning the snow leopardesses, but he'd been so whipped up into a frenzy of righteousness and determination to bring Chao down that he hadn't been thinking. Obviously the assassins had gotten the drop on Mei, and they could all soon pay the price. He couldn't even blame his fellow feline for having allowed them to escape, especially since she had come straight after them, helped him save Po's life, and was even now fighting off Jia. But it still made him furious. He couldn't afford any more such mistakes.

 

What made him even more upset, and worried, was the fact part of him was actually glad this had happened, since it gave him a chance to finally face the Wu Sisters again, especially Xiu. That he could prove he could defeat them as well as Tigress, Viper, and the Dragon Warrior had, and get revenge for what had happened at Yunxian…

 

But none of that mattered now. What mattered was that he finally brought down the blue-eyed bitch once and for all. And that he endeavored to do, without letting a little thing stop him like his being unarmed while facing an assassin with an arsenal of weapons. For even as Xiu followed through on the attack she'd intended for her half-sister, he instinctively raised both arms to block the incoming blow. Hissing between clenched teeth as he felt the blade of the fire wheel cut through both of his forearms, he waited until the weapon was arcing away on the far end of its crescent, then lunged forward and aimed a Dragon Fist right at her gut.

 

Of course she dodged back out of the way, but he simply used the momentum of the punch to duck down, twist sideways, and bring his other leg up in a roundhouse to connect with her chin. She avoided that too, only to bring her fire wheel back to slash at his unprotected foot—except he quickly bent and tucked his leg back against his stomach, so that she stumbled and almost fell when her weapon passed through empty air. Taking advantage of this, he swiftly rose back upright and brought his right arm around and down, finally landing a hard and extremely powerful blow of his elbow right between Xiu's shoulder blades.

 

Crying out in mingled pain and fury, the snow leopardess went down on one knee, but as he followed up on his attack with another aimed at the unprotected back of her head, she twisted sinuously to the side, rolling back to her feet and breaking from him so as to retreat to a safe distance. There she eyed him coldly, hatefully, fire wheel raised like a shield before her as she slowly began to back in a circle around him, watching his every move for some indication of what he'd do next. _Good. She's still sane enough to be wary of me…_

 

Flicking his eyes up to the vulpine statue nearest him, Tai Lung allowed a brief smile to appear on his muzzle before it was quickly wiped clear—the perfect role for him to play, considering if he knew Xiu as well as he thought he did, she would surely adopt the King strategy…always in charge, always superior, moving only when she had to but then following through unerringly on whatever attack she chose…

 

Ignoring the stinging pain in his forearms, and how the blood continued to trickle thickly down through his fur (though careful not to slip in any which dripped to the floor), the snow leopard remained parallel to his opponent, circling in the opposite direction while he deliberately dropped his right fist near his waist, as if keeping the way open for a kick from his left leg.

 

"I told you we'd meet again, Tai Tai," Xiu purred suddenly, a rather crazed and fang-baring grin on her own face. "And it looks like you really should have waited before taking on an epic battle again…just look at you. Barely two minutes into a fight and already you're wounded…"

 

"So?" he growled, as if infuriated by her—which, truth be told, he _was_ rather annoyed, but fronting a far more severe fury than he actually felt would go far toward misleading her. There were many layers to such a convoluted act, especially when both sides were playing the Fool card… "I've had worse, believe you me. And I don't care how well you've healed, you're still recovering from Wu Dan…where you lost to a student _I_ trained." He injected just the right note of smugness into his voice—after all, he _was_ extremely proud of Po.

 

He was gratified to get a vicious snarl from the snow leopardess, but despite being more unstable than ever, Xiu managed not to let her cage be completely rattled, not yet. "A student who beat _you_ , even before you taught him a thing. Hardly a way to cover yourself in glory, Tai Lung. I can still beat you—and I will." And with that, she abruptly swung out with her fire wheel again.

 

Tai Lung instantly followed through with the kick he'd telegraphed, knocking her paw away and twisting her body back at an angle so she had to lean back to keep from being sent sprawling. Without hesitation, he answered her next blow with a right hook—which he was quite careful to chamber, just to give her enough time to see it coming and conclude his overconfidence wasn't bothering to conceal what he was up to. He saw those blue eyes narrow speculatively, and kept his face a mask of concentration, as if he wasn't even aware of the "mistake" he'd made. If her own instability and cockiness held enough sway…

 

"Why did you interfere, anyway?" the eldest Wu Sister suddenly said, as if they were discussing the matter over tea rather than in the middle of combat. "Save Mei Ling like that? Was it because she saved your tail at Yunxian? Or are you in _love_ with her?" She smirked, then flicked her eyes to the side, where Chun and Tigress continued to exchange blows with an endless clash of metal. "My, you're quite the popular one, such a lusty rake. You'd better not let your beloved Tigress hear about it, or she'll be feeding you something you're rather attached to…"

 

But he only sneered at her and chuckled nastily. "Do I detect a note of jealousy, Xiu? I'm _so_ sorry, but this cat is taken. Better luck next time, precious!" And once again he dropped his paws, this time not so far along his body—to still leave room for his next kick, but imply he had realized he'd given himself away and was attempting to correct and be more subtle.

 

Even as the Wu Sister struck out at his foot to ward it away from her face, this time with the handgrip of her fire wheel instead of the blade, he spied the knowing and condescending look on her face as she reached the 'proper' conclusion and congratulated herself on figuring it out. _Got you. It's **so** much easier fighting someone who's too out of their mind to be as smart as they should be…_

 

Not that he had any inclination to let down his guard and give in himself to complacency—against Xiu, that would border on insane himself. He knew she could still figure out what he was up to, and even if she didn't, her madness made her even more dangerous and unpredictable…

 

Back and forth they sparred across the cavern, both to provide themselves enough room to maneuver amongst all the other combatants and as each succeeded in gaining the upper paw and driving each other along with tenacious and unrelenting force. Roundhouses followed Tiger Fists, scissors-kick flowed into an attempted nerve strike that was caught by the ring of the fire wheel, while Xiu in turn continued not only blocking him but grimly, cruelly, nastily slashing again and again at every bit of his exposed flesh she could reach.

 

Soon not only his arms but his ankles, calves, and shoulders were screaming at him in agony while lurid crimson blood welled up to soak his fur in its sticky, viscous sheathing, and he knew that any more wounds—let alone ones which succeeded in striking him in a major artery or vein—would be his undoing. He had so much stamina, constitution, and willpower that he could continue fighting long past when others would have succumbed to blood loss and passed out, but even he had his limits…and just because he could not feel or was ignoring the pain didn't mean his limbs wouldn't suddenly give out at any moment.

 

On the other paw, he managed to back Xiu into a pillar or the leg of one of the statues several times, with only her incredibly rapid cartwheels, handsprings, and tuck-and-rolls to allow her to escape him—and as he continued gradually decreasing the distance he lowered his paws until he no longer telegraphed his kicks at all, the Wu Sister continued to fall into an ever more predictable routine, confident as she was that she had discerned his pattern. Only a little more…

 

"So tell me something, Xiu," he said suddenly, just as conversationally as she'd been speaking, although he let an edge bleed into his voice, a trace of a growl to suggest he was losing control of his temper, that his anger might be making him sloppy and unfocused. He struck out with one kick after another, alternating roundhouses with foot-thrusts, spin-kicks with side-kicks, and of course she blocked, sidestepped, or otherwise evaded every one.

 

"And what would that be?" The Wu Sister somehow managed to sound both bored and amused at the same time, and definitely superior and mocking. "If you're trying to proposition me this late in the game, I'm afraid you waited too long. And while I wouldn't mind a nice threesome, even if it did include Tigress, she didn't seem too fond of the idea when I suggested it to her."

 

She smirked, then slashed at him with her fire wheel, a mirror of the move she'd made back in Yunxian which had struck his jaw so powerfully. He ducked it, but with incredible speed she twisted her arm about and inverted the weapon, bringing it down to slam with bruising force into his spine instead.

 

Snarling for real this time—not only was he becoming swiftly fed up with her, that had _hurt_!—Tai Lung fell back from her in his trademark low crouch, prepared to dodge another incoming strike and, seemingly, ready to rotate about and spill her on her backside with one leg. Gritting his teeth, he maintained his temper, however, and only stared up at her intently. "Don't flatter yourself. I just think it's high time you share with me what you promised. At Yunxian."

 

For a moment Xiu actually dared adopt an innocent, puzzled expression. But then she pursed her lips and _tsk_ ed softly, disparagingly. "Oh, please. And what makes you think I'd tell you now? Perhaps you suffered a bit too much head trauma fighting Vachir, so it slipped your mind—but need I remind you, that bit of information you're wanting so badly was predicated on your joining us. Unless you're planning to now?"

 

In spite of himself, in spite of his secret plan, and in spite of how important it was to maintain a level head as Po had stressed, Tai Lung couldn't hold back the infuriated, ugly, bestial growl. He _had_ to know! He'd managed to set it aside, sublimate it beneath the more pressing concerns of winning Tigress's heart and facing off against the evils which threatened the Valley, pretend it didn't matter to him and resist its lure once he had learned to consume his temper and his wild madness in the fires of his _chi_.

 

But the simple fact was, even having Shifu back in his life again, knowing he loved him and was proud of him, having friends and a mate…none of this could replace what he had lost. It had been forty years, and he still didn't know his family, or why they had abandoned him. The chance the Wu Sisters actually knew this was slender at best, but he had to latch onto it while he could—this would be the only moment he could possibly learn the truth, the only time he would have Xiu where he wanted her and nothing else would interfere.

 

And considering how badly Chao and Xiu both wanted him, what they were willing to do to claim him, and the twisted methods they had so far used against him, it would be like them to discover his family in truth and then withhold them. That would be worse than lying about it…

 

"Aww." The note of sympathy injected into her voice was so blatantly false it almost pushed him into a feral, blinding rage right then and there; as it was, his claws all sprang from their sheaths instinctively, and no matter how much he struggled he could _not_ make them retract. "Does it hurt, Tai Tai? I know…there's really nothing like family, is there? My father was worthless, as peace-loving and saintly as your old master Oogway, but my mother…"

 

Her blue eyes grew distant—for an odd moment, through the haze of his fury, he thought he saw a flicker of something strange in them. Not love, but what seemed more like…worship. Mingled with…fear? "Oh, she was _glorious_. She taught me everything I know, all I do and all I am is thanks to her, is done in her name and for her greatness. Yes, my life would have been quite empty and pointless without her…I must always do as she wishes, I must serve and obey, it is the only way…"

 

Tai Lung stared at her, jaw hanging, and only the fact that Xiu too had ceased fighting to contemplate the strength of her maternal blood kept him from falling prey to her while he stood crouched and frozen. He shuddered violently. In so many ways, in ways that terrified him but also awoke the tiniest drop of pity, she sounded like himself—striving so hard, so constantly, for every day of his life, to earn the approval and acceptance he coveted from his parent. What must Wu Qing have been like, to create a daughter such as this? What had Xiu done to herself, what had she sacrificed, to become this heartless and wicked?

 

Abruptly her eyes snapped back to him again, and he instantly fell back a pace and tensed the muscles—again, in his legs only—as he watched warily for her next move. "So I understand what it means, to want to have that, to know these things, to know where you belong and give honor to your ancestors. And you can still have that, Tai Lung…if you join me. If you join Chao."

 

The temptation to give in, to accept the deal, to learn what he needed and then exert his will at a later date to throw off the mage's shackles and escape, was stronger than it had ever been. But he knew what he had to do…and the hatred and disgust he felt was more than sufficient to help him resist. Rising up again, he clenched both fists, narrowed his eyes, and made his voice as cold as it had ever been. "No. No, I don't think so. I think this will turn out differently." And with that, without a single telegraphing sign, he leaped toward her.

 

Xiu knew it was coming long before it did, of course—but thanks to all his misleading, Fox-style attacks he'd been using, she had braced herself for another kick…and so was completely out of position for the Dragon Fist he sent slamming with crushing force into the side of her breastbone. He both heard and felt bone crack as one of her ribs gave way, and with a yowl of pain she doubled over. Leaping back before she could recover, he whirled about in another roundhouse, and this time she was so distracted by her agony, and her grip was so loose, that his foot easily caught her fire wheel and sent it flying off to the side to be lost in the darkness.

 

He lunged for her again, but somehow, by some well of determination or (more likely) bloodthirsty hatred, the Wu Sister managed to produce one of her daggers and bring it up between them, aimed up at just the right angle to slip underneath his own ribcage to the vital organs beneath. He didn't even hesitate—with a blur of motion he brought up his left paw to prevent her from landing the blow…and caught the weapon by the blade.

 

The snow leopardess gasped, in disbelief as well as thanks to her shortness of breath, but then she managed a mirthless chuckle. "Proving you're a big bad male who won't flinch at anything, hmm? Keep that up…and all you'll get is a lot of severed nerves and a useless paw…"

 

"Not yet," he growled harshly. "I'm stronger than you, and you know it. Now tell me."

 

Xiu struggled to break free, trying to wrench the weapon out of his grip, to back away from him, but he refused to allow it. In fact he brought his right paw up and grabbed hold of her throat, hoisting her off her feet and slamming her into the pillar behind her. He could see the fear mingled with loathing in her eyes, but he ignored it. He only began to squeeze.

 

"You…you wouldn't dare," she choked out. "If you kill me…you'll be back to your old ways. You'll fall into darkness again…Chao will have you…you'd never allow that…"

 

He wrapped his paw tighter around the knife blade until the metal bit deep into his palm and he could feel the blood trickling thickly down into his fur. "Are you _quite_ certain you want to risk that? I swore I'd get justice for Zhuang, and I will."

 

Widened blue eyes, as cold as ever but now showing the slightest glimmer of sanity within their frigid depths, met his. He could see his own reflection in them, a snarling, enraged, savage visage he had never thought he'd see again…but he forced it away. "What? And you call _me_ mad…since when were you that close to that fool? I didn't even know you swung that way—"

 

"Shut up! Now tell me."

 

"I can't very well do _both_ , you know—"

 

Fingers like iron bands clamped around her throat, squeezing harder and harder until her hand finally spasmed and released, letting him wrench the dagger free to drop and clatter on the floor. He kicked it casually out of sight among the crystals and squeezed her neck tighter still.

 

" ** _TELL ME!_** "

 

"I don't know!" Xiu screamed in his face. "I have absolutely no idea! I just told you what Chao told me to say, what he knew you wanted to hear! Your family's far away, or dead, who knows!" In spite of herself, she laughed, bitter and broken and disjointed. "Maybe Chao does, why don't you ask him?"

 

Clenching his paw, feeling the blood well up only to become trapped in his palm, he loosened his grip in spite of himself. He'd thought as much, been certain of it in fact…but to hear it said straight out that way…he'd hoped, dared to believe there was even the tiniest possibility it was true, that he was about to find out where he came from, why he'd been abandoned…if he'd been loved. To have it all dashed now… His chest heaved, and though he struggled to hold it back, his vision began to blur as stinging tears leaked out to trickle down his cheeks.

 

Somehow, despite being so close to having her trachea crushed and passing out from oxygen deprivation, Xiu acted faster and more violently than he could have expected. Her other paw came up to claw viciously across his face—he recoiled, roaring in pain. And then she lifted one knee and slammed it as hard as she could into his groin.

 

Gasping in anguish, tearing up for an entirely different reason now, Tai Lung lost his hold on her and stumbled back, cursing at allowing himself to be so caught unawares. He _knew_ she would fight dirty… But to his shock, instead of pulling out another weapon or attacking him immediately with fists and feet, the Wu Sister lunged to the side, ducking down toward the floor, apparently to scoop up something out of his line of vision.

 

And at the same time he realized what it was she was seeking, and a warning actually started to form before dying on his tongue, Xiu caught hold of the long, glossy haft of smooth, fire-hued wood which they'd approached without knowing it during their fight, the weapon he'd discarded earlier.

 

The assassin only had a brief instant for triumph to surge in her eyes before she was screaming, an agonized shriek higher and more piercing than he'd ever heard in his life. Steam and smoke seethed and boiled upward from her paws, while the entire length of the Golden Spear rippled, shimmered, and blazed an angry, violent red that lightened even as he watched in both horror and grim understanding—becoming orange, yellow, and finally intense white…

 

Xiu finally managed to pry her fingers off the mystical weapon, letting the spear fall to the floor again with a noisy clatter—but it was far too late. The smell of burned, cauterized flesh was unmistakable in the still, stagnant air, and as she held up both paws before a tear-streaked face that had become a mask of rage and hate, Tai Lung could tell with revulsion that they had been terribly seared and burned. Wisps of smoke and steam still trailed off them, and the edges of her palms that he could see ranged from broiled meat to a blackened crust.

 

"Well," he finally gasped, rapidly blinking away his tears as he managed a look of vindication. "So sorry to disappoint you, but it seems you're about as far from pure as it's possible to be…"

 

It couldn't have been hearing this pronouncement that did it—after all, she prided herself on her cruelty, immorality, and vicious nature, she enjoyed being evil and considered goodness to be pathetic and overrated. It must have been her inability to harm him with the spear, his tone of voice, or the debilitating injuries she'd just sustained—ones she now blamed fully on him. Whatever it was, no sooner had the last word left his lips than Xiu let out an insane, frantic yowl and, heedless of blood, scalded flesh, and pain, leaped at him with claws brandished and fangs bared, like a woman possessed.

 

Likewise ignoring the pain which still throbbed in his deeply cut arms and paw, the snow leopard drew upon his store of _chi_ to still the trembling and bolster himself with a renewed surge of strength, springing at his enemy with his own paws and feet lashing and flying out at breakneck speed…

                                                                       

* * *

 

 _Clash. Clash. Shiiiiing._ Again and again, the sound of tempered metal slamming together echoed in the silent vastness of the Vault of Heroes, and again and again Jia found herself twisting, gyrating, and wheeling about to either bring her sai to bear against her half-sister, or else to swiftly fend off the mountain cat's own surgical, slashing strikes. Despite the bladed weapon not being the first choice or even the first learned by either feline, both of them prided themselves on mastering and making use of whatever weaponry was available; as a result, both of them were still exceptionally skilled at what they did.

 

If matters were otherwise, if she weren't certain her life depended on either putting on a good showing before Chao and Xiu or holding off Mei before she killed her, Jia would actually be enjoying this combat much more as what it truly was—an artistic exhibition.

 

High and low, above the head and at the waist, lunging at the heart and throat or alternating angled blows at the side and stomach, they leaped and twirled and danced with ghosting, supple movements across the cavern. One moment they kept their sai separate, stabbing and sweeping with the weapons' slender, delicate blades—aiming at temple, trachea, beneath the arm, across the wrist, but always halted by the right block so that the hilts entangled.

 

The next moment each of the cats locked her sai together to form X's or V's, employing the shield thus formed to better stop the incoming blows or strike out with double the deadly sharpness—to spear the heart, bury in the abdomen, or close like scissors around the neck. But always the other combatant succeeded in dodging, evading, or blocking the attack. Once, Mei actually came within a hair's-breadth of slashing Jia's face, but the snow leopardess was artful and serpentine enough to slip her own sai up flat along her body, not only halting the blades within centimeters of her cheeks but knocking them back, then hitting hard at the junction of the sai. The two weapons separated and the mountain cat fell back, snarling in annoyance.

 

Once more Mei made to slash at her face, this time with only one sai, and Jia instantly took advantage of this to lash out with lightning speed. Tangling her blade's hilt in the kung fu master's, she wrenched her half-sister toward her and, at the same time, twisted her arm up and around in a complex, circular motion. Suddenly Mei was forced to spin around as she was drawn along by her weapon, and in a twinkling the beige feline was trapped in the curve of her arm, pressed back-to-chest with the Wu Sister—with Jia's arm wrapped tightly around her chest, pressing hard into Mei's throat.

 

She had just started to slide her arm downward, to trap Mei's arms at her sides, while bringing her other paw up to menace her sister's throat with her other blade, when out of nowhere—and proving how exceptionally limber and lithe she was—the mountain cat suddenly flung her right leg straight upwards all the way to a complete vertical, performing a flawless backwards kick that struck Jia in the shoulder and face, stunning her enough that Mei could easily slither free and escape.

 

But the assassin had a trick of her own up her sleeve, for even as the Li Dai graduate whirled about and began to dance clear of her, she recovered rapidly enough to dart out with a wide-sweeping scissors-kick that tripped Mei up, knocking her completely off her feet to spill ignominiously on her backside.

 

"Well," Jia said at last, forcing her voice to be harder and more brittle than it ever had been before but still far too sweet and perky for her liking—she'd only been trying to protect Mei from Xiu, the same as Tai Tai, and this was the thanks she got? "I see you're as skilled and clever as ever."

 

Mei looked up from the floor, panting and winded as she struggled to recover her breath—she must have hit hard enough to knock the wind out of her. As she half-sat up, propped on her elbows, she glared at Jia—a glare that cut her to the quick, resembling as it did the one she'd given all those years ago…after news of Wu Xuan's death had reached the mountain cat as well as who had supposedly done the deed…after they had encountered one another for the first time in years in the ruins of a Hun-sacked monastery. "And I see you're as cheating and dishonorable as ever."

 

Smothering a soft curse, the spotted cat couldn't hide the hurt in her voice and didn't try. "Cheating? Master Hu taught me that move himself…same as he did the one you used back. Perfectly legitimate in combat, and you know it. Dishonorable? I was just trying to save your life—unlike Xiu, I don't want to kill you, and you know that, too."

 

"I know no such thing." Surprisingly, Mei's voice was sullen, reduced to a mutter, not an infuriated shout at the top of her lungs. Her eyes, too, wouldn't meet Jia's, instead resting fixedly on the rough stone beside her, a nearby stalagmite, anything but her face. When she spoke again, she sounded desperate and lost. "I'm not sure if I know anything anymore. Everything is coming apart…nothing makes sense anymore."

 

Frowning, Jia watched the mountain cat warily as she began to slowly circle her on the floor, one sai always aimed true and steady at her prone form while the other was held at a high angle behind her head in a pose at once stylized and quite primed for deadly attack should the need arise. _What's she mean by that? Nothing strange is going on_ — _well, except Chao and his powers. Unless…_ "Is this about what I told you?" she asked cautiously, uncertainly, in a hushed whisper.

 

Mei Ling lidded her eyes flatly and snorted. "Of course it is. You really think you can dump an announcement like that on me, and I could just brush it aside, pretend it didn't change everything, completely undermine everything I believed?"

 

Chuckling hollowly, Jia regarded her sardonically. "That was kind of the idea, sis. I _wanted_ you to remember it, and to think about it long and hard."

 

Umber eyes met her violet ones. "I don't believe it, you know."

 

"Of course you do," the snow leopardess said easily, casually. "If you didn't, you wouldn't even be talking to me about it. You just aren't sure if you'll let yourself. You've been living with that vendetta of yours for so long now…it's been all that kept you going, it's what you had to believe in. You're not going to abandon it without good reason. Especially if that means you've been wrong all these years."

 

She paused, allowed the hardness to bleed out of her tone, replaced by gentle understanding. "It's okay, Mei Mei. I knew you'd doubt. You wouldn't be who you are if you didn't fact-check everything, get all the evidence before you made a decision. Ask me anything you want…while we keep fighting…Chao and Xiu are too busy, they won't notice a thing…"

 

For a long moment there was only silence, save the sounds of the other battles raging around them, while Mei regarded her thoughtfully, calculatingly. Then, imperceptibly, she nodded. "Defend yourself!" she cried loudly, for the benefit of everyone nearby—and in one rapid, quicksilver motion, the mountain cat arched her back, got her feet under her to spring off the floor, and flipped effortlessly upwards.

 

Landing light as a feather on the tips of her toes, Mei at once launched herself at Jia, her sai flickering and flashing like lurid bolts from the heavens…but under the cover of their metallic scraping and clashing, she began a fervent litany of questions that beat in a tattoo as rhythmic and forceful as fists or heels ever could.

 

"So: Xiu killed Father. With your dagger, I suppose, to frame you." Mei slashed at her chest, making her dance back.

 

"That's about the size of it," Jia replied bleakly, parrying the next attack and angling her half-sister's blade to the side so that it almost became buried in a pillar.

 

"Why did she do it? What she did have to gain out of blaming you?" The mountain cat sounded as if she already knew the answer to this question, but asked anyway because it had to be.

 

The assassin blocked a series of vicious and highly convincing strikes which tracked their way up her body from abdomen to throat. "What do you think, Mei Mei? She wanted me at her side, a pet on a leash she could use to jerk me short whenever she wanted." She spat the words out like poison.

 

"She wanted a set of three, my skills to complement hers and Chun's. And when I refused, she needed something to hold over my head…a way to make it so I had no choice but to accept…so I'd be all alone, everyone hating me, no protection from the Emperor or your mother, save Xiu herself."

 

Troubled, Mei went through the motions of defending herself, the clear worry and distress on her face distracting her sufficiently that if Jia were really trying, she could have impaled the mountain cat or slit her throat at several points. As it was, she did succeed in criss-crossing her sai to form a wedge around Mei's neck as she drove her back into another pillar.

 

Growling, the other feline choked out her next words, although even if she'd had an unobstructed airway Jia suspected they would have been just as rough and hissed. "So you didn't stab him in the back, literally…you didn't take advantage of our father's trust and love, and bury your dagger in his back as you were embracing him?"

 

" ** _No_** _!_ " The word came out with such ferocity and anguish, yet also as a whimpering sob, that it shocked even her. "Of _course_ not! I don't care what a bitch Xiu always was to him, and how cold Chun became…I _always_ loved him, and I always will. The same as I do you." The rounded, beige face became blurry through an abrupt film of tears. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt me, to think you hated me? Worse, to know you believed I could actually do such a thing? How _could_ you, Mei Mei? You know me!"

 

"Do I?" Mei snapped challengingly. "You still haven't given me any proof! Sure, Xiu could have killed Father. In fact I know she'd have loved to. But it's only your word you didn't do it. I need to know more." Nevertheless, her voice was trembling and unsteady, and a stricken look was in her usually kind eyes—Jia hoped it was because Mei was as upset at knowing she had lost all faith and trust in the youngest snow leopardess as Jia herself was.

 

Narrowing her eyes, the spotted feline considered, and her sister shoved her with incredible force, breaking free of her hold and spinning away across the cavern. Pursuing the mountain cat relentlessly, Jia caught up with her and struck their blades together with ever-increasing frequency and speed, forcing the other feline to backpedal repeatedly—yet always with the same perfect grace.

 

Then, without warning, Mei succeeded in sending the Wu Sister sprawling, and as she twisted about to cross her sai before her opponent's face, Jia suddenly felt the steel slide across her own palms, slipping with consummate skill like a serpent's tongue through her fur, the blades once more tangling in the hilts. And just like that, her sai were sent spinning across the floor, disappearing into the shadows and far out of reach.

_Damn it. She's still amazing_ , Jia reflected sadly. _Will I ever be as good as her?_

 

Rising back to her feet, she swiftly reached back over her shoulder and loosened from its straps the weapon she had taken from the Jade Palace armory before the trio had arrived in the Vault—a double-bladed _da huan dao_. Slowly at first, then with increasing vigor, she began to whirl, invert, and gyrate the weapon about with an ease that belied its significant weight, gradually backing Mei toward an alcove between two pillars.

 

With every whizz of the paired blades through the air, she spilled another detail about that fateful day—anything she could think of to stave her sister off and testify to the truth. "I was there the day Father died. And he did die in my arms. But I didn't stab him. I couldn't have."

 

Mei Ling stared at her, dumbfounded, even as she sheathed her sai and brought out her ubiquitous staff to block Jia's blows. "What do you mean? Why not?"

 

She flipped through the air to land solidly behind Mei, twisted back to peer at her urgently. "If I'd been holding him…if I'd then knifed him…the blade would have gone in at an angle. You know that. To do it straight on, I would've had to loosen my arms, slide them farther down. He would have felt that and been suspicious." Mei ducked and sidled away from her, holding her staff out before her as if to ward away evil.

 

As if accepting this as an invitation, Jia struck with first one blade, then the other, keeping Mei on the defensive, forcing her to continually step backwards, the length of wood angling and tipping back and forth to catch each strike and jab before it could touch her. "And the wound itself…it was deep. Too deep. Deeper than it would've been if I'd done it from close quarters…as if it had been thrown?"

 

As she whirled about to avoid a blow from the staff, as well as strike down from above with the scimitar blade, she saw the flicker of uncertainty and doubt begin to dawn on Mei's face, the realization that there might, after all, be truth in her story. She could almost hear the gears turning, see when her half-sister felt her way toward a conclusion: _How could I know things like that, about the angle of the blade or the depth of the wound, unless I was there…unless I saw how the murder happened? C'mon, Mei Mei, you're smart, you'll get it…_ She pressed her advantage.

 

"What about the footprints? I know you had to check out the scene of the crime, after you found out what happened…you're so analytical, I know you'd want to know just who did it and how…" She whirled the _da huan dao_ , intending to sweep Mei's legs out from under her, but the mountain cat adroitly sprang upwards, leaping several feet off the floor, and avoided it completely. "You know all three of us were there that day, not just me. You know the others were behind that boulder. The way Xiu was standing, how deep her prints were, the angle of her stance, where she was compared to Father…don't believe what she wants you to! I know you're better than that, I know you can see the truth…please…"

 

Jia paused significantly, rising back to her full height and stepping a few paces closer. Instinctively Mei backed up until she was trapped against a pillar, the light of the crystals making her face look eerily pallid, almost ghastly—or maybe that was her real skin color under her fur as she began to understand, and accept, what had happened…and what she had done.

 

Lowering her double scimitar the tiniest of margins so that no one but Mei could see it, she poured every ounce of passion, will, and desperation into her voice and expression. "Look into my eyes, Mei Mei," she pleaded. "I didn't do it. You know I didn't. I loved him. I loved _you_. You have to believe me…"

 

Elsewhere, as a bizarre counterpoint to this silent, introspective, heartfelt moment, she could hear Xiu shrieking and screaming in agony—and she didn't care one bit. Her sister had used her for the last time, pushed her too far, and if it was the last thing she did, she _would_ have her old life back…at least to this small extent.

 

It was too late to stop being an assassin, she would always be hated and the law would never look the other way at what she had done…but if she had to be on the run for the rest of her life, alone save for her sisters, or if she would be arrested and executed for her crimes…at least Mei would know the truth, and she'd still have her love and forgiveness.

 

All was silent and still. She could see the exact moment it happened, when something shifted inside Mei, when those familiar and well-loved brown eyes softened, relaxed…and abruptly turned stricken, pained, and terribly sad. She knew her half-sister could see it in her eyes, see she was telling the truth…and that it was almost as awful as the lie she'd believed for twenty years. "Oh gods…all this time…you really didn't…" She swallowed hard, started to move toward her, one paw coming clear of her staff so she could spread her arms wide for an embrace. "I'm so, so sorry, Jia…"

 

"Stay back!" she hissed fiercely, bringing her weapon up like a shield between them. She glanced back over her shoulder, but Xiu and Tai Lung were literally locked in a maelstrom of teeth and claws, rolling and punching and kicking across the ground, while Chao only had eyes for Crane, his claw bracer clashing again and again with the Ring Blades so that the vaulted roof of the cavern rang with the shimmering sound. Nevertheless, she kept her voice low.

 

"Look…I'm glad you understand the score now, you know where I stand. But there's nothing you can do for me. I didn't kill Father, but I might as well have since I led Xiu right to him. And I've done many things since then that were just as bad. So don't get some foolishly heroic idea about trying to save me. I just wanted you to know the truth, before the end. That way you can go after the real culprit with my blessing…on my behalf."

 

Mei Ling, unsurprisingly, looked both stunned and bristling with indignation; she should have known her half-sister would be contrary. Stubbornness certainly seemed to run in the Wu line! "What? Are you out of your mind? Of _course_ I'm going to save you! I mean, you've had to live with this guilt for twenty years…living a life you hated and never wanted, with Xiu always breathing down your neck—judging you, needling you, torturing you for her amusement or to make you do what she wanted. I can't imagine what that must have been like…but I wasn't there to help you. No one was. I don't understand how you didn't go mad from it all!" She shook her head firmly. "I won't let you stay in that life a moment longer."

 

Groaning in frustration, and snarling in spite of herself, the Wu Sister immediately swung her double scimitar about again, inverting it to swipe first one blade and then the other in Mei's direction so that the mountain cat was forced to hastily back up and dodge the razor-sharp metal, letting out a startled cry as she did so.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, it was pretty rotten, now that you mention it. But it's not your fault, you didn't know—leaving me alone was what Xiu wanted you to do. And it doesn't excuse or justify the things I did later. I still have blood on my paws, even if I never wanted it there, and hated every minute of shedding it. Don't think you can wash it away…it's never going to leave my fur. I'm still guilty…still of a tainted bloodline…still a Wu."

 

"Is that what Xiu told you?" Mei snapped, clearly angry all over again, and in spite of herself, Jia winced. She needed to drive her half-sister away, to keep her from indulging in a futile attempt at salvation, or else Chao and Xiu would make sure it was the last thing the mistress of the thousand scrolls ever did. But that didn't mean she wanted to, or had to like it. "And you believed her? You're worse off than I thought, sis. I guess you really are a brainless ditz after all."

 

"Insulting me isn't going to work," she retorted as she swung again at Mei's midsection, which she dodged by slipping around the pillar and dancing free across the cavern. "I've heard them all before from Xiu…and unlike her, I know you don't really mean them."

 

"Huh. And here I thought maybe it'd light a fire under you…or at least help you grow a backbone." The mountain cat growled, gritting her teeth, managing to swing her staff quickly enough to catch Jia a glancing blow under the chin. "You really want Xiu dictating everything you say and do for the rest of your life? You want her to get away with what she's done to you? To all of us? You don't want to punish her yourself?"

 

Jia didn't know whether to laugh at her half-sister's naïveté, scream in warning at her to get away and out of her life before she too had hers ruined (or ended), or cry pitifully at how much she wished she could believe it was possible to escape. She settled for forcing her voice to be as cold and hard as she could manage. "Of course not. But it's not that simple…and anyway, it's too late for that."

 

" _Bull!_ " The word came out as a half-yowl, half-roar, and as it escaped Mei's throat the mountain cat sprang forward—and right past Jia. Even as the snow leopardess paused, unable to keep a tiny, querulous mew from escaping her lips, she couldn't help but watch in awe as the Li Dai graduate ran past her to the base of another pillar and didn't even hesitate, running right up it only to perform a wide backflip that took her right over Jia's head.

 

As she landed, the Wu Sister turned instinctively to swing her _da huan dao_ down at her prone form, but Mei hadn't finished moving—descending into a perfect split on the cavern floor, she brought her staff up to block the incoming blow as effortlessly as a cherry blossom landing on water. Glaring up past their crossed weapons, she continued as if nothing whatsoever had interrupted.

 

"Po was right, it's _never_ too late! Jia, what Xiu did to you wasn't fair…what she did to Father was evil and sick. She has to pay for it, right now—and you have to get free of her." Her jaw quivered, her throat fluttered. "She already took you away from me once, I won't let her do it again. She took Father away, too. She's ruined everything, and now you're all I have left…please…"

 

Staring down at her half-sister in disbelief, anguish, and paralyzed indecision, Jia gasped softly. She couldn't move; she could barely speak. On the one paw, it had been so very long since anyone had been concerned about her welfare, let alone shown such fierce devotion, protectiveness, and even love; to have it be Mei made it even more incredible and touching. On the other paw…she couldn't keep the litany from echoing and thundering in her head: _"Cross the line once more, and both you and Mei Ling's lives will be forfeit. You know I can do it, and I will."_

 

She couldn't afford to let Mei try and help her, or give Xiu a chance to realize there was any bond at all developing between them; if that occurred, her eldest sister would kill both of them without a second's thought—Mei first, just to make Jia watch. And as for Chao…if he became involved, Mei would _wish_ all he'd do was kill her…

 

Forcing herself to snap out of her reverie, Jia lashed out instinctively, bringing her scimitar blade down. But Mei smoothly darted one foot up and knocked it away, allowing her to scramble adroitly upright again, and in seconds they were both literally swinging away at each other with their weapons, each ducking and weaving to avoid the blows but otherwise refusing to leave off the violent, full-crescent arcs. In the midst of this, the snow leopardess continued to try to make her half-sister see reason, albeit with an increasingly manic quality to her voice. "No! No, you don't understand, Mei Mei, and you never will! I can't let you do this…you can't be involved, or they'll kill you!"

 

"All the more reason to put an end to this, and get out now while you still can," the mountain cat purred with an authoritative air. "If you're that worried about me, or yourself, neither of us will ever be safe until Xiu and Chao are dead."

 

She had her there. But Jia refused to admit there was merit in the idea…she was too afraid of what would happen to her if she dared stand up to Xiu again, let alone the _chi_ wizard. She was good, but they were better; all she would get for her troubles was to be slain faster, and while that would certainly free her from their influence (unless Chao brought her back as his slave, of course…), it wouldn't help Mei or get the justice they both craved.

 

And somehow, despite everything, she didn't want to die just yet. She did have things to live for. She wanted to visit her father's grave and apologize to him for not being able to save him. She wanted Xu Mei to embrace her once more, to be the real mother she'd always longed for. She wanted to make up for lost time, reconnect with Mei Ling and spend many more years learning and fighting alongside the warrior she'd always admired so much. She still harbored hope she might possibly have a chance with Tai Lung, could persuade him to give up his crusade for Tigress's heart and see there was a lonely, vibrant woman here who would happily, even eagerly give him all he asked for.

 

And after what she'd learned about Po, and how much he'd turned out to be like Bao in all the ways that counted but none of the bad, she even found herself wanting to watch over the Dragon Warrior's progress, perhaps help train him if he and the others would ever allow it—certainly to be his friend…

 

Again, Jia forced down her chaotic, jumbled thoughts and focused on Mei Ling. With tears in her eyes, she choked out a reply at last, even as she swung again and again with increasing ferocity and determination, her words punctuated periodically by the battering of metal against wood. "It doesn't matter. I don't deserve to get out, or be saved. I've done such terrible things…the best I can hope for is life in prison, and somehow I don't think that's going to happen. You should just forget about me…I don't matter anymore." Xiu had made that perfectly clear…and even though she knew it was wrong, she'd allowed that belief of her sister's to become her own, bone-deep.

 

Whether because that admission had so stunned her it made her concentration slip, or because she'd done so on purpose for a reason she couldn't fathom, Mei hesitated a fraction of a second too long, keeping her staff held horizontally before her body, and Jia took advantage of it in just as short a moment—slashing down with the sharp edge of one scimitar blade rather than the flat side. The staff was neatly cut in two, leaving the mountain cat with two much smaller shafts that could still be used as paired blunt weapons—but would not be of much use at all in blocking her _da huan dao_.

 

Seeming to realize this, Mei tossed them aside to clatter on the floor—but as Jia leaned in for the finishing blow that would knock her sister out…take her out of the fight, and preserve her life…the other feline proved how wily and sneaky she truly was by grabbing onto the handle of the double scimitar with both paws and shoving back, hard. In moments she had thrown Jia back by main strength, pinning her against a pillar and pressing the weapon hard against her throat to choke her.

 

"Never," she gasped with a fire she hadn't heard from Mei in a long time. It was incredible what a little knowledge and truth could do, how knowing Jia hadn't killed Wu Xuan had resurrected those old familial feelings of loyalty and honor which were now just as intense and undeniable. "I don't care what you've done. It was under duress, it was in fear of your life, mine, and anyone else's you cared about. You can be forgiven, and pardoned. In fact I'll make sure of it!"

 

"B-but…" Jia whimpered, peering up at her. "You…you're a great master, the best that…ever came out of Li Dai, the first woman to…master the thousand scrolls! I'm just a wicked, low-life assassin…you stand up for me…and you'll lose all that…"

 

"I don't care," Mei declared simply. "I have to save you…and Xiu has to be stopped."

 

Her grip loosened slightly on the scimitar handle as her paws became coated in sweat, and Jia succeeded in shoving the weapon back the other way. As Mei stumbled back, the snow leopardess lurched away from the pillar, swung about to give herself enough open space, and then flipped her half-sister over her head using the weapon as the pivot point. Before Mei could recover from the body slam into the cavern floor, Jia was atop her, pinning her down with one knee while she inverted the scimitar and kissed the tip of its blade against the mountain cat's throat.

 

There she froze, staring down at those bright brown eyes which, despite a lingering trace of fear, were otherwise quite calm and composed. "Why?" she said at last, after a pregnant pause filled with only the sound of their heaving breaths. "Why would you do this for me? I didn't wield the blade, but it's still my fault this all happened."

 

"No, it isn't," Mei said softly. "Don't ever believe that. Xiu used you, manipulated you, made everyone hate you—especially me, and including yourself. She's the only one to blame here. And maybe me, for falling for her lies and doing to you just what she wanted me to. As for why…because it's the right thing to do. Because what happened to you was unfair and cruel. And because it's what Baba would want."

 

That hit Jia harder than anything else Mei had said to her. All this time, even as she wallowed in justified self-pity for her suffering and loss, she had been so selfish: she had bemoaned the loss of both Mei and her mother's love and respect, she had blamed herself for Wu Xuan's death, and she had resented and hated Xiu for how she wrapped her around her paw fingers by terrifying her into submission. But she had never once thought how her father might feel about all this were he still alive.

 

At the last, when he had died in her arms, she had seen betrayal in his eyes…if she'd allowed herself to think of this at all, she had believed it to be directed at her. But what if it had been for Xiu, or whoever had slain him if he had not seen? What if he had died still loving her, still believing in her, still wishing her to only do good and break free of Xiu?

 

"Do you see?" the feline pinned beneath her whispered. "You aren't alone anymore. I've got your back. I'm not going to leave you, not ever again. And if you'll join with me, we can get rid of this _chi_ mage, save Tai Lung and his friends…and get rid of Xiu once and for all. What do you say?"

 

Slowly, even as she kept the quivering blade trained on Mei's throat, Jia looked up to see what was going on around her, outside the narrow focus of her battle mindset. Although Crane, Tigress, and Tai Lung had all broken off for their respective battles, and Monkey continued to labor over the red panda, Po stood watching her raptly—keeping Viper from intervening, she saw, and if she missed her guess it wasn't just to protect Shifu from Xiu or Chun.

 

And as she met his green eyes, she saw something there she had never expected before: kindness, sympathy, and encouragement. He couldn't possibly have heard the last exchanges between she and Mei Ling…unless that old legend about the Dragon Warrior being able to hear a butterfly's wing beats was true. But maybe he didn't have to… He nodded, once, and suddenly she felt a warmth, a hope, and a determination in her she never had before.

 

Jia glanced back over her shoulder, in the direction of her eldest sister—and then she looked back down to Mei, took a deep breath, and gave her answer.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Everything was a blur. Nothing existed outside his frame of reference save the panting, snarling maelstrom of claws and fangs that was his opponent. No sounds could be heard, only his own growls and roars and his pulse pounding in his ears. He could see nothing except his antagonist's face, and even that was overlain by a film of red, and it was not due to blood soaking his face. Not that there wasn't a fair share of it covering both his body and Xiu's—he'd lost track of how many times each of them had screamed out in agony as claws dug into flesh, raking sides, shoulders, thighs, anywhere they could get their paws on, and in many places their fur had become crimson or dark brown rather than gray.

 

But none of this mattered to him, just as the Wu Sister seemed to have become so enraged, so overwhelmed by a berserker's adrenaline that she did not even feel the excruciating pain of her burned paws, and both of them ignored the deep bruises where fists and feet had battered their hips, knees, stomachs, and backs. All that mattered to each of them was beating their enemy within an inch of their life, to literally grind their faces in the ground and smash their bones in wherever they could.

 

Xiu fought with mindless ferocity, and Tai Lung was no better; she cheated, fought dirty, and played every mean trick in the book (and a number that weren't in it), so that he had to retaliate the same way just to preserve himself…but all too soon he was doing it because he enjoyed it, because he would not be pleased unless he made her suffer, and because it was a familiar and even pleasurable companion from his own days of insanity and vengeance.

 

He smashed her into a pillar, pulverizing the stone behind her and making the air whoosh out of her lungs. She kicked him _hard_ in the stomach, hurling him twenty feet across the cavern to slam into one of the crystal formations, shattering it utterly with an eerie sound like overlapping waves of smashing glass—he was lucky, he realized dimly as he struggled back to his feet, that none of the pastel minerals had had sharp points aimed his way, or else he would surely have been impaled.

 

When she came scrambling toward him, leaping in the air to deliver a devastating forward flying kick, he latched onto her ankle and literally twirled her about above his head, sending her crashing into another cluster of upthrust gemstone. She recovered from that with impossible speed, somersaulting in a barrel roll across the floor that brought her feet up into his face to latch around his neck—but he allowed her ankles to slip into place, ducking into the tumble she'd been trying for so that instead of being hurled off his feet, he willingly fell to the ground and rolled over her, reversing her move and taking her with him in an odd, snow leopard Yin-Yang.

 

The two of them separated when they crashed into the base of another pillar, except Tai Lung caught himself with one paw (wincing as the sharp grains of stone dug into his sliced palm) and backflipped away to land upright again, while Xiu slammed into the support hard enough to crack her backbone. But apparently she hadn't, since the assassin was soon up and launching at him yet again, utterly relentless.

 

The ex-convict was by now almost lost to his feral savagery, having forgotten completely his earlier determination to remain focused and in control, given over only to a primal, intense desire to make this woman pay for all she had done: lying to him, leading him on for months about something she never possessed to begin with, almost killing both Po and Tigress, actually killing Zhuang, trying to turn everyone at the Palace and in the Valley against him, refusing to abandon her attempts to forcibly induct him into her clan and serve Chao…

 

She was worthless, she was wicked and vile to the core, nothing and no one would care if she died and in fact many would rejoice. She was not an innocent, nor was she someone he'd wrongfully hated and rejected in the name of blind devotion to a deluded dream. Kung fu was meant for defense, and the taking of sacred life was never to be done lightly…but the best defense was a good offense, and if slaying her would prevent further atrocity and suffering down the line…

 

So went his justifications. But just when it was almost too late, when he would have fallen into darkness again and been beyond the reach of anyone to save and restore to himself, Tai Lung was finally knocked to his senses—literally. For as he let out a deafening, thunderous roar that made the cavern shake and brought dust and stone crumbling down from on high, and as he leaped toward Xiu with the full intention of burying his fangs in her throat and ripping it out in a terrible, but glorious, spray of blood and flesh, the assassin whirled around in a roundhouse that caught him right in the face.

 

As he felt his cheekbone crack and blood exploding down his chin from where he'd been made to bite his own lip, the snow leopard was whirled across the Vault and sent sprawling flat on his stomach, skidding several feet until he fetched up against a pillar. And there, as he woozily shook his dazed head, wiped away as much of the upwelling blood as he could, and struggled to sit upright, he saw something that completely banished the bloodlust, the spirit of vengeance, and the maddened fury from his heart and mind…leaving him more clear-headed, and more ashamed, than he would have believed possible.

 

What he saw was, across the way, the form of Tigress sprinting across the cavern toward Wu Chun, leaping up and pushing off with one foot to hurtle through the air, the other foot outstretched to kick her in the chest, while the _dao_ sabers of Master Dog slashed out and down alongside her leg—clearly meant to cut deeply into the snow leopardess's arms should she block the attack or try to slice her thighs with her fire wheels.

 

But it wasn't this amazing display of dexterity and skill that shocked him out of his battle rage, nor the equally amazing way Chun blocked both of the descending Ninja Weapons with her fire wheels and at the same time leaned back at almost a full horizontal to duck beneath the tiger's incoming foot. It was simply seeing Tigress at all, remembering she was there, and recalling she was in danger.

 

He fully believed, of course, that she could defeat any foe, including Chun. That wasn't what worried or upset him. It was realizing that in his zeal to take out Xiu, he had neglected his companions. Any one of them could have been badly injured or even killed, and he wouldn't even have noticed! Just as crucially, the snow leopard was simply reminded what it was he was fighting for, the reason for all of this: it wasn't just to get payback against those who had hurt him, who had either made him a monster or wished to do so again. It was to fight alongside great warriors and _friends_ , to learn to be part of an incredible team, to have others to defend and protect—to feel needed, trusted, and worthwhile.

 

But if he allowed himself to be distracted by this vendetta, to let his grudge against Xiu blind him to all else that was going on, he would fail. Either Xiu would use his madness against him, and thus manipulate and take advantage of his overconfidence and lack of battle awareness…as Po had…and defeat him, or his unrelenting, ferocious, insane determination would have overwhelmed and defeated her. Either way, he still failed. For even if he lived and Xiu died or was taken out of the equation, he would likely be too battered and bruised to be of any help to the others. This would cut down their chances of victory. Then Chao would likely succeed in slaying them all.

 

Tai Lung's mind sharpened. He would not lose his friends now, or the chance to go into battle at their side for many years hence. He would not lose his father, or the chance to regain all they had lost and forge all-new memories and bonds. And most of all, he definitely would not lose the woman he loved, or the chance to start a family with her, and all the possibilities a life at her side offered…

 

Nor would he allow himself to make the same mistake he had when fighting the Dragon Warrior. If he were to keep rushing at her in a rage, just keep hitting, and so show he had learned absolutely nothing about humility and the differing kinds of strength, then he would not only lose—he would be unworthy of practicing kung fu, the one thing he was born to be good at.

_It doesn't matter I've shown I'm good at other things, too. Fixing roofs and playing with children isn't going to take out a Wu Sister. And if I can't show why I'm the best at what I do, what I spent my whole damned life mastering and training for, then what good am I? I'm a fighter_ — _it's time I prove I'm a clever one, and a protector, too…_

 

Scrambling up to his feet, he saw that Xiu had been standing nearby, watching him lie prone on the ground, likely enjoying this position of superiority over him—and she even gazed at him with a sadistic, hungry relish, practically licking her lips at seeing him (in her mind at least) cowering, cringing, and displaying weakness. Once he was upright and gave away the fact he was hardly giving up or abandoning their combat, the assassin frowned and began to slowly approach him with all the mannerisms and intensity of the stalking cat she was. And when, rather than launching at her in a crazed, wild attempt to tear her limb from limb once more, Tai Lung instead waited silent and still for her to come to him, Xiu let out another vicious snarl and leaped at him.

 

Yet he did not flinch or falter, only centering himself on his lessons, on consuming the fires of his temper in those of his _chi_ , on holding his ground as a stoic, solid opponent—a tree that would not break because its roots ran too deep, a mountain that would not bow before the mountain gales. Slipping completely into defensive mode, he fell back and crouched low, allowing Xiu to overshoot and fly over his head, and when she turned back for another run he deftly warded her away with one Crane deflection strike after another, continually sending her blows wide or turning them away by mere inches, all while he kept his mind ordered and his thoughts rapid, trying to devise a plan that would work against her in the long term.

 

He knew, in her enraged, crazed state, she would not last long against a seasoned combatant who kept his head together and didn't relapse into the same willy-nilly, haphazard mania. But with the way she didn't even seem to feel the agony she must be in, let alone notice how pieces of charred and bloody flesh were sloughing off her paws every time she struck him, it was a moot point: before he could ever wear her down or outsmart her, she would take him out through sheer unstoppable force. He had to think of a way to confuse her, distract her, make her so insane with hate and rage she'd be easy pickings for him—or better still, one of his comrades. That was what Tigress had done on Wu Dan to allow Po to get the drop on her, or so he'd been told.

 

But which style would work best? Dragon? No, too slow, not to mention predictable coming from him. Mantis? No, she'd expect that in honor of his fallen friend. Drunken Monkey? He'd never been very good at that, not because he lacked the skill or mastery but because he hated doing anything that made him look weaker, ineffectual, or a mockery…

 

Without warning, Xiu succeeded in getting through his defenses in his moment of inattention, and in order to avoid the powerful Tiger Fist coming down at his already tender jaw, he dodged by leaning backwards, bending as if a stalk of wheat before a strong wind. Stumbling as she missed him completely, her paw breezing by past his heaving chest, she was unprepared when he sprang back up and lashed out with a Viper strike across her chest, sending her reeling back. And as she recovered and renewed her assault on him, it suddenly hit him.

_Am I a master of the thousand scrolls or not? Do I know all the styles of kung fu, or don't I?_ Inwardly he began to scold himself—even if Xiu knew them all too (which he was fairly certain she did not), she could never be able to weather his attacks if he threw at her every single move he knew. Especially not if he mixed them up, shifted from one to the other at random and without any indication what he would do next, made use of the styles in unexpected, even counterintuitive ways… It just might work. It would certainly throw her for a loop, and it just might win him the day. There was no time like the present to try it out.

 

Xiu came leaping at him, fists and feet flying in one punch and kick after another—but he deflected every single one with an outflung, perfectly flat hand, exactly the way Crane made use of his wings. On the last block, however, he suddenly turned his paw into a Tiger Fist and slammed hard, quick, and fiercely into the snow leopardess, a constant barrage of punches up her arms and shoulders that both drove them back and would make it hurt to even move them, let alone perform kung fu.

 

Of course, she shrugged it aside and flung herself at him yet again, but he dodged by backflipping from her Monkey style—and in the process, kicked her right in the chin, in the same manner Tigress had done to him at the Thread of Hope, and she had done to him at Yunxian. _I may be after justice, not vengeance, but payback is still so sweet!_ Rolling back to his feet, he whirled around and applied a flurry of whipping Viper kicks to Xiu's barreling form.

 

Still she kept coming, and he let her—until, when she was only inches from him and hauling back to smash her fist into his collarbone, he reacted with even greater speed, aiming his Leopard Claw in a jab toward her stomach. She evaded it by twisting aside, but he in turn inverted his paw and brought it up in a Mantis strike right against her breastbone—and then his other paw came into play, applying a painfully strong Dragon Claw to her shoulder that pinched the dorsal and axillary nerves. Unsurprisingly, Xiu wrenched away with a strangled cry, jerked her shoulder clear and backpedaled a yard or so away, frustration and distress warring on her countenance.

 

As the Wu Sister began circling him again, once more wary of him, and eyed him with both concern and mounting resentment, Tai Lung smiled slightly to himself. _It's working. She didn't expect a barrage like that. And now, when she thinks she knows what I'll do…_

 

Once again she tried to punch him, and once again he turned it aside with a Crane deflection—except this time, instead of merely warding her away, his weaving, twisting arm and wrist didn't just flick her aside, it flung her arm up with such swiftness and at such an angle that Xiu was unable to avoid it in time, subsequently punching herself in the face. _The Crane Stylist uses no or little force of their own, choosing to allow their attacker to defeat themselves._

 

He followed this up with a jab from his semi-closed Monkey Claw that struck her right in the throat. Choking and gasping, and still reeling from the self-inflicted blow to her chin, the assassin attempted a roundhouse—aimed high, of course, since all of his attacks had come from his arms and paws. But he blocked her—with one arm in the L-shaped defensive posture of the Tiger style, absorbing almost the entirety of the blow.

 

Snarling venomously, Xiu tried again, this time aiming low…but with relative ease he turned all the energy she'd poured into him into a Mantis evasion, his leg describing a circle in the air as he spun away from her—which, naturally, caused her to topple off-balance as she swung her leg through nothing at all and fell flat on her face.

 

Tai Lung grinned down at her. "Oh _dear_. It seems you're the one who's dreadfully inept now. Perhaps you should be getting lessons from the Dragon Warrior? He used to fall just like that, but he's since gotten much better…I'm sure he'd be happy to teach you how to fall properly…again, and again…"

 

Letting out a particularly rancid curse, the blue-eyed feline tried to scramble back up again—but he was ready for her, bringing his right paw down in a Viper strike to stab at the base of her neck, making her kiss the ground yet again. Screaming her hatred of him, Xiu finally rolled free of his significantly long reach and made it back to her feet again, leaping at him in another forward kick as her paws flew in a frantic blur of punches and chops, any of which could easily hit him—by sheer accident, if nothing else.

 

Except he wasn't there anymore, for he had launched off the floor with one foot and leaped ten feet into the air to avoid her attacks completely…switching his axis to the horizontal and almost gliding in slow motion as if he lay upon an invisible cloud, a flawless Plum Blossom and a move only a true Dragon Master was capable of. _A novice begins with a solid stance, firmly rooted in the earth…but by the time you reach the advanced level, you can soar the skies._ He wondered if that was why Oogway had kept the Dragon Scroll so high above the Sacred Hall, and not just to keep it out of reach of thieves (and curious cubs)…

 

When he finally arced downward to land, Xiu was of course waiting for him—but quite obviously, she'd never mastered the Dragon style, for she was caught completely off-guard when he dropped down into the splits, her kick whizzing by overhead yet again. Before she could compensate, he sprang up—but only partway, adopting the low, crouching stance he'd invented for his own use, then spinning into a roundhouse that knocked the Wu Sister's legs out from under her.

 

"Still not learning, precious," he taunted. "I suppose those classes you took at Li Dai were woefully out-of-date. Then again, that _was_ twenty years ago…things have advanced so much since then. And you don't seem to have learned them well anyway…" Snarling, Xiu limped back to her feet, nursing a bruised shin and a scraped knee, only to spring toward him with murder in her eyes.

 

And so it went. Over and over, he switched effortlessly and easily from one kung fu style to the next, flowing seamlessly and fluidly until it seemed as if he were dancing, while Xiu's attacks became more and more brutal, violent, and sadly undirected. Again and again, he made use of the styles in ways she could not predict, in orders that broke the 'pattern' he'd created—Tiger and Dragon used to defend rather than attack, Monkey and Crane used to attack rather than evade, Viper and Mantis shifting back and forth between evasion, attack, and defense since they were the most versatile forms.

 

He also threw in as many of his own signature moves as he could, as well as Eagle Claw joint-locks just for variety's sake. And each time he did so, Xiu became more clumsy, desperate, confused, and erratic, while his own moves by contrast became increasingly effective…and the more he watched her devolve into a spitting, yowling, clawing animal that barely resembled the woman she had once been, the more calm, cool—and incredibly, _patient_ —Tai Lung became. _I've discovered a new battle style for myself, one I never actually got to put into practice_.

 

Pride swelled within him. He knew now he could win this, he knew that he could defeat her…and in turn also defeat Chao, protect those he loved and cared for, ensure Xiu and Chao would never hurt anyone again…

 

The whole time these thoughts ran through his mind, he was striking at Xiu. Once again he forced her incoming paw to rebound into her jaw, this time with a circular Mantis hook-strike. Immediately he whirled his arm around and down into Viper whips, and because she was expecting the lighter deflection (and higher-aimed) Crane chops, she was completely out of position when his lightning-quick paw slashed at her stomach. Even further enraged, she lunged for him with a furious kick that, if it had connected, would surely have knocked him out when it struck the side of his head.

 

But…at the last second, he pretended to stumble, ducking down and staggering away from her as if he had, in fact, been badly hit, and his motor functions were now impaired. _Just because I hate Drunken Monkey doesn't mean I don't know how to do it. And she'd **never** have guessed I would do something so humiliating…_

 

Feigning a confused, puzzled look, the snow leopard began rolling, spinning, flipping, dodging about, never staying in the same place twice, and Xiu could only futilely pursue him. Stabbing down with feet and fists, ducking and kicking and punching, she continually missed him by inches, no matter how fast she moved—and soon enough she was exploding in frustration. "Damn it, stay _still_!"

 

Pausing briefly on all fours to peer up at her, doing his best to adopt one of Monkey's most ingenuous and innocent expressions, he pursed his lips. "No."

 

While she was still staring down at him in disbelief, ire, and sheer loathing, he abruptly rose back up again to spin about, using the Dragon move known as Turn to Hook and Hit: using one of the joint-locks common to both that style and Eagle Claw, he caught her by the elbow as she was punching toward him to both halt her attack and lower her defense (since she now had one less arm to block with), then dragged her toward him.

 

He shifted styles in the middle of the move, however, so that the hit which struck was a Crane jab right in the eye. Following that up with a Tiger Fist to her groin, doubling her over, he used his other paw to administer his secret strike to her temple, as he had to Chun at Yunxian.

 

Then, one after another in quick succession, he applied an Eagle Claw pressure strike to her thigh, paralyzing her sciatic nerve; a Monkey kick to her other knee, snapping it in two and making her collapse practically into his arms; a Viper chop at her elbow as she attempted to backhand him that broke the bone there as well; and then a Mantis hook around the other elbow which allowed him to hoist her completely off the ground (wrenching her arm out of its socket in the process), flip her over his hip, and lift her high overhead to whirl her about as if she weighed nothing more than a feather.

 

Finally, after he had slammed her repeatedly into the ground (in the same manner Mantis had once told him he'd trounced Po on the panda's first day of training), Xiu collapsed in utter defeat…shuddering, shivering, and letting out very disturbing, inarticulate cries. In fact he thought he detected a few tearful sobs in there. But he hardened his heart and refused to entertain any notions of sympathy, instead standing over her to stare down in grim condemnation.

 

"It's over, Xiu. I know it may be a bit much to ask, but at least _attempt_ to be a fair loser, and accept defeat gracefully. It is your name, after all. You can't win, you'll only kill yourself trying…we're going to get rid of Chao as well, there's nothing left for you here…"

 

Chest heaving, blood running from her mouth, both legs and one arm equally useless, eyes glazed over but still filled with nothing but contempt and cruelty, Wu Xiu glared up at him for several long moments. Then at last, a spasm passed over her face, her eyes closed, and she seemed to relent, her chin falling weakly onto her chest as she slumped over.

 

He didn't trust her of course, even now, and he was right not to—for just as he began to turn away, she somehow drew upon a well of strength and lunged upward on her half-paralyzed leg, hauling back her good arm to deliver one last punch. He intervened with one paw to deflect it to the side…but that was where she'd been aiming all along, so that he missed her spotted fur by centimeters. And suddenly he was screaming in mortal agony as her fist struck him, with crushing, punishing force, right in the ribs where his arrow wound lay.

 

Collapsing weakly on both knees, clutching at his side and writhing as tears of pain sprang to his eyes, Tai Lung could only watch as Xiu staggered upright, limping painfully forward to stand over him. Her insane blue eyes were wide with anticipation at his incipient demise, flat and vicious and utterly lacking in anything human anymore; if he could view _chi_ , the way Mantis had been able to, he suspected her aura would be as roiling, black, and wicked as Heian Chao's. She had removed a dagger from its sheath and now held it above him, licking her lips while she shook her head in mock sorrow.

 

"Oh, Tai Tai…you put up such a good fight, you really were quite innovative there. I salute you. But it was really all for nothing. So sad…you should have joined me when you had the chance, we would have made an excellent team…" She paused, eyes flashing. "I'll be seeing you again soon…when Chao resurrects you as his…"

 

She raised the dagger high, and Tai Lung, still overwhelmed by the pain—not only of his side, but of every other wound he possessed which he was now finally starting to feel—could not even move out of the way in time…

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw a blur of motion, one he could have sworn was silvery-gray. Xiu, poised to make the killing blow, didn't see it—not until she abruptly stiffened, back arching, an anguished scream escaping her lips. The knife clattered free of numb fingers, her hips trembled, and she began to stagger forward…and now he could see why. Behind her, knelt low upon one knee, Wu Jia glared hatefully up at her sister—and she had her own dagger buried right in the small of Xiu's back, clearly puncturing her kidney.

 

Slowly, Xiu turned her head and looked down, bewildered and horrified. As she met those violet eyes, Jia smirked coldly. "You didn't know me as well as you thought you did. I'm not the weak one… _you_ are. And I'm living my own life now…you don't control me anymore."

 

 

Tai Lung glanced rapidly to the side, to where the youngest sister had been locked in combat with…yes. He saw Mei Ling standing there, arms crossed over her narrow chest, smiling in slow, vengeful vindication. And incredibly, he also saw something else lying on the ground not far from her feet, from where it had toppled from the heights of the cavern—a small, ancient blade inscribed with a glowing green dragon, the dagger half of the Sword of Heroes.

 

"Mei!" he called. "Toss it!"

 

He had been ready to spare Xiu's life, to offer her the mercy she would not have offered him or anyone else, despite all she had done and the simmering anger he still felt at being denied the truth of his parentage. He had wanted to imprison her again, so she could be put on trial and justice could be achieved for Zhuang. So he could keep his oath to Xiulan. But he knew now that there could be no other recourse…the only way to stop Xiu, to keep her from ever harming anyone ever again, was…

 

The mountain cat had obeyed with alacrity, and his head jerked up as he felt the blade land in his outstretched paw. Instantly he turned back and, in the same motion, lunged upright and forward. Xiu, still gazing at Jia in betrayal and disgust, didn't even see him coming, only turning her head back when it was too late—when he had buried the Sword of Heroes to the hilt in her chest. She gasped, arched her back again, a rattling, gurgling sound coming from her throat.

 

Leaning in close to her ear, he couldn't help himself. As he literally twisted the knife in her body, he whispered silkily, menacingly, to the eldest Wu Sister. "Say hello…to the _yaoguai_ for me…"

 

The light seemed to die in her eyes, and then blood began to leak from the corners of her mouth…a trickle at first, then a small river becoming a veritable fountain, coursing down her chest to stain her tunic and fur with the essence of her life. And then, impaled from two sides, Xiu slowly, with a strange gentle limpness, collapsed on the ground and was still.

 

Slowly…very slowly…Tai Lung let out a deep sigh of relief. He felt wearier than he ever had, even after his fight with Vachir, and though he knew he wasn't done yet, that he could never stop fighting until Chao was dead and the Valley was safe again, he took a few moments to lean weakly against a crystal formation, shuddering and gasping and trying not to be conscious of every bruise, cut, cracked bone, and gaping wound he now possessed.

 

Gingerly, cautiously, he placed a paw on his side—he could feel the hole the arrow had made had reopened, the stitches torn apart by that blow, and his pulse thrummed under his touch as blood slowly but surely began soaking through the bandages. _Damn it. Will I even make it through this next battle? Gods, if only Mantis were here…_ But he couldn't afford to be selfish, he simply had to fight on. If it cost him his life, well at least Chao would be stopped…

 

A small paw touched his cheek. He turned to look down, unsurprisingly, at Jia. The lust he had always seen burning in her eyes seemed highly muted now, dimmed down to affection, caring, and a certain undeniable admiration. But otherwise she seemed less of a slut and more of a concerned friend now. "Hey…big guy. You did well. You really are amazing, you know that?"

 

Tai Lung smirked lopsidedly at her. "You'd better not keep that up. Letting such things go to my head was what started all this, you know."

 

Nodding amiably, even though the awe didn't leave her bright eyes, the snow leopardess chuckled, then offered an arm around his torso so he could lean on her shoulder. "I'll get you over to the others, maybe they can get you patched up before things get any worse."

 

"Glad to see you've figured out what side you were on at last," he said softly. She blinked slowly at him, then nodded shyly.

 

Stooping to pull the Sword of Heroes out of Xiu's body, and wiping its blade distastefully on her own tunic, Jia led him toward where Monkey, Po, and Viper still stood within the cleft of Master Takin's hoof, the latter two staring at them both but especially the Wu Sister in mingled shock and excitement. Just before they joined the others, however, she paused to give him a curious look. "By the way…what was that move you used against her, there near the end? You did it to Chun, too."

 

Tai Lung smiled, some of his old cockiness returning. "I call it the Phoenix Eye."

 

"I like it. It has a nice ring to it."

 

It did indeed. Slowly, a thought began to form in the back of his mind…

                                                                     

* * *

 

Wu Chun, still breathing hard and with adrenaline surging through her as she recovered from the split-second backbend she'd been forced to do, nevertheless managed to smile—swiftly and briefly—as she heard Master Tigress curse. She must have really been counting on her leading foot to strike the Wu Sister in the chest. True, anyone else would have been hard-pressed to avoid both the forward kick and the Ninja Weapons at the same time…but she wasn't just anyone. She, too, had been at the top of her class at Li Dai, and unlike Xiu, she retained the clear head, precise intellect, and perfectly coordinated skills to counter even the best kung fu masters out there. And Tigress was reputed to be one of them.

 

Truth be told, she had not much enjoyed that night in the birch forest, for the directive to take the feline out from behind had been cowardly, weak, and demeaning. Tigress had had Xiu on the rocks, of course, and their orders from Chao had been clear—to remove any and all obstacles to his claiming Tai Lung, as well as demoralize and shatter the other side so it could not close ranks and stand up to him as a united front. Killing Tigress would have fulfilled both goals.

 

But whatever others might think of her, Chun was an honorable fighter…and just as importantly, using a meteor hammer to brain someone was hardly an apt way to determine who was truly the superlative fighter. Their battle at Wu Dan had been more fair and direct, but as she'd stated, far too short. This would be different. Finally, she could test her mettle against Tigress and learn who was the undisputed victor…

 

Her thoughts were broken by the striped feline leaping at her again, this time simply racing across the cavern to slash unerringly at Chun's chest. With grace and skill gained over many long years of training, the snow leopardess raised both her fire wheels in more than enough time, and at just the right angle, to block both blades as they descended. As she remained ducked down in that position, the assassin took the opening offered to her and swung one leg up to kick Tigress hard in the stomach.

 

To her surprise, the cat didn't dodge in time—sliding back, she skidded along the ground until she came to a stop, poised on one knee, hunched over with her shoulders and chest heaving as if she were trying to get her wind back. Smirking at her good fortune, Chun immediately leapt up and toward her adversary, ready to slash with both razor-sharp rings. But either the leader of the Furious Four had been cleverly faking, or else she was able to recover with stunning rapidity and able to fight through her pain and breathlessness. For in seconds she had risen, leapt back, and sidestepped—and in the same quick motion, she whirled in a circle so as to bring the hilt of one of her _dao_ sabers driving right into Chun's face.

 

Yet whether out of sheer instinct or a subconscious sense that Tigress's seeming helplessness could not be trusted—even she wasn't sure which—Chun slid to a halt and threw herself backwards just in time. The pommel of the sword did strike her, but the angle of her back and her own countermotion caused it to only land a glancing blow. Backflipping to get out of range, she landed in a crouch, and as Tigress of course came after her in a dead run, the Wu Sister whirled both fire wheels out in a crescent.

 

With impossible speed, the striped feline leapt several feet above their arc…but Chun was patiently waiting for her. _What goes up must come down, after all._ As soon as her opponent landed, she shoved out with one foot, kicking her fellow predator in the ankle so that she toppled over. Chun sprang up for the kill...but once again Tigress was one step ahead of her, planting one paw beneath her and swiveling upon it in the same manner as Tai Lung did at Yunxian. In moments her entire body was flung about its pivot point, both feet slamming into Chun with all the force of her weight behind them, and she too was knocked off her feet.

 

A pause, as both of them recovered their breath, clambered back up again, and then slowly began to circle each other. Chun, still reeling from that last blow, eyed Tigress much more warily, sizing her up and considering her in a new light. Even knowing that the striped feline and Tai Lung had become lovers didn't change the fact it was highly unlikely Tigress would ever have taken lessons from the ex-convict. Which meant the leader of the Four was simply that good, that knowledgeable of all kinds of tactics, and that much more of a threat.

 

She had known, of course, that Tigress was strong, fueled by equal parts determination, anger, and pride, and was the greatest master of her style in her generation—she even gave Tai Lung a run for his money, considering how close she'd come to defeating him at the Thread of Hope.

 

What she hadn't expected was that the woman would be so versatile, intelligent, and complex in combat—all the stories Chun had heard (and, admittedly, her own biases against the Jade Palace master) had implied or outright stated that Tigress was a very direct, by-the-book, and frankly unimaginative fighter. That rather like Tai Lung, her favorite 'tactic' had always been to merely attack and batter her opponent down through sheer unbridled power and relentless tenacity. Instead it seemed the woman was adaptable, amazingly so, and knew many more ways of laying her enemy low. This would be much more dangerous than Chun had thought—but also, more challenging. Just the way she liked it…

 

As if by unspoken agreement, both of them charged at the same moment, swinging all four of their weapons around in a flurry of vigorous slashes and blocks. Neither managed to land a hit for many minutes, so that all was lost in endless _clang_ s, the shivering of ringing metal, and their own harsh breathing, until Tigress suddenly aimed low, clearly trying to stab one of the snow leopardess's legs. Chun evaded the strike by a hair, but the kung fu warrior swung her other sword high, so that both her wheels were required to block it.

 

She did, of course, but just as naturally this also left her torso completely open to a kick, or the second sword. Chun tried to raise a leg to block Tigress's...but to her fury she found she could not. The seemingly random thrust of the lower Ninja Weapon had actually thrust it into the cavern floor at a precisely calculated angle, the flat of the blade now extending across her leg and thereby preventing her from kicking up with that leg. All of this became clear to her in only that fraction of a second she had before Tigress did indeed kick her, powerfully, right in the chest.

_Dangerous and clever indeed,_ she thought admiringly, begrudgingly impressed, as she rolled across the floor and fetched up against a crystal formation. _She isn't merely an impulsive, in-the-moment warrior…she actually plans her moves several steps in advance. But two can play at that game._

 

Chun wasted no time bemoaning the temporary setback. Ignoring the pain in her chest, she scrambled up and assumed the dual-wielding tactics of offense and defense for a while, turning her right paw to keep that fire wheel vertical in front of her body, blocking every blow of a _dao_ saber on its gleaming, sharpened edge so as to shield herself and keep away both blades and feet, the other slashing out to meet Tigress's swords again and again. In the same manner, Tigress held back one blade to ward her abdomen, chest, and legs in turn, parrying her strikes, while her other sword kept up its indefatigable assaults.

 

Without even needing to agree on it, both of them began backing in circles around the cavern, and to her chagrin Chun found that with the swords extending Tigress's reach, she couldn't get as close to her opponent as vice versa. Tigress certainly took advantage of this, thrusting forward into her fire wheel in a blatant attempt to disarm her—but Chun twisted the ring to the side, catching the sword in the metallic flames of her weapon. Snarling, Tigress was forced to use the second sword to dislodge it, and while she was thus preoccupied Chun twirled both of her wheels in intricate but seemingly random arcs between them, both to distract the striped feline and hopefully throw off her rhythm.

 

She attacked again; Tigress crossed her blades to block, then shoved back with such force she hurled Chun ten feet back into a pillar. Golden ruby eyes gleaming, she pursued the winded Wu Sister, but Chun in turn crossed her fire wheels and this time caught both blades between the interlocked flames. For several moments each woman was in danger of losing the fight, as first Tigress, then Chun, jerked their weapons back and forth. As her paws slipped on the handgrips, the assassin genuinely worried she would lose hold of her fire wheels.

 

At last Tigress pulled her swords free (yanking the green-eyed sister forward before she succeeded in wrenching the locked rings away), and instantly Chun dropped one fire wheel down, seemingly to shield her thighs, while she threw the other up to block the next slash downward. One leg soon followed this move in a roundhouse, and of course Tigress tried to dodge—but to her fury, and Chun's smug pleasure, she soon discovered the Wu Sister had pulled her own trick back on her, driving the lower fire wheel into the pillar behind her and thus pinning Tigress's pants leg to it. In seconds, and with the sound of ripping fabric, Chun swept the striped feline off her feet, hurling her several yards away.

 

To her surprise, however, the leader of the Four proved to have still more tricks up her sleeves. For even as she sinuously twisted back to her feet, she suddenly inverted one of her swords, brandishing it more like a dagger down along her side while she retained the upward angle of the other. This upside-down manner of sword-wielding was a style she'd never encountered before, other than to simply stab a fallen opponent on the ground, so she had to privately confess to a little confusion, something which annoyed her in the extreme.

 

As usual, the upper sword met her fire wheel, while the lower one's range was shorter, and still seemed meant for defense, to the point where she began to wonder if she should expect any actual attacks from it at all. Not that she was foolish enough to dismiss it from her mind, of course.

 

Indeed, Tigress did eventually strike down with it, although Chun's rapid evasion spared her worse than a couple of shallow cuts across the legs. Yet every time the snow leopardess tried to get past it with her other fire wheel, she consistently failed, the blade flicking, darting, and dancing about as if it were a cypress frond, in contrast to the upper sword that continued to slam at her with violent clashes of metal. Wielding her fire wheel in the same manner as a sword, Chun sparred in broad, vigorous, unflagging strokes, the same as she had been trained by Master Hu when he'd taught her how to handle a _pu dao_. (She had deeply regretted his death, but he had been about to expose their treachery, and the deed had been done by Xiu before she could prevent it in any case.)

 

Without warning, however, Tigress did something she never would have expected or predicted: when Chun succeeded in knocking the upright sword away, Tigress allowed her paw to be flung back so she could toss the Ninja Weapon in a wide, revolving arc above her head—which of course left her paw free to strike out in another punch.

 

Or _was_ that what she planned to do? It seemed far too easy, too simple and predictable. Perhaps it was a fake-out, and when she went to block the punch a kick would be delivered instead. She only had a split second to decide, to read those narrowed, cocky eyes of crimson and choose. Compromising, the Wu Sister kept one fire wheel at her waist while she swung up with the other to block a punch.

 

Unfortunately, just as Viper had at Wu Dan, Tigress punched her _right through_ the fire wheel, sending her flying back into yet another pillar—and she even had time, as she drew her fist back, to catch the sword by the hilt as, flipping end over end, it fell back to earth.

 

Feeling a growing bruise on her jaw, and suspecting it might have been cracked too, Chun growled and brandished her weapons anew, leaping in for a flying attack while she darted, danced, and shifted the fire wheels about in a complex, clinking pattern that kept both of them just a hair's-breadth away from swinging up or down, blocking or attacking. But then, with a practiced ease that made her realize with unease and a sinking heart that Tigress might just have more weapons practice than her usual unarmed attacks suggested, the striped feline casually struck her blades down into the ground, embedding them each at a seventy-degree angle, leaning in toward each other.

 

Hauling herself up to mount the Ninja Weapons with nimbleness and a soft _hup_ , the leader of the Four gripped the hilts for more leverage and, in the same motion, she swung her body forward and delivered a hard kick with both feet to Chun's stomach, once again hurling her backwards across the cavern. _Damn it! She's **too** good, I might not be able to beat her after all…_

 

Landing with a solid thud on the crushed rock of the floor, the snow leopardess rolled over, got her hands beneath her, and rose upright once more—but when she did, she discovered her wavering confidence was more justified than she'd realized. For Tigress's kick had thrown her in the exact center of a proliferation of jutting, shimmering, lambent crystals, a whole series of stalagmites growing organically from the floor to form a complex maze of gems.

 

And as she leaped up, Chun suddenly found herself surrounded by an endless series of her own reflections—each offset slightly, weirdly angled, or refracted into disturbing shattered images, ones that shifted, danced, and distorted with even the slightest movement so that she felt a vague sense of nausea at watching them. It wasn't seeing herself like this that bothered her…it was knowing what would happen if Tigress pursued her, as she was guaranteed to.

 

She was right. In less than a minute the striped feline was vaulting up and over the barrier of pastel-hued rock, and as she landed, disappearing amongst the crystals, Chun's own reflections were joined by image after image of Master Tigress. The Wu Sister swallowed hard; while she was grateful her opponent would likely be just as confused by the array of assassins confronting her, matters had just become a great deal more complicated. Still, she wasn't about to give up yet—there were ways around this sort of situation, and she was clever enough to discern the truth.

 

Slowly but surely she began to stalk her way through and among the crystals, since running pell-mell through the stalagmites was a certain way to slam unexpectedly into one of the glowing stones. Although she had to keep one eye on her prey to be prepared for an unexpected attack, she also flicked her eyes down to the ground occasionally to mark her progress…without the distraction of the endless reflections, and the dull, matte rock passing beneath her feet, she was easily able to note when an opening appeared, again guiding her through the circuitous course to freedom.

 

And of course a great deal of the reflections were so bent and splintered that they couldn't possibly be confused for the real thing. To judge from Tigress's images continuing to dance and shift about, she too was using similar methods to navigate the obstacle.

 

Of course this didn't mean neither of them made mistakes—more than once she heard a muffled curse as the leader of the Four stubbed a toe, barked her shins, or slammed her thigh into a projecting crystal, an act which produced a repetition of winces and gritted teeth in every one of her doppelgangers. And Chun herself was not immune, since she became careless on occasion, so focused on watching Tigress before the woman leaped unexpectedly at her that she failed to look where she was going and did bash into flat planes of crystal barring her path.

 

After the third such encounter, she finally came to a halt and lifted her fire wheels, menacing her adversary while she called out, her voice only echoing briefly before falling flat in the enclosed spaces. "I suppose you think this was a clever move on your part, Master Tigress. But were you planning to play childish dodging games all night, or were you going to quit being a coward and actually fight me?"

 

A scrape on the stone behind her made her abruptly whirl around, resulting in a rippling line of snow leopardesses all twisting and performing the exact same move—the endlessly receding mirror-effect making her feel a little dizzy. Across from her, whether in violet, blue, or green stone, she saw Tigress reflected…and although the woman had enough self-control to keep from growling openly, Chun could tell she was quite displeased by the taunts.

 

Yet she only approached slowly, inexorably, all ten, twenty, thirty of her, the Ninja Weapons aimed high and low and prepared to lash out like whips at a moment's notice. "Well, I _had_ been giving you a sporting chance to catch your breath," she replied casually. "But if you're _that_ eager to be trounced again, I suppose I'll have to oblige you." And she raised her sword again, the lower one aimed to slash across in a horizontal crescent, the upper a vertical.

 

Chun mirrored the pose with her fire wheels, beginning to back in a slow circle once more, closely eyeing each of the reflections for any telltale sign as to which was the real Tigress. She blinked several times to get the dazzling light out of her eyes…flexed and loosened her fingers on the handgrips as she heard her breath rasping in her ears, felt sweat trickle down her temple…

 

And then, as the leader of the Four smirked ever more cockily and began to leap toward her, every image barreling in at breakneck speed, she saw it: although Tigress had apparently been taking lessons in ambidexterity from Tai Lung, and was skilled at dual-wielding anyway, she still had a dominant hand, and that was the one she attacked with while the other defended.

 

Every single image coming at her had its left paw held high and its right held low—except one. And that was the one she flung her fire wheel at like a discus.

 

Tigress only had a moment of startled disbelief and fury before the spinning metal ring struck her paw, hard enough to numb it and at such an angle that the flames cut into her wrist. Crying out, she dropped the sword, and Chun moved in with her other fire wheel to take out the remaining blade…

 

But there was one final trick remaining for the other feline, as with impossible speed Tigress suddenly pushed off with one foot and leapt high into the air, disappearing into the shadows of the cavern—and in the process, removing every single image from the crystals. Inhaling sharply, Chun slid to a halt, fighting off her nervousness and unease as she quested about for where her quarry had gone…but although she knew the other woman would land eventually, and likely in the worst possible place, she was still caught by surprise when the powerful foot slammed down on the back of her neck from on high.

 

Before she could even blink, the Wu Sister was driven to her knees by the force of that blow, and then Tigress's other paw came down to smack the hilt of her _dao_ saber into the back of Chun's still armed paw. Her lone remaining fire wheel was flung from her grip, landing on the ground with a clatter and spinning off into the darkness, out of reach, but the snow leopardess was already collapsed on the cavern floor. Her vision swam in and out of focus, and she spat out gravel—as Tigress's foot had not only toppled her to her hands and knees, but actually crushed her face into the stone by pressing down firmly between her shoulder blades.

 

Woozily, she peered up through slitted green eyes at the woman who had defeated her, who even if she had technically cheated there at the end had still proven herself a better fighter and worthy of admiration. To her credit, Tigress was not gloating the way Xiu would have, merely gazing at her with intensity and determination as if waiting for another last-ditch effort to escape and pummel her into submission.

 

But even if she hadn't been about ready to pass out, Chun would have known the time had come to call it a draw and say Tigress had gotten even for the birch forest…because as she groggily turned her head to peer past the crystals and gauge the progress of the other battles, she almost had to think her half-conscious state was making her eyes play tricks on her.

 

Jia was supporting an injured Tai Lung, helping him cross the Vault toward the rest of the Jade Palace masters, quite clearly offering aid and showing no inclination whatsoever to fight them any longer. And Xiu lay prone on the cold stone, still and unmoving, a growing patch of brownish-red expanding beneath her as her blood indelibly stained the cavern floor.

 

Sighing heavily, she was uncertain how to feel—she would not say she loved Xiu, if she ever had, and seeing her insanity and cruelty taken out of the equation was more a release of a burden than anything else, but she was still her sister. Yet she was so battered and bruised from her fight with Tigress, so weary of combat, that she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it. Tigress had won fair and square, honor had been satisfied. And perhaps, finally, Jia would get to have the normal, happy life she'd always wanted for her violet-eyed sister.

 

It was over.

 

Lifting her gaze to the striped feline, she did not protest or struggle as she was hoisted off her feet, instead allowing herself to dangle from Tigress's grip as the woman turned and began carrying her toward the others. She only shrugged half-heartedly and held her paws up in an open-palm gesture.

 

"Fine, I surrender," Chun muttered in one last, flat monotone of disgusted resignation. "Just kill the bird."

                                                                      

* * *

 

High above where the other combatants were waging their various battles, another avian was very much hoping that he could do precisely that. Yet despite how he had taken his enemy by surprise, and the fact he was armed with the much larger and more deadly Ring Blades, Crane was discovering to his chagrin and worry that defeating Heian Chao, let alone slaying him, was a much taller order than he could ever have imagined.

 

That it had to be done was unquestionable. And even aside from the damage the _chi_ mage had wrought to the Valley and everyone in it for decades, perhaps even many centuries…Tai Lung's rampage, the many innocents killed by Vachir, Yi losing her beloved father, the attempts on Po's life, the awful injuries dealt to Master Shifu…not even taking this into account, the Li Dai master simply wished a little payback of his own for the taunts Chao had directed at him.

 

But it seemed he would need every ounce of his determination and simmering anger to stop the falcon…and even then, the odds were still significantly against him.

 

In the years since that battle in Yunnan province, Crane had forgotten just how heavy, awkward, and dangerous to wield Ring Blades were—not only were they rather large and top-heavy to begin with, but since the entirety of their outer rim was a cutting and slashing surface, he had to grip them lightly with his talons to keep from being severely sliced open. Even if his wings were more prehensile than they were, he needed them almost exclusively for flying…and the weapons themselves were also quite off-balancing.

 

Still, despite being out of practice with them, one thing Crane had always excelled at was remaining poised and undisturbed no matter how combat swirled around him—one of his most repetitive and dedicated exercises had always been training atop the Jade Tortoise of Wisdom in the kwoon, and that certainly paid off now.

 

Since it was so difficult to carry both Ring Blades in his talons, and as a crane he possessed incredibly strong wings to begin with, he chose to toss one upward, catching it in a spinning, gleaming circle atop his left wing, only letting out a soft grunt as he did so. After all, it weighed nothing compared to Tigress and the rest of the Five, when he'd carried them back from the Thread of Hope, or Tai Lung when he'd rescued him a few weeks later. There, holding it close to his body to more evenly distribute the weight, Crane flung himself in a wide arc at Heian Chao, the other Ring Blade still dangling from his talon, ready to block should the falcon bring his bracer to bear yet again.

 

He did, of course, diving straight toward his fellow avian with intensity and contemptuous hatred gleaming in those crimson eyes, but Crane simply pulled a spin in midair. This wasn't merely to show off—with the full force of its rib-crushing strength, he had flung his wing out to bat Chao aside. And although the mage used his wing in turn to cover himself, and thus received no damaging impact, the centrifugal force of his whirl also sent the Ring Blade sliding down his wing, and with it bent to keep the blade from falling off, the momentum simply drove the weapon with stunning force at Chao, its blade making a sharp, deadly whistle in the air.

 

Chao barely managed to dodge despite his greater dexterity and maneuverability. Yet as he swooped a cautious distance away, the wizard only chuckled. "Interesting," he murmured thoughtfully. And as the Li Dai graduate stared at him from where he flew in concentric spirals directly opposite and parallel to the falcon, Crane couldn't help but groan to himself. Despite appearances, that hadn't been a true attack at all, merely a quick test of his foe's capacities.

 

Yet once this knowledge sank in, the waterfowl narrowed his eyes and clamped his bill shut hard. _Fine. You want to know what I'm capable of? I guess I'd better give you a **real** demonstration…_

 

Without warning, Crane suddenly banked to the right, swinging across the empty vastness of the Vault's upper reaches in the direction of the nearest line of pillars, counting on the taunting manner of his departure and the temptation of his flying off all by himself without backup to keep Chao from resuming his attack run on Po. He was not mistaken, for in moments he heard the rustle of feathers, a hiss of slow, ragged breathing, and the sense of something large and dark surging through the air behind him.

 

Out of instinct, he twisted to the side, so that a rush of gleaming black _chi_ shot past his shoulder and splashed against a buttress, dissolving part of it and the stalactite beyond it—but he wasn't there anymore, having dodged around the next pillar in the line. Chao pursued him…at which point, Crane began leading him on a merry chase around the Vault.

 

Barely breathing hard, and only feeling a slow burn in his shoulder and chest muscles as he glided as fast as possible with the Ring Blades still weighing him down, he darted and wove among the columns…dodged behind and around stalactites…inverted and angled off in ways he could not have on the ground, folded his wings to abruptly drop like a stone only to suddenly unfurl them with a magnificent rush of wind caught in his guard feathers so that he sailed up and away again.

 

Just as the faster, more agile Chao caught up with him, he threw himself into a series of enormous loop-the-loops, one after another in endless succession—which incidentally made the Ring Blade on his wing spin ever faster, becoming a frighteningly deadly wheel whizzing and flashing as it warned the wizard away. This was interspersed with an increasingly dizzying pattern of corkscrew spins—and at random moments, when he reached the height of an arc or twisted close enough to his adversary, Crane suddenly swung out with the cutting edge of his weapons again and again.

 

Most of his strikes Chao succeeded in dodging, while others he blocked, but with grim fortitude he simply continued his hit-and-run tactics, slashing and slicing with wing or talon before sailing away into the gloom once more. And his determination paid off, as with more consistent regularity he began cutting and biting deeply into the Eagle Claw master's body—sides, chest, legs, wings, again and again, until his sharp eyesight could detect blood flowing freely even amongst his dark feathers.

 

Letting out a vile, snarling screech, Heian Chao practically clawed at the air to get out of range of his blades, only to swing about and unleash another flood of dark _chi_. This one Crane succeeded in evading by twisting in such a way that the churning maelstrom of shadow poured right through the circle of the Ring Blade he held up to let it pass. The same motion sent him flying backwards toward the nearest statue, that of the gorilla master…but this gave Crane another idea. _Tai Lung and Po both have learned to use their surroundings. Now it's my turn!_

 

Glancing over his shoulder to grin smugly at Chao, the waterfowl glided sideways, once more performing a corkscrew—this one around the gorilla's nunchaku. He followed this up by making a beeline right through the fire wheel held by the statue of the mountain cat, and then dodged between and among the more dangerous protrusions of the next statues in the line: Ninja Elephant's tusks, the _dao_ sabers of Master Dog, the horns of Iron Ox.

 

What he found, however, was that while the idea was excellent in theory, in practice it turned out to do more harm than good—for Chao was still smaller, more deft and lightweight, and found it far easier to bank, dive, and stoop than Crane could…so that it was the avian kung fu master who was more menaced by the statuary than his pursuer.

 

As soon as he understood this, the waterfowl whirled about abruptly, startling Chao by flying right up into his face—and without hesitation or doubt, his legendary battle confidence having returned to him and his mind lost in the humming, pulsing, almost meditative trance of battle, Crane attacked the wizard head-on. Suddenly confronted by one Ring Blade after the other, the falcon was forced to go on the defensive, catching the crescents on his claw bracer or slamming the weapon to a halt with the flat of his wing.

 

But Crane refused to desist, shifting the Ring Blades from feathers to talons and back again, sliding metal along metal to disengage before striking again, alternating relatively soft strikes with hard, fierce, quick blows with no discernible pattern. It was clear, the longer he stared into those vicious eyes, that Chao was becoming frustrated as one he had believed to be an easy target turned out to have much more ingenuity and outright determination than he'd thought. And that only made Crane smile all the more cockily.

 

Again and again, the two birds struggled back and forth through the air, from one side of the cavern to the other—clutching at one another, flipping and twirling about as if performing some macabre, demented dance…slashing and swinging their weapons about with impunity that on the surface seemed like wild flailing but was in truth carefully choreographed on both their parts.

 

Depending on the angles at which they came together, Crane continually twisted the Ring Blades…tossed one in the air to catch it and slash at Chao's back…hooked the other around a projecting stalactite or a portion of a statue to give him the leverage to vigorously rotate about in an entirely new direction. When he wasn't doing so through his flight, Chao did the same by digging his bracer into the dangling stonework.

 

Crane swung one wing to smash his adversary in the chest with crushing force—he heard bone crunch, saw the falcon double over and heard his hacking, rattling breaths. But then a wave of black _chi_ washed over the ancient master's body, healing his injuries completely, and immediately thereafter Chao thrust at him with a feathered grip that almost strangled the waterfowl. The Jade Palace master brought a Ring Blade up to bury itself in the crook of Chao's wing, making him scream and let go; the _chi_ wizard retaliated by blinding him briefly with a surge of _chi_ in his face, followed by a violent slash of the claw bracer that would have severed his wing in two if Crane hadn't dodged in time. Even then, he still received an extremely deep gash for his troubles.

 

The next blow was blocked as swiftly and effortlessly as if Twin Weasels themselves had wielded the blades; as Chao shoved him back across the Vault with a burst of _chi_ from his trailing cloak, sending him barreling toward the statue of the gigantic tiger, Crane slid the Ring Blades from one wing to the other, as rapidly as he could, somehow managing to block the claw bracer just in time at each instance—once when the blades were about to sever his jugular, another time when they came close to repeating the impalement Chao had inflicted upon Master Shifu. The end result was that Chao became more and more incensed as he was unable to land a hit, and the speed with which he flung Crane about only made the air rush past him in a howl.

 

Yet time and again he succeeded in avoiding crashing into solid rock at the last second—on one occasion, spinning away from the falcon by catching the upraised fingers of the tiger statue's paw with a Ring Blade, then flinging himself in the opposite direction above his closed fist.

 

Cursing almost as disgustingly as he had to Po what seemed a lifetime ago, Heian Chao at last seemed to try a new tactic, one which made little to no sense to Crane: as he continued to deflect, defend, and send his attacker careening away with one strike after another, the falcon continually cut down and across with his claw bracer—but never actually touching him, always breezing by the barest feather's-breadth from Crane's wings.

 

Frowning even as he never ceased blocking or evading, keeping away Chao's other wing and his talons as they too swung at him, the waterfowl tried to guess just what the wicked creature was planning with this seemingly pointless gambit—was he lulling him into a false sense of security? Misleading him with deliberate misses before he would suddenly slam in with a devastating hit? Some form of psychological torture, intended to make Crane crack and demand he quit toying with him and attack already? Or something more insidious, some dark _chi_ power he could not discern with the visible eye?

 

It came to him slowly but with undeniable truth as, gradually, an odd pain began to filter into his consciousness. A pain that started distant and detached but became increasingly agonizing and debilitating as time passed…a pain which was coming from the wings Chao continually slashed at but never seemed to touch. Narrowing his eyes as he ducked back behind the tiger's shoulder, Crane focused in on his wings—and gasped, both in disbelief and anguish.

 

The seemingly 'harmless' attacks, he now saw, had been slowly but surely…one by one…piece by piece…cutting off first the tips, then the entire lengths of his wing feathers! While he was distracted by the other, more fervent attacks, Heian Chao had been deliberately and cruelly stripping him of the ability to fly.

 

Furious as well as in real pain, Crane knew he too had to change tactics. Although it might have been cathartic, he could no longer afford a head-on attack. He had to return to the basics, to what his style was known for and he personally excelled at. Evasion. Defense. Deflection. But…creatively, with a twist…

 

Immediately wrenching clear of Chao—and, he saw with a pang of loss, stripping himself of several more feathers in the process that fell in a sodden, bloody clump toward the ground far below—the Li Dai master tossed the other Ring Blade onto his wing as well, tucked both of them in close to his body, and unexpectedly wheeled about to fly as fast as his wings would carry him…away from his enemy.

 

He heard the falcon make a startled scoff behind him, followed by that familiar and hated dark chuckle, before Chao raced after him—clearly believing what was before his eyes, that Crane was fleeing in fear, cowardice, or self-preservation, being driven from the field of battle. And that was precisely what he wanted the arrogant, self-important falcon to think.

 

Farther he flew, and closer to the nearest wall of the cavern, without hesitation or wariness or distress, as if he were so lost in headlong, terrified flight that he were unaware of just where he was going and at such a speed. He could hear Chao flapping and streaking along behind him, his breath rasping in eagerness and a hungry desire for conquest, his robes snapping and rustling in the silent darkness. He could see the abrupt demarcation of the vertical barrier rising before him, looming ever nearer in the cloaking shadows, marked only here and there by glittering clusters of crystal and gems extending from its otherwise rough-hewn surface. Closer…closer…it was less than fifty feet away now. Forty…twenty…ten…

 

He could never be as evasive as a falcon, something Chao surely knew. Something he was counting on. But while he could not dive and bank the way the mage could, he could deflect in other, unexpected ways…

 

At the last second, he flung his feet up, talons extended toward the rocky wall. Unable to prevent himself from colliding with the stone, he instead embraced it, and made use of it—pushing off with all his might and every ounce of strength in his legs, Crane flung himself back and up at an angle…and Chao, following closely behind him but given no time to react thanks to the sudden change in Crane's flight path, slammed with a satisfying and resounding crash right into the stone where the waterfowl had just been. _Hah! I guess those 'skinny little legs' aren't so useless after all…_

 

Yet by the time the wizard had recovered from this ignominious and humiliating loss of control, Crane was already thinking faster than he ever had before in his life. Chao was clever, perceptive, and possessed of great powers. But he was also overconfident, arrogant, and in the end extremely limited. He could not be creative and adaptive, think on his feet the way Crane and the rest of the Four could. He believed himself infallible, but he was not.

 

And the fact he had fallen for such an obvious ploy, had been so easily tricked, was heartening indeed. He needed to keep this up, to continue outthinking and outmaneuvering Chao, preferably in ways that would infuriate and mock him all the more—for the more enraged and frustrated the falcon became, the easier he would be to defeat.

 

It came to him in a flash, and even as the mage pried himself free of the wall, trailing feathers as he twisted about and came streaking toward his prey with renewed vigor, Crane was untying the strap which held his _dou li_ to his head—and as he flapped his wings in slow, expansive strokes to keep himself hovering in place, the kung fu master flung the conical hat unerringly in Chao's direction. Just as he'd expected, the Eagle Claw master didn't even bother to dodge, only sneering contemptuously at Crane. "Is that truly the best you can do? You disappoint me, Master Cra-aaaaaaaagghhh!"

 

This last scream was prompted by the striking of the _dou li_ into his body—for the hat had not truly been the harmless straw missile it had seemed, since he had secretly concealed one of the Ring Blades beneath its brim. The toss cost him a weapon, of course, since the force with which he'd thrown the blade had embedded it quiveringly in the wall behind Chao. But it was quite worth it, since as it passed by it sliced through the falcon's wing, nearly severing it completely, and also tore open his side quite deeply so that thick streams of blood…and what looked like some of his dark _chi_ …poured from the gaping wounds.

 

" _Damn_ you!" Chao snarled. "You think you are so clever…but you will pay for this…" And ignoring the injury and the pain it must have been causing him, he launched forward yet again.

 

There wasn't time to retrieve his weapon, and although its absent weight allowed him to move much more quickly, Crane was still not able to escape in time before his enemy slammed into him, driving him back to fling him into the statue of Grand Master Viper. Pressed into the gaping mouth between stone fangs, his freedom of movement extremely curtailed, the waterfowl could only twist and evade awkwardly as Chao tried to apply one joint lock and pressure point after another.

 

Thanks to his time at Li Dai with Mei Ling and the Wu Sisters, Crane luckily knew what each move looked like before he attempted it, and knew precisely how to avoid or blunt its force, but that didn't stop the falcon from occasionally getting a very good hit in—armlocks and leglocks, a powerful jab into the gap between his neck and ear that jerked his body upwards, and even an increasingly painful pressure on his pelvis that made his hips twist weirdly to the side, flaming in definite agony.

 

In the end, though, he evaded most of the moves…and when Chao tried going for his neck and had fixed his talons with astonishing, crushing strength on Crane's collarbone, the Li Dai graduate forced himself to stay calm and tune out the pain, instead reaching up with his unencumbered wing to apply pressure in turn to the _hegu_ point between Chao's two largest digits. Immediately, the sharp, fiery pain which lanced up the mage's leg and into his body became unbearable for him, to judge by how his beak ground together and his entire body shuddered—even the _chi_ flowing off of him faltered briefly—and his talon opened at once, letting Crane go.

 

Shoving the bleeding falcon back and off of him, the kung fu warrior pushed out of Grand Master Viper's mouth and flew as fast as his wings could carry him, away from the fight, to where he could find open space, shelter to dodge behind, more maneuverability…

 

Too late. For even as he was gliding across the cavern and cursing his body for being unable to put on more speed—it was all well and good rushing to Tai Lung's trial to save his life, but not when he was fighting an opponent who was much quicker and more adroit than he was—he suddenly heard a strangled, vicious scream behind him. And then his backside felt as if an elephant had stomped on it with every one of its thousand-plus pounds, even as he was hurled violently out-of-control in a tangle of wings and legs in another direction.

 

Before he could even catch his breath, Crane had been whirled about and sent flying backwards into the powerful chest of one of the Three Lions—and he both heard and felt the distinct sound of bone breaking as one of his wings was snapped in two. Yet he didn't have time to react, or do more than scream in intense pain, for he was still being pinned against the statue…but it was not by Chao himself or anything physical. Instead, an endless, churning, explosive blast of dark _chi_ was streaming at him from across the cavern, sent hurtling forth by the falcon's upraised and outthrust wings, one delivered out of pure, molten hatred and rage.

 

It did not cease, it would not let him go, grinding and crushing him into the solid stone even as it washed repeatedly over Crane's body, pouring down him toward the floor far below. It was like drowning in a mountain river, save there was no water—his throat still felt constricted, his chest compressed so that he could not breathe, his body aching as it was forcibly bent out of shape by the surge of pounding shadows. And he could feel himself weakening…growing steadily lethargic, enervated, his whole body drooping and quivering…becoming increasingly lightweight, washed out, and inchoate, as if it were in danger of fading out of existence.

 

Finally, just when he was on the verge of passing out, the blast of _chi_ subsided. Gasping, shaking, in fact trembling from head to foot, Crane felt himself start to slide off the lion-statue's chest, and just barely managed to dig his sole remaining Ring Blade into the stone to check his progress before he fell all the way to the ground far below. There, dangling from the weapon by one foot, the other unable to ward away an attack if it came, and one wing now useless so he could not fly to safety, he waited for his enemy to come and make the killing blow. Or, more likely, gloat first.

 

He wasn't disappointed, since Heian Chao soon appeared hovering in the air before him, a very self-satisfied and knowing smirk on his beak. Oddly, the falcon seemed to…shimmer strangely as he moved, leaving after-images behind him as if he were out of phase with reality or time, as if he didn't exist at all on the physical plane. Or perhaps that was just due to the dizziness and blurry vision Crane was suffering from after that impact. But he _was_ employing a great deal of _chi_ …

 

"You have much ingenuity, Master Crane. I must give credit where it is due. You gave me a much more difficult fight than I had anticipated…very resourceful, quite unique and innovative in your style. And I presume you learned how to break free of my hold at Li Dai…or from your paramour, Mei Ling has mastered Eagle Claw too, has she not?" Crane didn't bother to answer that, and didn't need to. "A miscalculation on my part, perhaps. But I have rectified it. And once I am through with you, I may just have to…reward her for all she has done to thwart me…"

 

Crane tried to muster up enough strength to resist him, or at least inject as much determination, fury, and power into his voice as possible while repudiating him…but he could barely stir, and he was afraid his voice was far too weak and raspy to be effectively menacing. "No…you…you stay away from her, Chao. I won't…let you do anything to harm her…" _And if I don't, she certainly will be feeding you her fist in two seconds flat_.

 

Unexpectedly, the wounded mage suddenly lunged at him, catching him in a very firm, and very debilitating, chokehold. As his feathers closed more and more tightly around the avian's throat with a strength that was both unnatural and surely mystical in origin, Chao sneered at him, his voice dropping to a sinister whisper. "I rather think, Master Crane…that you are in no position to dictate terms to me…"

 

Spots appeared before Crane's eyes…his vision began to flicker and go out entirely, shadows and heaviness weighing down upon him…he felt his breath rattle in his throat, his chest heave once and his entire body tremble anew…he tried to flail at Chao with his good wing, but it was like a flea trying to ward away a giant, the wing clutching him was inexorable and seemingly invulnerable, and would not let him go…

 

And then, just as he was certain he was about to die, or at least fall unconscious, something small, barely discernible to the eye, came flying through the air from out of nowhere. For a wild moment, he thought it was another of Mei Ling's silvery throwing stars, and while part of him was a bit annoyed he'd needed her to save him, the rest was just grateful to be saved.

 

But then, the hurtling object struck Chao's feathered fist, sending out a wave of shimmering _chi_ as it made the falcon release him—only to lift the wizard high above Crane's head, then toss him across the cavern to smash into one of the statues of Twin Weasels, displaying an astonishing level of strength (as well as sentience) no object or person could match…except…

 

He blinked…stared…shook his head (and instantly regretted it). It couldn't be; he must be seeing only what he wished to see. Or perhaps Chao had taken him farther across the threshold of death than he'd realized, and he was even now passing into the next world. Because there was no other way to explain what he was seeing, even as his vision gradually sharpened as he focused on his savior.

 

It was Mantis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More shout-outs to _Avatar: the Last Airbender_ in the dialogue again, and the fight between Jia and Mei might seem a bit familiar too—I refer you to _The Mummy Returns_. A _da huan dao_ , if anyone is confused, is a short staff with a scimitar blade on each end; and before anyone accuses me of stealing from Luna or making another shout-out (this time to "Present"), the Phoenix Eye is a legitimate move in Leopard Style, the pressure strike to the temple I've described. Couple that with the low stance and Tai having learned patience at last, all hallmarks of his style, and you should have an inkling where I'm going with this.


	42. A Friend Returned

 

 

Monkey sighed, low and shuddering, to himself as he looked up at last from his feverish, laborious work. He'd really only had the faintest idea what he was doing—the crash course in medicine he'd received from Crane had hardly been extensive, and it certainly hadn't covered wounds of the severity Shifu had suffered. He'd had the good fortune of being able to identify the pain-killing herbs as well as those which slowed and clotted blood flow, but while he'd been able to force them down the red panda's throat without choking him, he had no idea how much was enough to help without fatally overdosing him.

 

If only he hadn't been such a drunkard all those years ago, and had paid better attention to his sister Wen! Though no doctor, she had known so much more about medicine it was remarkable to him even now—after losing their parents at a young age, and having to take care of both her brothers, she'd been forced to learn herbal lore and medicinal remedies as a matter of course… It was too late now to bemoan the loss, however; he simply hoped he'd done right by his master. Cleaning the wounds had been easy in terms of knowledge, but difficult without fresh water—he'd been reduced to using bandages and strips of his vest.

 

As for stitching the wounds…he'd done the best he could with the instruments from Mantis's pouch, which he had carried with him ever since Chorh-Gom as a form of private penance. The jagged slashes where Chao had impaled the red panda were sealed closed as best as could be hoped for, and his chest still rose and fell albeit with extreme slowness and occasional, jerking shudders…but Shifu was so still, his face so ashen gray beneath the fur…

 

Biting his lip, the langur finally glanced toward the others to see how they were holding up. It turned out that while he was preoccupied, a number of things had happened—Wu Chun sat nearby, trussed up and made a prisoner by Tigress's belt, while Jia had apparently changed sides since she now stood with Tai Lung, Po, and Mei Ling, looking uncomfortable and understandably nervous (Viper was looking at the youngest sister with a very harsh, flat glare, and Tigress's was even more threatening and distrustful).

 

Tai Lung himself, it seemed, had been badly hurt in his fight with Xiu, but even as he looked the snow leopard's way, he was putting the last touches on the tight strips of his shirt which he'd used to wrap his horribly bleeding forearms, and Tigress had applied a new set of bandages to his side. Everyone else was no worse for wear, Xiu was dead, and Crane—

 

Glancing up, Monkey was just in time to see Heian Chao tossed across the cavern by one with impossible strength for his size, and he recognized the move just as the avian had, and as Chao himself seemed to. His jaw dropped. _No. No, it can't be! Well, maybe it not impossible, but…_

 

He hadn't seen Mantis's body land, of course, after the _chi_ wizard had made him drop the insect out the arrow slit. Nor had they found the body when they'd attempted to search the prison. But he had felt his friend's carapace crack, knew that there was no way the arthropod could have survived alone in the dark with the ichor that was his life-essence leaking away, his wounds untreated. He _knew_ Mantis had to be dead…so had the others. It was why Crane and Viper had been so determined to punish him despite him not being in his right mind at the time, had even come close to murdering him in retaliation. (And wouldn't Chao have loved _that_ , if they'd gone through with it?)

 

And this was in spite of the fact that Shifu, after bodily pulling the serpent and waterfowl off of Monkey, had delayed their descent after Tigress and Tai Lung to spend a good hour or two searching fruitlessly for their fallen friend. No, Mantis was gone, this must be a mass hallucination or more likely some cruel trickery of Chao's necromantic powers, and the sooner they accepted the truth and moved on, the better.

 

Except, just as stubbornly as he'd always been in life, Mantis seemed determined not to vanish, instead remaining quite visible and real as he perched on the Ring Blade and glared viciously in the falcon's direction. His stance, defensive but ready to launch into a blindingly fast attack at a moment's notice, was just as familiar. And when Heian Chao flew back to confront him, and the two began to speak, there was no mistaking that voice.

 

" ** _YOU!_** " Chao sounded demented and depraved even from this distance, and his flailing gestures and clawing at the air with his wings only added to the image of uncontrolled madness. " _How_ could you be—this is not—I saw you _die_! I made certain of it with Monkey's own paws!"

 

Mantis sneered. "Guess you never heard of my 'staying-still-for-a-really-long-time' technique, huh? That's what happens when you don't check the body before you get rid of it! You really think, once I figured out what you'd done to my friend, what you were up to, that I'd let you get away with it? You wanted me dead…so I figured the best thing to do was play along, make you think I was out of the picture. Then I could sneak back here without you even knowing it. And it looks like I showed up just in time." He nodded decisively, feelers twitching violently.

 

Slowly, the truth began to sink in, and Monkey felt tears welling up in his eyes while his hands clenched and unclenched vigorously. On some level, he knew he should be angry at Mantis for letting them all believe him dead…for letting the langur believe he had killed him. But all he could think was: _He's alive. Praise the Son of Heaven, he's alive! My best friend…and I'm not a murderer…_

 

The Eagle Claw master, meanwhile, seemed on the verge of exploding literally in a fountain of torrential _chi_ , and his feathered form did indeed swell, its aura and silhouette growing ever darker, larger, and smoky, as if unseen demonic fires were being stoked within. As he began to rise higher above them, toward the roof of the Vault of Heroes, Chao's eyes flashed hatefully, his voice losing its sedate, calm rumble…instead becoming rougher, harsher, more and more bird-like in its screeches.

 

"And what….precisely…do you think you can _possibly_ do to stop me, _insect_?" The last word was as insulting and demeaning as he could make it. Monkey bristled inwardly, clenching his hand around the Iron Fist which he had removed for the duration of the emergency healing. "You may have age and skill on your side, and you may be a master of _chi_ …but you cannot stand against me, none of you! I _will_ be victorious, my servants will extend my will across all the empire…and you, pusillanimous creature, will be _crushed_ beneath my talons!"

 

Off to the side, Monkey noticed Po was visibly trembling, and neither Tigress nor Viper seemed very sanguine either. Even Tai Lung was swallowing hard, his expression bleak. Indeed, Shifu had thrown all he could against Chao and it had amounted to nothing. How could they, even acting in concert, bring him down when his _chi_ was so incredibly powerful, and he could survive anything they threw at him? In fact, even as he watched, the simian could see the grievous injuries Crane had dealt Chao closing up and healing beneath the rippling waves of dark _chi_ , leaving not a mark on him.

 

Yet Mantis didn't seem to let it perturb him; in fact he only snorted and shook his head. And with him among the living again, anything seemed possible now. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before. We all gotta bow and scrape before you, you're the Ultimate Evil that we can't get rid of because there'll always be darkness in mortal hearts, yadda yadda, can we go home now? 'Cause I got a nice teriyaki rice on the oven and an opium pipe I _really_ could use about now."

 

"You _DARE_ mock me—!"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." The insect met him eye to eye, glare for glare, and Monkey couldn't help but cheer inwardly. He'd always known Mantis had iron for blood and a will of stone, but this… "And you know why? Because you think you're all that, and you're not. Sure, you've got a lot of kung fu knowledge. You know how to use people's desires against them. You can inflame vices, twist good intentions into wicked ones, and you've got more than enough _chi_ to make someone like Tai Lung serve you. Hell, if you had enough you could make puppets of everyone in China."

 

He paused significantly. "But guess what? _That's all you are!_ You're just a shadow with no real power. All it takes is enough people realizing that, and you can't do a damn thing. Anyone with half a brain and a strong heart is going to resist you. And then you'll be left with nothing but empty lies and a hollow soul—if you've even still got one of those. You can't even do anything without those servants to do it for you."

 

He glanced aside toward the others, where Jia stood alongside the Jade Palace masters and Chun was held captive, then to the spot where Xiu lay still and unmoving facedown in her expanding pool of blood. "And just for the record, I don't think you've got any servants anymore. Just so you know."

 

Chao followed Mantis's gaze. His eyes widened as he took in the state of each of the Wu Sisters, his anger becoming all the more molten and roiling with hatred—but it seemed to be seeing Xiu, his best and most loyal minion, lying dead and Jia, the one he had deemed of no consequence or threat to him, having defected that truly set him off. " _What?_ You…you would desert me…you, who have no real power, who have always been nothing but a pawn of others…weak, worthless, shallow…how could a sluttish bitch like you _ever_ dare to turn on me…"

 

Glancing aside at the violet-eyed snow leopardess, Monkey wasn't sure how to feel when he saw Jia visibly swaying before this onslaught of disparaging insults—but when she suddenly seemed to gather some well of strength and stood up straight and true, glaring fiercely at the falcon, somehow he found himself cheering her on, too. Whatever her half-sister had said to her, it seemed to have completely turned the assassin around—in outlook, in morality, in simple determination and purpose—and now the one who had always seemed the most ridiculous and least dangerous of the Sisters was throwing her defiance back in Chao's face…rejecting him in a way no one could ever have predicted.

 

"Easy," Jia snapped brazenly. "I woke up. You're bad news, Chao. I've known that for a long time, I was just too scared and alone to do anything about it." She glanced sideways at Mei Ling, nodded decisively, and then looked back with her chin thrust high. "But I'm not alone anymore. And as for being afraid…so what? Doesn't mean I can't still do the right thing here, and stop you. Isn't that what it means to be courageous?"

 

For a long moment, silence fell over the Vault of Heroes—a name which Monkey privately found even more appropriate now. Then, slowly, Chao began to descend once more…his fury turning now to cold cruelty. "Is that so?" His voice was deceptively soft and undeniably bitter. "If that is how you truly feel…well then, I seem to recall a certain gift you wished from me. Eternal youth and beauty, was it not?" Jia froze in place, mouth parted and eyes large and protruding with fright—she seemed to realize what the mage meant before anyone else.

 

"Yes…in that case, since you have left my service…I rather think it behooves me to exact that same price. It is only fitting, after all…" And instantly, before anyone could move or do anything to intervene, another blast of inky, gleaming _chi_ came exploding forth from his wings as if a river of the heavens had been unleashed—aimed unerringly at Jia, washing over her in seconds.

 

Like everyone else, Monkey gasped (though no one as strongly as Mei Ling): for as soon as the black mist poured and writhed over the snow leopardess, she let out a terrible scream and stiffened, every limb gyrating and every muscle spasming as if she were having a seizure. An odd glow became visible around her, a faintly luminescent gold that could only be her own _chi_ —and as they watched, horrified, it began to flicker, sputter, and die out.

 

With every moment that passed, with every bit of life-force being siphoned out of her, Jia was…withering. There was no other way to describe it. Her muscles were atrophying, her bones becoming more angular and prominent, her pelt thinning and turning pale, her paws shriveling, her eyes sunken in their sockets. She was well on her way toward becoming a very aged snow leopardess.

 

And if Chao kept up his spell…?

 

The simian began to move in the Wu Sister's direction—uncertain what he'd do or how he might be able to help but thinking he had to try something. Jia had helped get rid of her most twisted sibling, had come to the side of goodness and honor and was willing to stand with them against Chao, and this was the thanks she got?

 

But before Monkey could do anything, perhaps offer himself as a sacrifice to take her place, Mei Ling was suddenly there—having ducked down to sweep something off the floor and thrust it fiercely to the side to jab into the former assassin's heart. Oogway's staff.

 

Once again, the result was immediate: the aura of Jia's _chi_ , which had been on the verge of guttering out entirely, suddenly flamed brighter, stronger, and more unwavering. The palsied trembling of the snow leopardess's body stilled, and abruptly she was rising up from the humped, misshapen posture of a decrepit old woman and back to her previous determined, youthful shape. In fact the age was melting away, years being returned to her life in seconds until she once again was her cute and winsome self—albeit looking more terrified, yet also more filled with loathing, than Monkey could have thought possible.

 

The peach wood stick had also, of course, severed the flow of black _chi_ responsible for this deadly punishment, providing a shield around Jia that kept the falcon's essence from touching her. Yet that didn't stop Chao from responding—in fact it seemed to inspire ever greater wrath from him. Higher, higher, he began to rise above them, levitating it seemed by use of his own power rather than through the flapping of wings. As the primate stared up at him, the mage's silhouette seemed to expand…his wings were flung wide, yet as he watched they grew broader, far more massive, able to encompass the whole cavern—or was that only in his mind?

 

A roiling column of vile ebony fog seethed and boiled beneath Chao as he loomed above them, even billowing upward to completely surround his form…and then from out of this ominous cloud, two fiery eyes were suddenly visible above the dagger-sharp curve of his raptor's beak, blazing ever brighter, ruddier…Monkey swore he could see literal fires and prominences swirling and bursting within them, as if a constant storm raged in their hearts and was only now rising to the surface to engulf them all.

 

"You foolish…insignificant…pathetic **_mortals_**! You truly have _no_ inkling of what it is you face, do you? You think yourselves greater, stronger…simply because you outnumber me, possess blessed weapons, and are on the side of 'goodness' and 'justice'? You are sadly mistaken…" Heian Chao leaned toward them, and Monkey was not the only one who stepped back a pace—or ten. A cruel smirk twisted his beak, and then he lifted it haughtily as his voice boomed deeper and louder than ever before. "Allow me, then, to give you a _true_ taste of my full power…"

 

Again, those wings unfurled as if to embrace the entire world, sending shadows racing out across the chamber so black and impenetrable they smothered even the light of the glowing crystals…leaving them in darkness save for the glow of Oogway's staff and the Sword of Heroes still in Jia's paw. Again, the falcon sailed heavenward, soaring atop his pillar of burgeoning _chi_ , constantly radiating and pouring forth the corruptive influence of his soul until it seemed he would drown them all in its endless waves.

 

And then, when it seemed Chao could become no more terrifying, his eyes burst forth with such hellish fire that it seemed a volcano in the form of a bird hovered above them; Monkey was privately surprised magma did not explode from his parted beak. What did emerge was a soulless shriek, followed by words in an indecipherable tongue that yet sounded utterly repulsive and evil to the core, all spoken by what seemed multiple voices echoing and blending together into a discordant, demonic chorus.

 

As the last syllable echoed off the buttresses, the dark _chi_ churning from his tail feathers suddenly smoothed out, forming a vast curtain extending from floor to roof—and then the air around it shimmered before abruptly rending in two. Why, he didn't know, but Monkey clutched at his heart, for it seemed something very precious had been torn, that something terribly wrong had just disturbed the spiritual balance of this place…

 

On the other side of the shimmering darkness, a vast hole had opened in mid-air, between the statues of the hooded goose monk and the looping dragon, a tear in reality that had edges of pulsing crimson—like a gaping wound. Then…with bestial roars and snarls, with unearthly howls and shrill ululations, with repugnant curses and condemnations they came…wave after wave, line after line of the awful creatures crossed over into the mortal realm.

 

Although he had luckily never seen any in life, there was no mistaking the horned heads, hands with claws longer than sickles, fleshless faces that belonged to no living thing imaginable, eyes and mouths that did indeed blaze with endless flame. The muscular, hirsute, black-fleshed bodies were, like all the rest, just as the headman of Yunxian had described…whether these were more of the same ilk or that original twenty-year-gone horde now released from its imprisonment, they were clearly _yaoguai_ , fire demons of WuShon.

 

A cauldron of disgusting bodies, apparently endless in number as it poured out of the doorway until it seemed there were enough to flood the Vault entirely and even overflow it to fill the Valley above, spreading vastly across the land. Creatures from another world, another plane of existence—none of them recognizable as anything remotely benign or unthreatening. Here and there a feature would stand out—a lion's mane, a wolven muzzle, the wings of an eagle, the scaled hide of a crocodile—but this only served to accent how alien and frightening the rest of the monstrous beasts were.

 

Hooves, horns, claws and fangs proliferated far more than any animal could require, seeming to sprout simply for the purpose of inflicting the most wicked and dire of pain imaginable. Eyes blazed with a furor of hatred, mouths drooled steaming, fiery saliva, and fur smoked and smoldered while dripping lurid crimson blood that seemed to have no source, an endless wellspring of life-essence. Some crawled, some hunched, some loped. Some dashed with frightening speed. Some burrowed and some flew. Every form seemed a product of a fever-dream, and every twisted doppelganger of life seemed hell-bent on destroying all in its path, only to seek more to crush, to devour, to feed upon for unholy life.

 

Yet somehow, while most of the Jade Palace masters stood transfixed by this horrific sight, three were unfazed or at least galvanized into action. Even as the demons surged forth to confront the kung fu warriors, Mei Ling was using Oogway's staff to vault up onto the knee of the lion-statue, and from there up to his halberd, racing along its length until she could leap again to the feline's bulging biceps, then at last to his chest—where she carefully, almost tenderly, disengaged Crane from the Ring Blade to which he'd been clinging with a death-grip.

 

Cradling him to her protectively, she again vaulted out into space, springing off of pillars, stalactites, and crystal formations until she landed safely on the ground among the others. Setting the avian down beside Master Shifu and Wu Chun, the mountain cat smirked, even as she leaned in to plant a kiss on Crane's cheek. "Some first date, eh?" The waterfowl blinked back at her through bleary, watering eyes, managing a weak smile before he slumped against Takin's hoof, his useless wing crumpled and dangling.

 

But nothing could be done about that at the moment as there were much more pressing matters. And as the _yaoguai_ continued racing with indefatigable strength and unwavering purpose toward them, Po suddenly gasped and lurched forward, striking a defiant pose between and slightly in front of the other masters. Twisting about, he looked from one kung fu warrior to the next with a look on his face that was at once wildly exultant and clearly fearful.

 

"Th-this…this is absolutely incredible, guys! Don't you get it, don't you see? _This is it, this is my dream!_ It's why I kept havin' it for so long, the gods were tryin' t' tell me or somethin'. It was a prophecy, we were meant t' be here, t' do this!"

 

Needless to say, everyone exchanged very long, skeptical, uncertain looks at this; Monkey didn't know how the others felt, but he was quite familiar with how deeply the panda hero-worshiped the Furious Four (no…it was the Five again, the _Five!_ ). And while it was gratifying, even heartwarming at times to see how deeply the Dragon Warrior believed in them, believed them capable of anything, the simian knew they had their limits. Against odds like this, and creatures of such a spiritual, metaphysical nature? Why, they'd need…

 

Almost as if the insect were reading his mind, Mantis suddenly appeared, having perched on Mei Ling's shoulder for the ride down and now hopping up onto a boulder near the hoof of Jin Hu. "I was afraid something like this might happen."

 

"What?" Tigress whipped her head to look around at him. "How could you—what do you mean—?"

 

"Hey, the minute I knew this guy could play with zombies, I knew he had to be dipping his feathers into everything dark and underworld-ly. He's drawing on everything mystical we can think of, he was bound to start using the _yaoguai_. With powers like Po's, and what we've got in Master Oogway's staff and the Sacred Pool? That kind of holiness would be like a magnet to those things." Mantis paused, then grinned knowingly. "Which just means, we've gotta fight fire with fire."

 

Even as everyone stared at him in puzzlement, the insect leaned over to fetch something which had been concealed in the cleft of the bull's hoof. "Thought we might need this, so I brought it along. Just in case."

 

It was the Urn of Whispering Warriors.

 

Silence settled over them briefly, other than the keening, deafening cries of the _yaoguai_ as they drew closer still, more than halfway across the vast chamber. Then Viper slithered up onto the rock, beaming. "Mantis, I could _kiss_ you!"

 

The insect blinked, then began to sidle slowly away. "Uh…I know I've been away a while, and I _like_ you just fine, but…" Everyone laughed—Monkey didn't know how the others felt, but his was at least tinged with mild hysteria, for despite this ace in the hole Mantis had produced, he was still rather terrified at what they were all about to face. Not that he still didn't have every intention of seeing this through to the end…

 

Jia, meanwhile, was looking at the urn, completely awestruck—but also in slight disapproval. "You mean—you're just going to…call them? Isn't that a little disrespectful, Master Mantis? They're not, like, at our beck and call or anything…"

 

"No, he's absolutely right." This came from Tai Lung, who had shouldered his way between everyone else, still clutching his bandaged side but otherwise looking as determined and resolute as ever. "The Warriors of Tenshu were gathered for just such battles as this. To fight against hopeless odds. To stand against unwavering evil. And to protect the helpless and the defenseless."

 

Jutting his chin out pugnaciously, as if daring them all to refute his words, the snow leopard clenched his fists, heedless of the clotting blood there. "What better way to bring these monsters down, I say! They only need someone to lead them…" He smiled slowly, proudly. "All of us."

 

If there had been more time, some of them might have argued, but with the demons literally at the gates, the people of the Valley at stake, and no other options available, they really didn't have any choice. So Monkey stepped forward at once to slap a hand on Tai Lung's arm in one of the few unwounded patches of rosette-covered fur. "When you get things right, cat, you really hit the nail on the head, you know? I'm with you."

 

One after another, each of the others swiftly agreed, the last being Tigress, who paused only to peer intently at Mantis. "Fine, but when this is all over, you have a lot of explaining to do…" She flicked her eyes aside to Jia. "And I'll still be watching you _very_ closely, you can be sure…"

 

With these ominous words, the kung fu warriors arrayed themselves in a V-shaped formation with Tigress and Tai Lung at the point, each of them drawing their weapons and preparing once more for combat—this one more epic, horrific, and overwhelming than any they had ever fought. Sai and _da huan dao_ from the two remaining members of the Wu Clan…tattooed coils flexed and tensed as they hoisted the Invisible Trident, Monkey's Iron Fist brandished high…twin sabers flashed as Tigress brought them to bear, the gleaming red and gold of a dragon-marked lance aimed bold and true in a snow leopard's paws…

 

Mantis was holding the Urn of Whispering Warriors at his side, murmuring and chanting an endless litany into its open mouth—a prayer, a summoning spell, a simple 'hey guys, we could use a little help here!' appeal, it could have been any of these. Finally, just as the _yaoguai_ were almost upon them, the insect hopped up onto the cloak of the nearest Twin Weasel, scaling it higher and higher until he stood on a back-thrust elbow. There he whistled to draw Heian Chao's attention from where he'd been overlooking the portal, gloating over his incipient victory.

 

"Hey, birdbrain!" The falcon whirled about, snarling and screeching. "Yeah, I'm talkin' to you. Lookee what I've got…" He rattled the Urn suggestively. "I've brought _company!_ "

 

The mage realized, too late, what Mantis was carrying. He thrust out a wing to send a surge of _chi_ in the kung fu master's direction, but the insect was already chanting into the urn in a surprisingly stentorian, resonant voice: " _Zhànzhù jiāndìng, xiōngdì, zhànzhù jiāndìng!_ "

 

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, softly at first, a breeze began to blow, one which seemed to have no source—except from _inside_ the urn. As it picked up, becoming a strong wind and then a rushing gale, it brought with it a pale blue, silvery light which swirled and danced in a shimmering mist. The strange fog roiled and built in ever-more impressive cloud formations, filling the bowl of the Vault of Heroes like a tempestuous sea, surrounding the plinths of the pillars, the feet of the statues, and eventually the approaching demons as well.

 

As if to underscore the true power and nobility now pouring forth from the urn, the _yaoguai_ actually slowed to a halt, pausing and lifting their heads to sniff the air…peer warily about them…and shuffle nervously closer to one another for protection. It was then that the whispering wind began to carry voices, repeating the same words as Mantis but with increasing loudness, vigor, excitement, and exultation: " _Hold fast, brothers…hold fast…HOLD FAST!_ "

 

Gorillas, oxen, crocodiles…tigers, wolves, bulls…lions, rhinoceroses, bears…by twos and fours, then tens and twenties they came. Forming out of the mist, appearing in one rank and file after another, concentric rings fanning out from the gathered demons in a glowing nimbus of nobility, honor, and courage…clad in tunics and armor of ancient but glorious design, bearing every manner of weaponry imaginable, expressions ranging from exalted and martyred to burning with righteous rage…the Warriors of Tenshu came. And as they did, the demons shuddered almost as one, while high above Heian Chao let out another ear-piercing screech.

 

" _Yes!_ " Mei Ling cried, clenching one fist in the air and jerking it down to her chest. "You were right, we _are_ going to do this!"

 

Beside her, however, Viper looked wary. "Um…maybe it's just me, though, but shouldn't we do something about that portal? It's all well and good to have legendary warrior-spirits fighting alongside us, but I don't think it'll help us much if those things keep…spawning." She shuddered.

 

"Already on it," Mantis crowed, secreting the urn back where he'd hidden it for safekeeping. "All we need is someone strong enough to hold the gateway shut—that'd be me—and someone else to seal it with a mystical weapon."

 

"Will this do?" Jia cut in, grinning as she held up the knife blade of the Sword of Heroes.

 

Monkey grinned back even as he snatched it from her. "Sure will. And _I'll_ be the one to do that. I ain't lettin' no more evil into the Valley, no way, no how! Just gotta get over there first. But I think I got a plan to open a path." And as he thrust the knife through his belt, he tugged out another weapon he'd been carrying around for some time now, waiting for just the right occasion—the nunchaku from Oogway's chamber.

 

Tai Lung, meanwhile, was eyeing Mantis in some bemusement and suspicion. "Just how d'you know to do all this anyway, twiggy? Knowledge of _chi_ is one thing, this is far more powerful ammunition you're calling on. Did getting hit in the head bring you enlightenment?"

 

"You could say that," the insect mused. "Or you could say you're not the only one who's had a chat with a crazy old turtle." Even as the snow leopard (and everyone else) was staring at him in amazement, Mantis turned back to face the _yaoguai_ , who despite the appearance of what must be mortal (or immortal?) enemies to them had begun to stir once again, shrieking and spitting and howling for blood.

 

He gestured quickly from one side to the other, giving orders as if he'd been a general for years. "Mei, Jia, you two seemed to be making a pretty good team, why don't you take the left flank?" The sisters nodded, smirking. "Viper, you take the right…Tigress, you go right down the middle. I know you love that." The striped feline nodded, a grim but vindictive smile on her muzzle. "Tai Lung, you—"

 

The snow leopard let out a wicked snarl of his own and twirled the Golden Spear before stalking forward, out of the line, aimed straight toward the falcon who still hovered high overhead. "Don't worry, I already know what to do. Heian Chao is _mine_."

 

"No, actually I was going to say you should go down the center with Tigress too. That spear of yours is the only other weapon that'll hurt the _yaoguai_."

 

"But…but…" Tai Lung looked rather like a cub who'd had his favorite toy taken away from him, and Monkey couldn't blame him; even knowing Mantis was alive, the langur _still_ wanted to get a piece of the wizard for that horrible possession and what Chao had made him do.

 

"No! Someone has to…we _can't_ let Chao get away with—" He broke off again, looking around in bewilderment as if suddenly noticing something amiss. "Wait a minute. Where's Po?"

 

Monkey whirled about—and as soon as he saw the black-and-white, armor-clad form of the panda making a beeline across the cavern, barreling around the edge of the demon horde but clearly prepared to bull rush his way through if he had to, the simian groaned aloud and slapped his forehead, hard.

_Oh, crap!_

                                                                      

* * *

 

Po knew he'd made a foolish move, of course. Even taking into account how much kung fu he had learned and mastered, his new development of _chi_ techniques, and the armor of Master Flying Rhino which offered him extreme protection, there was no possible way he was on a level to take on a kung fu and _chi_ master of Heian Chao's caliber, let alone all by himself. Even if the falcon weren't able to absorb, commandeer for his own, or otherwise deflect his _chi_ attacks, there was no telling what other dirty, cheating tricks this villain could still possess he didn't know about.

 

And while as the Dragon Warrior he had a great deal of power and abilities himself, he was a little afraid to completely let himself go—that if he did so, he might prove to be too much like his father, as he had on Wu Dan, and thereby become unworthy of the scroll and its awesome powers. At the very least, letting bloodlust control him would make him too much like Tai Lung, too susceptible to Chao's influence or simply easily distracted and caught off guard.

 

Yet he also couldn't help launching into the fray like this. Everyone else had a role to play in the upcoming battle, save for him. He wasn't exactly general material, nor did he feel confident leading troops as wondrous, brave, and sacred as the Warriors of Tenshu (and he doubted they'd _want_ to follow him, after how he broke the Urn...); he didn't know anything about whatever mystical mumbo-jumbo Mantis and Monkey were talking about to be able to assist them; and the Wu Sisters were now out of the picture.

 

All that was left for him to do _was_ take on Heian Chao. Despite everything, even despite his dream of fighting ten thousand demons alongside the Furious Five, he felt that facing the _chi_ master was what he was destined to do—that as a true hero like the Dragon Warrior, it was only natural he should be the one to bring down such monstrous evil.

 

And there was always the slightest chance that Chao did not know about his _chi_ , would be taken by surprise by it. After all, it had been his _chi_ which had cleansed the Pool of Sacred Tears, which the falcon had seemed unable to sense—maybe he was stronger than he thought he was. If he could overcome so much taint and poison like that, maybe he could overcome Chao himself, too. He had to give it a try…for Zhuang's sake, for little Yi's, for all those innocents Vachir had been made to slaughter, for Master Shifu. And for Tai Lung, too.

 

So he raced onward toward his goal with more unwavering purpose, determination, and simple plain stubbornness than he had in anything since Shifu's first training on Wu Dan. Now and then he glanced back behind him to catch glimpses of the other warriors as they entered into pitched, furious combat… Mei Ling and Wu Jia, the sisters united at last, back-to-back as they applied their three weapons in perfect dual-wielded sync to slash, cut, and stab at the monstrosities attacking them.

 

Tigress, whirling and darting about so lightly on her feet it was as if she were a blossom on the breeze, both of her swords lashing out to slice open stomachs and thighs, even decapitating one demon after another, accompanied by bursts of darkness and flame each time a body was breached in one manner or another. Viper, slithering like a jade lightning bolt across the cavern floor to wriggle around a demon's hooves, tripping it up to fall directly on her trident—only to wrench it free and swing it about to slash upward in a huge vertical crescent, completely cleaving another _yaoguai_ 's torso open from throat to navel.

 

Tai Lung laying about him with the Golden Spear as he rushed desperately after Po, surely attempting to stop the panda from his suicidal mission (or else wanting to take out Chao himself)—the holy artifact impaling one foul creature after another, blazing with its inner fire and consuming the demons utterly into crumbled bone and ash. Several times he seemed to take great pleasure in leaning back to brace himself so he could thrust up powerfully, hoisting his enemies off the ground to dangle on the spear, writhing and shrieking in agony until they too exploded in flame and bursts of mystical energy…

 

Monkey wading hip-deep through the swarming ranks of _yaoguai_ , his nunchaku gyrating and whizzing on their chain as the solid wood struck one enemy after another in the face, the throat, the gut—and when the demons pressed in too close for such long-distance fighting, the simian gripped the flail close in one hand so the other, bearing the Iron Fist, could strike out to punch hard enough to smash jaws and break off horns as his attackers were hurled back ten or twenty feet to bowl over their companions.

 

And Mantis, as usual a blur of motion in the air so that he seemed practically invisible—leaping and springing across the floor, hopping up from boulders to crystals to stone projections on the various statues, stabbing out with unerring accuracy to crush throats, cave sneering faces in, even send demons reeling back so their claws and fangs fell on their allies instead of their enemies.

 

Po shook his head in amazed disbelief. _Mantis…alive. Who woulda thought, or hoped, huh?_ Not that he wasn't grateful, of course! In fact just seeing the irascible old healer alive and well brought tears to his eyes. He did wonder, though, just how it was the insect had survived, not to mention how he'd gotten back to the Valley and why it had taken him so long, but he supposed there'd be time enough for such explanations later and that Mantis would give them when he was good and ready. Until then…he had a job to do.

 

Setting his jaw with grim fury, the panda slammed down the visor of his helmet, balled his free fist, and put on another burst of speed, trying his best to pace himself—he was in much better shape now than three months ago, but he could still overtax himself and end up collapsing and heaving out of breath if he wasn't careful. Again and again he sprang, twisted, and leaped—bounding over the heads of one rank of _yaoguai_ , blocking the descending claws of what resembled a ravening wolf with the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass so that it _clanged_ like a great bell in the cavernous Vault, even doing a series of handsprings, backflips, and roundhouses that brought his armored arms and legs about to smash into his adversaries and sweep them off their feet…when he didn't outright punch their lights out.

 

When he was finally only a few feet from his goal, and only had the vertical distance to ascend before he could reach Heian Chao, he paused momentarily and peered up at the hovering, seething falcon with his vastly spread wings and towering, trailing aura of misty black and blazing red. If this were the same as his battle with Tai Lung, he would even now be imagining the wizard to be a gigantic almond cookie, or perhaps a glazed bean bun.

 

But he had changed much in the last three months, and he didn't need such inspiration. Not anymore. Instead, he merely narrowed his green eyes, fixed all his thoughts on Chao as exactly what he was—a loathsome disease to be eradicated so the Valley and its people could be safe…and that was all he needed to propel him upwards, vaulting from a boulder, to the flaring robes of the goose monk, from there flipping across to the scaled coils of the dragon master, and then ascending them ever higher into the stalactite-encrusted heights of the cavern.

 

When he was within hailing distance of the hovering avian, the panda slid to a halt and struck the most menacing and threatening pose he could muster—and considering it was an almost exact mirror of Tai Lung's signature stance, while the battle-scarred armor he wore and the gleaming surface of his sacred shield were both quite impressive, that was actually an awesome pose indeed. "All right, it's about time this came down t' you an' me, Chao! You've tried t' have me killed, ya came after me just now, ya wanted me so badly? Well here I am, ready or not! One Dragon Warrior, ready an' willin' t' pound you into next festival-day!"

 

Slowly, very slowly, Heian Chao swiveled about, first his head and then his entire body rotating in mid-air. In spite of himself, in spite of all his resolve, Po quailed inwardly as he saw those lurid crimson eyes of magma and brimstone resting upon him. It was worse than anything out of his nightmares; it was real. "I see. Very well then, I shall give you the death you deserve; you seem to seek it so avidly. And I cannot resist claiming the _chi_ of others when they wander so willingly, and foolishly, into my domain…"

 

Flinging his wings wide again, the falcon sent another torrent of roaring, rushing, shimmering black _chi_ straight at him—sent on the back of a keening, wailing wind that, in chilling confirmation of something he'd wondered about off and on for the last few months, was nearly identical to the one which the others had described as toppling Tai Lung from the Thread of Hope.

 

Cool as a cucumber, however, Po simply planted his feet solidly, bent forward on one knee, and ducked behind the golden shield. Not only did the wind and _chi_ divide neatly around the defensive barrier, spurting and shooting harmlessly past him on either side, but his own _chi_ sprang up to add to the shelter, forming a curving golden crescent that only seemed to absorb what was flung at it and grow larger, thicker, stronger. When the panda dared peek out from behind the shield, he saw that Chao did not seem surprised—but he did look extraordinarily furious.

 

Allowing his mystical attack to dissipate, he wheeled about in a magnificent, stiff-winged glide, circling above Po in an even more vulture-like manner while glaring beadily down at him for all the world as if he did indeed intend to swoop down and sever his enemy's jugular—or peck his eyes out and swallow them whole. "Impressive. Even augmented by the Dragon Scroll, your _chi_ is still quite impressive. Were it not for Tai Lung offering me so much more, and being so much better suited to my future empire, I might have selected you to bear my standard."

 

The Dragon Warrior sneered, scoffing under his breath as he rose back to an upright position but still kept his shield warily at the ready. "Not interested."

 

"I know," Heian Chao replied self-deprecatingly. "Forgive me if I do not greatly mourn the loss. But do not think your power will avail you!" Without warning, he flung himself into a spiraling nosedive, his jagged beak descending wickedly toward Po's throat, the wind of his passage shoving the panda back along the dragon's coils until he almost fetched up against the maned, horned head.

 

Po proved how limber and fast-paced he had become, however, by twisting agilely to the side, the falcon rushing past him and missing by mere inches, only prevented from slamming beak-first into the stone by an evasive corkscrew of his own. Even as he arced away, Chao swung his tail in the same motion—and thanks to his swollen, more gigantic size, the wizard actually struck Po in the face as he went, knocking him backwards. The panda grabbed onto the dragon's projecting mane, halting his fall, then backflipped up and over to land ducked behind the shield once again.

 

Once more Chao came for him, this time with his claw bracer extended, but the Dragon Warrior caught the attack on his shield, then grabbed hold of the Eagle Claw master and thrust him back, slamming the bird's wing into the statue and grinding it fiercely into the stone. He knew he heard bone crack, and Chao's screech in these close quarters was almost deafening.

 

"I'm not," he panted, "going…to let you…win, Chao!" With each word, he ground the falcon harder into the stonework, as he held the rest of his enemy's body pinned with his black-and-white bulk.

 

"What…you wish…is immaterial, _Dragon Warrior_ ," the mage snarled—and then he flexed the powerful bulk of his chest and shoulder muscles, wings flaring outward to break Po's hold and send him flying back along the spiraling coils.

 

And so it went, with each of them launching one attack after another, dodging and twisting, leaping and somersaulting, with Chao able to perform his feats thanks to his being in the air while the panda simply drew upon everything his masters had taught him to be as awesome as possible. The falcon tried to claw his back open, but Po's armor only produced a teeth-grating screech and left him unharmed. The Dragon Warrior rotated about to deliver his most powerful roundhouse yet, succeeding in slamming into the side of the wizard's head—but Chao shrugged it off and came diving in again, outstretched talons aiming for Po's unprotected throat.

 

He ducked this sally, rolled over and brought his feet up to try and catch the avian by the neck—but Chao blithely slipped free as if greased with oil, leaving the panda to land embarrassingly on his face. The _chi_ master came at him with a lightning-fast series of strikes, slashes, and kicks, but Po blocked every single one with the shield, an upraised Tiger Fist, or a tucked-in Crane stance.

 

He punched Chao with enough force to cave in a normal fighter's chest, his fist surrounded by a glowing aura of his _chi_ that made the Eagle Claw master let out a scream of agony. The falcon retaliated with a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree aerial swivel-kick that might have broken his neck or at least paralyzed him, but Po ducked low as he had, over time, finally learned how from Tai Lung, so that it missed him completely.

 

Eventually Chao seemed to tire of such tactics, perhaps growing too enraged by Po's surprisingly agile evasion, and his stolid implacability when blows did manage to land on him. Instead he began a repetitive descent from the heights of the cavern, streaking down to strafe him with one slash and claw of his bracer and talons only to wheel about and tirelessly make another run. But the Dragon Warrior, ever resourceful even when there seemed little about his surroundings he could use in unexpected ways, merely leaped out of the way of most of these attacks—only to suddenly thrust out his belly and absorb the momentum.

 

As Chao bounced off his armored body and reeled about with a decidedly dazed air, Po was thrown backwards by the same collision…only to turn that uncontrolled movement into a belly flop, one he employed in comical but effective fashion to ride the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass with whizzing, exhilarating speed down the coils of the dragon statue!

 

Behind him he could hear Chao growling in impotent fury, then the rustle of feathers as the falcon pursued him, but Po only lifted his feet and paws high and threw his weight into one turn after another, always staying several yards ahead and laughing wildly in spite of himself. _Man, this is fun! Nothin' says I gotta be all dark an' serious just 'cause this is a fight t' th' death._

 

And he would bet his action figure collection that seeing him refuse to take things with the proper gravity must be making Chao even more incensed—just as Tai Lung had become during their final battle. He had all of the snow leopard's bad traits without any of the good, and might just be capable of being manipulated in the same way…

 

Indeed, as Po and his makeshift sled skidded off the last coil onto the floor of the Vault and fetched up against a pale blue crystal formation, the _chi_ wizard sailed down from on high, feathered fists clenched as if longing to rip the panda's lungs out. "Do not think to escape me, panda! No matter where you run or hide, I will find you—even within your very dreams…"

 

"Blah, blah, I get it, you're the scariest dude since the Great Khan invaded, an' we all gotta get th' heck outta your way before ya turn us into shredded noodles," the Dragon Warrior recited, both mocking and deadpan. Even though he was actually still quite scared of Chao, maybe if he acted like he wasn't he could overcome that fear and be truly badass. Enough to throw the falcon off, anyway.

 

"An' I wasn't runnin' away, just gettin' to a better position." He struck a Dragon stance, although as he scooped up the shield again he formed his other paw into a flat plane—which, depending on what happened next, could either become a Viper strike or a Crane chop at a moment's notice.

 

"You truly think you can defeat me?" Chao chuckled, dry and mirthless. "Shifu made the same foolhardy mistake…and soon he will lose his life for it. You know far less than he."

 

Mentioning the red panda, who had come to believe so strongly in his new student that he was able to overcome decades of rigid, uncompromising training to become versatile, fluid, and unorthodox—in other words, changing from an Earth to a Water mentality—only made Po's temper flare. Unlike Tai Lung or Tigress, though, he was able to control it. He hoped. "He only lost 'cause you cheated, chump. An' I know enough t' make sure you never get t' hurt him, or anyone else, ever again."

 

With that, he concentrated, focusing on his most recent training—and with a clenched jaw and beads of sweat forming thickly on his brow, he summoned water vapor right out of the air itself, forming it into a thin ribbon which soon became a thick rope and then a coiling stream. This he flung out with cracking force, just like a whip.

 

To his extreme shock, disappointment, and worry, Chao did not even blink or attempt to dodge aside. And as the rippling serpent of water extended its full length and came down like a knife edge to slash through Chao's wing, as Crane's Ring Blade had done, the falcon only twisted the appendage aside in a complex gyration, as if it had become boneless—and while the water did succeed in cutting through a few feathers, much worse was the way the liquid suddenly seemed to dissolve, evaporating into the air once again, almost as if it had struck some mystical aura that had made it lose cohesion.

 

"Ah. Of course," Chao drawled, seeming completely unsurprised or perturbed. "You have discovered how to channel the elements through your _chi_. That is how you purified the Pool, and defeated my servants. Just as it was the _chi_ of the Dragon Warrior that blocked my sight, so that I was unaware of your presence."

 

He paused, and then his eyes flashed—oddly, the crimson hue within them beginning to darken, shifting from the luridness of flame to the sickly brown of clotted blood, then beyond this into a deeper, colder, midnight blue. His ebony aura, too, lost its scarlet edges as they faded into something darker—indigo, swiftly becoming a rich and frigid-looking purple.

 

And as Po instinctively lashed out again with a surging stream of water, Chao clenched his feathers and gestured…and before the panda's disbelieving eyes, his aquatic attack was stalled in mid-air as a fierce wave of cold assaulted it, misty violet _chi_ that almost instantly froze every drop of water in place as an explosive, sharply scattered cluster of gigantic icicles.

 

"Lest you forget," the wizard said softly, with brittle satisfaction, "I am a master of _chi_. Did you truly think I, too, could not draw upon such abilities as yours? Or that the Five Elements are the only ones which exist?"

 

Feeling as if his heart, too, had been frozen, Po hurriedly thrust his paw out again, pressing his will into the ice—but whether because Chao was fighting him to retain its solidity or because its structure was now quite different, he found he could neither shift the frozen water nor return it to its liquid state. _No. No no **no**!_

 

"Poor Dragon Warrior," Chao opined sadly, as if he were truly sympathetic to his plight. "Only now, at the end, do you understand. Why do you think I sent others to remove you as an obstacle…why I never approached you directly…why I did not bother to fight you or fear you, though your scroll granted you a power that Oogway believed sufficient to protect the Valley? Because I was the one who gave your precious trinket its power…because I knew you were no true threat to me…because, in the end, you are still only a peasant far too enamored of your dim sum.

 

"My doddering master may have believed you to be his greatest warrior—you may have convinced the villagers, the Furious Five, and yourself that you were meant for great things. But no…you are only a sad dreamer, a nonentity playing at something far better than yourself. Go back to your dolls, panda, and let your betters decide the fate of the empire. Continue to interfere…and you will only needlessly lose your life."

 

Deep inside, where his insecurities, uncertainties, and fears remained secretly hidden, sublimated but never truly eliminated, Po felt himself cower. His old doubts and worries, his self-loathing and inadequacy, reared their ugly heads…and he stared at Chao with widened eyes, his whole body trembling. What if the mage was right…what if all this time, they had all been deluding themselves?

 

Sure, he had learned so much kung fu in so little time, and he had been taught elemental _chi_ as well…but did that prove he was the Dragon Warrior? Did it even count for anything, when Chao could easily outclass and overcome him with such casual nonchalance? What had he been thinking, even attempting something like this?

 

But then, something else buried just as deeply inside him rebelled violently. Wrenching out of his paralysis, Po clenched his fist tighter, lurched forward, and let out a fierce, menacing growl. "Nuh-uh! Xiu tried the same thing on me—and she's dead now, y'know! Don't even think I'm gonna fall for it. I thought I wasn't good enough for th' scroll…that I could never defeat Tai Lung. But I did. And I knew even less then, than I do now!

 

"I'm better than you think…better'n you…an' y'know what else? I know somethin' you'll never know—how t' love, an' how t' put everyone else's needs before mine. T' do th' right thing." So saying, he leaped forward again, calling on another burst of water, this time drawn from one of the stone-lined pools in the Vault—and as he used the cascade as a blind to conceal his subsequent attack, he cried, "And for th' last time, they're _action figures_!"

 

In reverse of their previous battle, the panda swung his fist and feet again and again, pounding into Chao, driving him back, hurling him into statues and stalagmites, the bases of pillars and clusters of gemstone. Over and over, he unleashed every ounce of his growing anger at the one who dared suggest he might not be a true hero, and never could be.

 

Over and over, he pummeled him, sending his head flying back with well-placed uppercuts…slammed his shield into him with bruising force, making him double over and clutch at one shoulder when the golden metal battered it and nearly brought him to his knees…whirled about on one foot and then the other to smash across Chao's beak, drive his heel into the falcon's breastbone, try to knock his legs out from under him.

 

And again and again, he sent the water flying—sometimes in the same churning, splashing waves that would soak the mage to the skin and slam with crushing force across his diaphragm, at other times gathered into weapons as he'd used it against Xiu: a butterfly sword one moment, a staff or a mace the next.

 

Yet for every stunning blow he landed, every successful attack that sent Chao tumbling backwards or left him badly bleeding and crumpled in agony, there were just as many that missed entirely. The injuries he dealt were in turn healed almost immediately by his dark _chi_ —and as for the water, the falcon managed to slice through it with a wing, redirect it to splash harmlessly against a wall, or again freeze it into unyielding and immovable ice.

 

Worse, instead of merely leaving it in place as rather pretty but ultimately useless sculptures, Chao was soon smashing the ice apart with well-placed chops, slashes of his bracer and talons, or simple gestures, and Po found himself having to dodge hails of deadly, bitterly cold knives as well as kung fu moves.

 

He ducked behind a pillar to avoid one particularly unerring barrage…threw up the shield to block another…leaped behind the foot of the tiger master's statue as they moved away from the portal through which _yaoguai_ still poured. He crouched low to keep from being struck by Chao's wing, slashed at his belly with a liquid war fan only to have it splash futilely against another unseen _chi_ barrier, and then nearly slipped and fell as Chao transformed his own water into an extremely dangerous patch of black ice.

 

And as he became more and more incensed, vicious, and desperate in his attacks, Po heard Chao laughing in amused contentment, something that only made his blood boil all the more. "Oh, my dear Po—may I call you Po? Xiu was absolutely correct, you know. You truly are your father's son, through and through."

 

"What?" _No. He couldn't know about that. He's just bluffin'._ "Shut up—"

 

Chao smiled coldly. "Oh, yes, I know all about Bao. I was not there when he pressed you upon that mindless goose—if I had been, I would have given Chun the wherewithal to tell him no, and nudged Xiu into killing him off if he wouldn't take no for an answer. But I knew what he had done, what was forced upon him, what he became."

 

He sent a blast of cold wind across the ground, freezing Po's latest spray into a colossal, weirdly upthrust mass of crystallized, jaggedly-pointed icicles that nearly pierced him through—the panda only saved himself by bringing the shield around in time to smash through the ice completely, raining pieces of it all around his broad, armored shoulders.

 

"And I imagine you believe, secretly, that what occurred was all my fault, don't you? Oh, you are so predictable, panda…your simple-minded hopes and dreams, the ridiculous folly of your beliefs in love and forgiveness…everything you believe hidden is so utterly open to me. You think the general who refused your father's request had his heart hardened by me, that Bao became so bloodthirsty and rapacious in his killings because I twisted and corrupted his heart. That in truth he had to be the same good, noble, heroic fellow you are."

 

Po slid to a stop—almost literally, as another patch of ice formed underneath him. He had not yet had time to process all the Wu Sisters had told him, let alone admitted to himself what it might mean or what other interpretations of events there might have been. But…he couldn't deny how much he'd love that to be true, how part of him had already concluded as much and locked onto it as the only way he could admire and honor Bao as his father. Ugly feelings warred within him—despair and horror, fear and loathing, denial and rage.

 

Not even waiting for him to respond—he hadn't needed to, with almost everything Po was thinking displayed so blatantly on his face—Chao shot him a malicious, knowing, horrible grin. "But I'm afraid, once again, you're mistaken. I may have had a hand in events…let's just say the Manchurian soldiers were…encouraged…to invade and commit atrocities far more than they would have otherwise. But that general's lack of empathy was an all-too-human trait I had no need to inflame.

 

"And your father—he became what he did by his own paw. I did not cause that earthquake…I did not ruin his livelihood…and I didn't even twist his love of combat into one of killing. He did that all himself." His eyes flashed red. "And like him, you too are becoming a violent, destructive fighter without an ounce of corruption from me. Isn't that delightful?"

 

" ** _NO!_** " Roaring in outrage and hatred, even as he knew he was proving Chao's words true by his actions, Po burst up from his crouched position and punched him right in the face, whirling and twisting the avian's head about as he hurled him with all his might into a pillar.

 

Snarling, he stalked in pursuit, smashing through another wall of ice with his shield. "I'm _not_ like that, I won't _ever_ be like that!" He kicked Chao through a crystal formation. "I'm a hero…I'm always gonna do th' right thing…an' I won't let you mess with my mind. You're…goin'… ** _down_**!"

 

Rising from where he'd toppled over into a bed of mingled ice and crystal, the wizard only laughed however, shaking his head almost in regret. "So admirable, but so in vain…though you rail against it, you cannot change your fate. Who knows…if I do not kill you, you may even fall under my sway after all, destroyed by your own darkness. You have already served me once…in one way or another, you may do so again."

 

"What're you babblin' about now?" the Dragon Warrior demanded, feeling as if one of those uneven lumps of ice were even now forming inside his body, where his heart used to be. "I ain't ever done anythin' t' help you, an' I never will!"

 

"Oh, but haven't you figured it out, haven't you guessed, how it is I was freed from the chains in which Oogway bound me?" Heian Chao's smile, somehow, became even more smugly diabolical. "His _chi_ had weakened, he was no longer here to hold me, and Tai Lung gave me more power than I could ever have imagined…but it was you who let me go."

 

Po's breath fled. "No. _No_. You're lyin'!"

 

"I do not have to lie, not when the truth serves my purposes far better," Chao said lightly, delightedly. "Yes, Dragon Warrior. You freed me. Your use of the Wuxi Finger Hold…oh, it was so insufferably self-sacrificing, such a beautiful and Confucian gesture, a way to end the fighting while sparing lives, a way to free Tai Lung from my clutches and bring him back to himself, out of the shadows and into the light.

 

"But all for naught. For your _chi_ was so strong, it severed my bonds when it swept the Valley, even here beneath the Jade Palace. Isn't that a delicious irony?" The falcon seemed on the verge of actually clapping his wing feathers together like an excited child.

 

"That you, who was to be China's savior, are instead its destroyer. Oogway truly was a senile fool. He believed that by holding me here, where his _chi_ would contain and mask my own, by living atop me and thereby restraining my darkness, he would prevent my influence from spreading…would keep me trapped, cut off from any source of power, so I would eventually wither and perish. He was wrong. Just as he was wrong to choose you to succeed him. You have made my freedom possible…I have much to thank you for…"

 

Horror flooded Po's thoughts, his heart and his soul. For the longer he listened, despite his earnest desire not to believe, not to fall for Chao's lies, the more he realized they might indeed not be false. That the combination of his _chi_ , the power of the Dragon Scroll, and such an incredibly overwhelming and wildly unpredictable move as the Wuxi Finger Hold might well have been enough to overcome even Oogway's will maintaining a thousand-year prison.

 

Tai Lung had warned him what might have happened had he attempted to use the hold on Chao…but neither of them had followed this thought through to its natural conclusion, that the hold had _already_ been used on him, and what it had wrought.

 

His throat locked up as he struggled to hold back a sob. His eyes flooded with tears that made it difficult to see. He felt his arm go nearly limp as the Golden Shield fell to his side. And he felt his own _chi_ flicker and die, allowing the water to land with a noisy splash on the cavern floor as his legs buckled, dropping him to his knees. "No… _no_ …oh gods…" _I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry, Master Oogway! How could I have known…?_

 

And it was then, as the true enormity of this mistake hit him—that if not for him, and his resolution to spare Tai Lung's life rather than take it, all those innocent people…and Commander Vachir, and Zhuang…would still be alive—Heian Chao immediately struck.

 

With his claw bracer flashing and driving down on one wing, and the other sending one blast of dark _chi_ after another laden with sharp spears of ice, the falcon pounded away at his collapsed form—only one last, instinctive act of self-preservation allowed him to raise the shield in time to protect himself.

 

"You only prolong the inevitable," Chao spat. "It will not save you. Neither will your vaunted armor…it did not save Flying Rhino when I killed him, any more than his ultimate grandson Vachir was safe from me. Fitting, that…that I eliminated both the beginning and the end of that line. And how Ochir would be so destroyed, and Thundering Rhino as well, knowing his own flesh and blood helped me murder so many innocents, and bring the land under my control, as was foreordained. No one, then or now, has learned what I have always known…that I am meant to rule. But you _shall_ learn it now!"

 

Po cowered beneath the shield, shuddered as he felt the renewed rain of blows hammering upon it, and couldn't help but whimper as he struggled to stay upright, to call on his _chi_ again as a bastion to protect him. He succeeded at one, barely, but not the other—for he found, to his chagrin but also his resigned acceptance, that his confidence had failed him completely. How could it do otherwise, when he knew the truth now…that he was no hero, never had been, never could be?

 

His wrath in battle was only a sign of his inevitable fall into his father's sinful, terrible life…and the very thing he'd thought to be an act of mercy, kindness, and morality was instead that which had doomed the Valley, everyone in it—and his new best friend. He was a failure, pure and simple.

_Gods…oh please…let it be over soon, let it be quick…_

 

The shield quivered and wavered…he flinched, his shoulders buckling, as another rush of ice burst upwards, almost completely encasing and trapping his form…leaving him ripe for Chao's relentless attacks…

                                                                      

* * *

 

On the far side of the cavern, weaving and darting and leaping amongst the shimmering spectral forms of the Warriors of Tenshu as well as the ropey, sinuous shapes of the repugnant _yaoguai_ , Mantis was in the midst of his typical, rapid-fire kung fu that kept any but the sharpest eye from even seeing him, let alone putting a stop to him.

 

So light he could literally bounce off of any surface without harm to himself, so small that most did not take him seriously as a fighter—to their detriment—and so skilled he could shift gears and turn one strike or kick into another in an instant, the insect let nothing slow or deter him from his goal. He caught one demon by the throat and smashed him face first into a second, knocking both of them into unconsciousness. A third was hoisted over his head and flung headfirst into a fourth, impaling it with its horns. Yet another collapsed howling on the ground when Mantis darted downward and surgically severed its hamstrings.

 

Behind him, fighting back-to-back with him, Monkey was a whirlwind of his own, flipping and diving and springing without pause, hesitation, or even a sign he was out of breath. Supporting himself on one hand, the simian executed a swivel-kick to smash into a whole circle of onrushing demons, tossing all of them outward to collapse on the ground. He immediately turned that into a forward somersault, landed to spin on his backside with both the Iron Fist and his nunchaku extended to trip up his enemies, then rolled upright again to punch with every ounce of strength and momentum with the metal gauntlet right in a _yaoguai_ 's chest.

 

The ribs and sternum caved in, releasing a gout of blood and crackling fire, but Monkey had already dodged aside to tackle the next in the line, kicking it powerfully to snap one knee in half while he swung the nunchaku back behind him to crush in the demonic muzzle about to sink its fangs in the back of his neck.

 

Yet even as the two of them fought on through rank after rank of _yaoguai_ , often aided by the swirling, surging forms of the misty Warriors, Mantis had a very strong feeling that fighting demons was not the only matter on the agenda—that all too soon, he'd be questioned by a rightfully confused and upset Monkey about what had transpired, just how he had survived and made it back here…and why he'd allowed them all to think him dead.

 

While Chao had to be fooled, and taking him by surprise had indeed turned out to be a critical move, he also knew there was no excuse for his actions, for not finding some way to let his friends know the truth. A little over two weeks since they had thought him lost in the depths of Chorh-Gom…it would not surprise him in the least if they wanted nothing to do with him after this battle was over, if they never forgave him…

 

He was right in at least one respect. For as they continued punching, kicking, and striking their way across the Vault toward the looming, gaping gateway that was still disgorging demons by the hundreds, right in the middle of punching his Iron Fist into an abomination's throat, Monkey suddenly said, "Okay. So ya faked your death, like ya did for those crocodile bandits in Anhui. I got that part. An' I know why ya did it. But how the heck did ya survive that fall?"

 

Mantis sighed heavily, but managed a wry smirk even as he stabbed out to strike a demon's thigh—as a supernatural creature it had no nerve clusters to speak of, but the goodness of his _chi_ could still paralyze its evil essence. "Well I gotta admit, it wasn't easy. Especially after that sucker punch of yours." Despite not having been in control of himself at the time, Monkey had the grace to look repentant.

 

"But I don't weigh much, and the wind in that place slowed my fall more than you might think. No, the bigger problem was how I was gonna make it out of there, injured, when I didn't have anything to live off of…"

 

The golden langur spun about and slammed the heel of one foot into a _yaoguai_ 's groin—and such was the force of the blow the demon still doubled over and fell back, leaving a space for him to duck through. "So…inquirin' minds wanna know!"

 

For several moments, Mantis was silent, and not just because he was intent on knocking away the bombardment of demons that threatened to pile atop and crush him. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Monkey, or that he thought the primate wouldn't believe him—after all they'd seen and experienced, every one of the Jade Palace masters now knew that Oogway's old aphorism about the possibility of the impossible was strict and utter truth. It was that the way he'd survived was still confusing even to him…not to mention quite personal and meaningful. He knew it needed to be shared, but he wasn't sure how to put something so sacred into words.

 

"Well, uh…it's like this. What I said to Tai Lung…that wasn't a joke. I really did see, and talk to, Master Oogway."

 

" _Really_?" Monkey stared at him in awe, not even noticing as he instinctively flung one forearm up to strike the demon behind him with his Iron Fist.

 

Mantis nodded soberly, and even as he leaped ten feet off the ground to avoid a particularly hulking specimen of _yaoguai_ , only to descend and strike it in the back of the skull with enough force to punch through horn and bone, his mind was already flicking back to that moment, two weeks ago in the frigid, shadowy abyss of Chorh-Gom…

_Wind. Cold, rushing, deafening wind blowing past him, knocking him about violently, roughly…catching him in an uncontrolled, terrifying vortex which seemed to have no end…buffeting him about from one cliff face, ruined bridge support, or looming rock formation to another…deeper, deeper, falling until he was certain he'd fall forever, into the very center of the earth, right into the underworld itself. **Well, that's one way to get there faster…**_

_Picking up speed, plummeting ever faster, until he knew if he struck any solid surface he would be as smashed into gooey paste as he would have been from Monkey's fist if he hadn't instinctively, in the last seconds, gathered all his_ chi _in a complex web within his body…strengthening and hardening it, turning his exoskeleton itself into an unbreakable shield against this villain's mystical power… Closed eyes, barely discernible breaths, as he apologized to the gods for failing them, failing Monkey, failing his master…because, as had been his wont in his youth, he hadn't had enough patience._

_If he'd only waited…confronted the simian after Vachir was defeated, when all of them could have formed a united front against the langur, overpowered and imprisoned him until they could get back to the Valley and perform a_ chi _exorcism…_

_He waited now, for the end. Except_ — _it never came. He could feel the rock towering over and around him, sense the ledge approaching to loom out of the shadows beneath him, knew he was about to slam into it with crushing force…but suddenly, somehow, he felt his motion slow and the very air about him seem to congeal. Was he out of his mind? Was this sort of disconnect from reality what happened when you were about to die?_

_As he descended with deceptive gentleness, as if being suspended upon a silken pillow or a puff of cloud, until he almost hovered above the slab of stone and his movement was more like a centimeter every minute, he suddenly heard a voice in his mind_ — _a very familiar voice, one he thought he'd never hear again, not for many more years anyway. It was chiding but also quite fond._

 

" _Master Mantis…even at your age, you still have lessons to learn…but I had thought you had mastered this one. Where is your famed patience? All will be explained to you…if you simply wait, calm your mind, and believe."_

_He opened his eyes._

 

_He wasn't in Chorh-Gom anymore. In fact, he wasn't anywhere he recognized…at least, not at first…nor was he still falling through open space. Instead he was seated in the lotus position atop a broken shelf of rock, bare except for small bits of underbrush and flowering plants and a carpet of rich, verdant grass—one that seemed to be suspended in the middle of nothing. All around him, as far as he could see, were other chunks of rock, some only small boulders and others gigantic slabs as if entire mountain peaks or cliff faces had been sheared away by some unimaginable destructive energy…or as if the world itself had lost all cohesion, dissolving into chaos and randomness._

 

_Here and there however, as if to contrast this with signs of order, to maintain the balance of Yin and Yang, were portions of stonework and other man-made structures, some of which resembled palaces, temples, and houses while others were practically identical to sections of the Great Wall. The sky, where he could see it between and beyond this ever-shifting, rotating collection of shattered land, was filled by either a strange, viridian green or a much brighter light alternately of warm yellow and burnished, gleaming gold. The latter shone down directly upon the slab where he sat, a constant stream of energy from an unseen sun that lent everything a preternatural, holy glow._

_As if all of this were not enough to have the insect staring in awe with jaw hanging agape, rising before him on a small outcrop and backlit by the rays angling down from the heavens was what he swore was an exact replica of the Peach Tree of Heavenly Wisdom…once more fully abloom, pink petals rustling in the whispering wind to give off their usual saintly, soothing aroma of peace and serenity. And directly in front of him, in the exact same position as himself but hovering unsupported several feet above the ground before the tree, was_ —

 

" _Master Oogway!" He couldn't keep the excitement from his voice. "You're alive, you didn't leave us after all!" He paused, frowning. "Either that, or we're both dead."_

_The tortoise smiled knowingly at him, as he always had_ — _as if he knew secrets he wasn't telling. "Neither. I have indeed passed on, but I am in another plane of existence, the Spirit Realm that sometimes intersects the world of the living_ — _in times of great hardship, when immense mystical power has been unleashed…or when lives are in the balance, about to cross over from one realm to the next. You are here because you too are on that edge…because you have a decision to make. You_ — _"_

_Mantis cut him off peremptorily, even though he knew it was rude and displayed more inappropriate impatience. "If this is about choosing whether to go back or go on, you sure as hell know what I'm gonna say. So can we move on to the part where you heal me already?"_

_Oogway paused, a look of mild reproach appearing on his aged face, but then he merely shook his head and smiled in amusement. "Very well. But know this: I did not summon your spirit here merely to save you or help you recover from your injuries. If you are to be of use to the others when you return, you must know more_ — _not only more than they, but more than Heian Chao."_

_He felt his feelers twitch even without seeing them. "So that's who we're dealing with, huh? Should've known you'd be better informed than anybody else."_

_A look of intense pain crossed the sage's features, and for a moment his eyes squeezed shut; somehow, despite already being dead, he looked even older, wearier, and overcome by terrible sorrow. Then he fixed a gaze burdened with truth and regret on the insect. "More than you can possibly know, Mantis. And how I wish I were not…but it is just possible that what I know can help you. That Chao can be stopped once and for all."_

_Mantis sensed there was much more to this than the Grand Master was telling him, but he was not about to pry; if there were things he wasn't meant to know, it would do no good insisting on hearing them. He would do far better to accept what was offered and trust it was all he would need to win. "Okay, shoot. What've you got for me, Master?"_

 

" _The decision I referred to," Oogway intoned in his memorably somnolent, cadent tone, "was not merely which world you would return to. You must also make the choice whether to live or die in another sense. As you may have guessed, Heian Chao tried to eliminate you, not only because you divined what he had done to poor Monkey, but because of your mastery of both_ chi _and the healing arts. He wishes none to remain who can preserve life in the Valley…nor one who could possibly undermine his power._

 

" _When you return, you can do this_ — _you have the knowledge and the means to break his spells, seal his powers, and ward away any of his dark conjurings. But for this to succeed, he must believe you dead and gone. He must not have any reason to think you will return to plague him. He must be completely unprepared when you appear with the weapons and abilities to overcome him. And that means…not even Shifu and the others can know of your survival."_

_If he could have, Mantis would have toppled off his perch and beaten his forehead with his pincer. He settled for groaning and closing his eyes in denial. "What? You…you can't be serious! Master, I_ — _"_

 

" _I am quite serious." The ancient reptile was indeed more somber and pensive than he'd ever seen him, and as if to underscore this, one of the larger pieces of hovering mountain passed directly through the sky behind him, briefly eclipsing the sunlight and casting his face in shadow. "I do not ask this of you lightly. But recall: should he know of your continued existence, Chao will not rest until he has slain you in truth. Next time, I may not be able to save you. If you reveal yourself to the others, he will possess another, and another, until he has finally removed you._

 

" _And if he knows you live, knows I intervened, then he will be on guard. He will expect what I am about to impart to you, and have prepared ways to counter it. Do you truly wish to risk all of this, and possibly doom the Jade Palace, and the Valley, to Chao's domination, simply to soothe the minds and hearts of your friends?"_

_There was really no way he could answer that, because there was no answer save one. The one he did not want to give, but knew he had to accept. If that was what was really at stake…and if this was the only way to stop the one who had so perverted and twisted Monkey…_

 

" _They're gonna hate me, you know," Mantis said at last, fixing his beady eyes unwaveringly on the old master. "They'll never forgive me for keeping this from them. Especially Monkey."_

 

" _Perhaps. Perhaps not." Oogway tilted one stubby-clawed hand up and down in the lambent air. "Believe me, I do not wish to manipulate and mislead in such a manner. But Chao has forced my hand. As for Monkey…though harsh, this may be for his own good. As long as he believes you dead, and by his own hand, he will remain proof against Chao's influence_ — _although guilt and regret can drive the heart to unhealthy ends, they are emotions which ultimately cannot be turned to darkness. The pain he knows at your demise, and the sorrow at believing he caused it, will give him the determination and strength to resist Chao. If he believes you lost, he will never again allow Chao to inhabit him."_

_Mantis sighed, lowered his gaze at last to his crossed legs. "Damn. I never thought I'd hear **you** say the ends justify the means."_

 

" _Once in a dynasty, perhaps, a principle such as that can be true. And even I can be wrong."_

_Closing his eyes once more, the insect considered every side of the issue, every angle, every possible alternative. And when he discovered he truly had no other options_ — _and that he had to trust in Oogway, as they always had_ — _he slowly nodded. "Fine. You're the wise one here, Master, you know what's best." He set his jaw. "But the minute it doesn't need to be hidden anymore, I'm letting the cat out of the bag."_

 

" _I would not wish it any other way." The turtle smiled at him, both proudly and with genuine affection_ — _then he sat up straight, extended one hand out above Mantis's head, and began to speak. As he did so, the insect could feel_ chi _flowing into him, empowering him, a burning warmth that slid like molten honey down every limb and bit of chitin, making him feel stronger, more filled with health and willpower, than he had in years._

 

" _Very well. Listen closely, Mantis. When you return to the Valley, and you feel the earth tremble and a shadow stripped from the land, you will know the time has come. Then you must take the Urn of Whispering Warriors_ — _"_

 

" _The Urn?" He couldn't keep silent at this bit of startling news. "I actually get to call on the Warriors of Tenshu? Man, this is truly, awesomely intense!" He paused, as Oogway regarded him with one brow quirked oddly. "Uh…I've been hanging around Po too much, I think. So…this is when the legend comes true, when they were prophesied to be needed again? It's even more serious than I thought…"_

_Nodding, the turtle began executing intricate gestures in the air over his head. "Indeed. And when you have need of them, when Chao draws upon his darkest powers to overcome your friends, these are the words you must use…" And somehow, as Oogway murmured them, they seemed to take visible form, hovering in the air above his head…the hanzi burning indelibly into his vision with a blazing and pure white light, the strokes of which followed the reptile's claws as if fashioned by a celestial brush…just as the sound of the syllables was branded into his mind…_

 

"Uh, Mantis?"

 

Jerking out of his reverie, the insect discovered that with his body on autopilot, he'd flung at least twenty bodies of demons—and counting—into a crushing pile of quivering chunks and dislocated limbs, and the rest of the rampaging horde around him was actually giving him a very wide berth. It seemed even nearly mindless, irredeemably wicked beasts could learn caution and fear under the right circumstances.

 

"Huh? Oh. Well, yeah…Oogway spared me, gave me a nice pep talk, healed me up with his _chi_ , badda-bing, badda-boom, and here I am." Even if Monkey might accept the truth of the turtle's directive to him, and why the insect had kept his survival a secret, he rather felt now wasn't the time to get into it. Later, when they had won and all was calm—and when he had a significant head start, maybe then…

 

Unsurprisingly, Monkey was frowning at him suspiciously. "Uh-huh. So why didn't ya come and find us? Why'd it take you two weeks to get back home?"

 

"Uh, yeah, about that." Mantis leaped up on a violet crystal to evade a charging _yaoguai_ , then brought both pincers down to catch it by the horns, jerking it upward to be gutted on the jutting gemstone. "Well, it's not exactly a short, easy journey from there to Hubei in the best of times, you know? And anyway, I wasn't completely fine after I woke up. By the time I made it out of the passages under the prison, you guys had already left. I made it down to the desert near Qinghe, and thought I was gonna starve or dehydrate…but then someone else came to my rescue."

 

"Who? The missing villagers?"

 

"No." The insect smiled in spite of himself. "Would you believe a tribe of Mongols? They aren't all the ruthless invaders everyone seems to think they are." _Though that old rhino matriarch that made me do her washing for her was pretty damn scary._ "They took me in, fed me, dressed my wounds, didn't even ask for anything in return. I offered to teach them some kung fu, but they were such fierce warriors already, they said they didn't need it. Helping out lost wanderers in the desert or out on the steppes seems to be what they do. All they were looking for really was some information, and I gave it to them."

_What I could, anyway. No way I could tell that woman and her kid that their man wasn't just dead, he'd been possessed by a crazy dark wizard! But if she shows up at the Palace, we can tell her the truth then_ — _if she'll even believe us, and not try to tear a piece out of Tai Lung's pelt…_

 

"Really? Who knew, huh…" For several more minutes, Monkey seemed to digest this in silence, the only sounds being the continued grunts, roars, snarls, and thuds as he took out one demon after another with broken joints, crushed throats, pronged fingers in the eyes. Then, as the last creature he'd struck collapsed and dissolved into boiling black mist, the simian turned back to Mantis, a pugnacious look on his face. "We thought you were dead."

_Here it comes_. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry about that…I didn't have much choice in the matter…"

 

Now he looked decidedly mournful, as if he were on the verge of tears. "I made a grave for you, an' everything!"

 

He decided not to mention he'd seen it in the snowy valley, along with Vachir's. "You did? That's…that's really good of you, buddy."

 

Monkey's lips quivered. "I thought you were dead…I thought I'd _killed_ you…an' now here you _are_ , all alive…an' I _missed_ you, Heng!" If they weren't in the middle of a battle, and if there wasn't such a large size difference, Mantis rather thought the langur would be kneeling and catching him up in a tight, crushing embrace. As it was, he felt a lump form in his own throat as he heard the simian call him by his given name…Quon Heng, a name he had rarely heard since he was made a master twenty years ago.

 

Chuckling gently, the insect dodged to the side to avoid another demon that had been lunging for him so that instead it fell flat on its enormous, fanged muzzle. Absently, he kicked the creature in the side, sending it sliding across the ground, where a tag team of Mei and Jia skewered it in an explosion of smoke and flame. "Aww, I missed you too, Kong. Not that I wanna pick out curtains or anything." _Well, whaddaya know. Guess I was wrong after all._

 

He glanced around pointedly at the surging lines of demons and Warriors, their comrades fighting off the spirits of wickedness and destruction, and the shadowy doorway still beckoning them onward. "But now that you know what happened, and that I forgive you for what happened—'cause I do, you know—do you think maybe we could get back to taking names and kicking butt? The others are kinda counting on us to close that portal, and we may not be able to beat Chao without it."

 

Monkey wiped away his tears, sniffled, and nodded fervently—his expression becoming decidedly malicious, his eyes displaying a manic gleam. But instead of the evil and sadism he'd seen in them in that long-forgotten ward room, now Mantis only saw a determined desire to wipe out and expunge the darkness for good. "You got it, my friend!"

 

And with those crowed words, the simian brandished his Iron Fist, whirled his nunchaku in a violent, whip-like motion, and leaped in a forward tumble through the air—over, through, and past the lumbering demons, aimed straight toward the waiting portal. Mantis watched him with a grin for only a split second…then he too sprang, streaking through the air in unerring, rapid pursuit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun working some of Mantis's _Secrets of the Furious Five_ backstory into this to explain how he survived Chorh-Gom. His arrival with the Urn, meanwhile (aside from being another Chekhov's Gun, since I had just mentioned it was back and repaired before they all descended to the Vault), allows him to have a wonderful Big Damn Heroes moment—and if it doesn't sound too arrogant of me, I think his words to Chao constitute one of the best Shut Up Hannibal speeches on record. ;) Other Chekhov's Guns which have now been fired were Jia's search for youth and what would happen if it were taken from her, the nunchaku from Oogway's room, and the summoning of the yaoguai. The Mandarin words Mantis says to summon the Warriors of Tenshu, on the other hand (think Mulan's ancestor spirits crossed with the Terra Cotta Army) mean, of course, "Hold fast, brothers, hold fast".
> 
> While the given name I included for Mantis was my own invention, Monkey's comes from Peter the Muggle's "Monkey in the Middle". And after seeing KFP3 I couldn't help coming back to this and somewhat revising my description of the Spirit Realm to match what we saw in the movie (as well as give it its proper name); it was actually surprisingly close to what we ended up seeing, but I wanted to make it more explicit, especially with the awesome sight of the floating pieces of landscape and the beautiful addition of a spiritual copy of the Peach Tree which really made the place unique.


	43. Igniting the Flame

 

A loud scream suddenly cut through the sounds of battle, loud enough it could even be heard over the crackling of flames, the roaring of the _yaoguai_ as they launched at their prey, and the choral crescendo of the Warriors as they surrounded, entrapped, and destroyed their hated demonic foes. It wasn't just that the scream itself was so out of place amongst the rest of the cacophony, or so strangled and distressed it was clear the owner had either been badly injured or was in fear of soon being so. It was who the voice belonged to—Po.

 

Gasping in horror, Viper whirled about atop the fallen demon she had jerked off its hooves and wrapped in her coils. Not even paying attention as she shoved the prongs of the Invisible Trident deep into the creature's chest, causing it to shiver, spasm from head to foot, and then dissolve into steaming, greasy ash beneath her, the serpent could only stare across the Vault.

 

Past the portal, toward which Monkey and Mantis were both running, past Xiu's fallen body, and past the spectral contingents being led by Tigress, Mei, and Jia, she could see Heian Chao had somehow surrounded the Dragon Warrior in a framework of ice. Even as she watched, the gigantic crystals were growing ever larger, rising from the floor to swallow the panda whole as well as pinning his limbs in place—and though he still held the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass up to protect himself, it was only a matter of time before the falcon battered it down with his unending, diving strikes.

 

Slithering as quickly as she could, she left the demons to her comrades and darted like mercury across the cavern floor—but someone else had seen and was even faster. Out of nowhere, a massive silhouette suddenly appeared, thrusting a spear deep into the ground and using it to vault high above the milling ranks of demons…and then the silvery-gray, spotted form of Tai Lung landed solidly beside the panda. In only a few seconds, the snow leopard was inverting himself, pushing off from the ground with both paws to hurl himself high into the air, and as he came down he twisted sideways, kicking the incoming wizard right in the chest.

 

Even at this distance, Viper thought she heard bone crack, and she knew the force with which Chao was flung backwards into a pillar was incredible—for the pillar itself _did_ crack, a jagged, angled split that almost knocked a complete section out of the roof support and left the falcon covered in crumbled dust and sunken at least two feet into the stone.

 

Landing with a crunch on the ground again, Tai Lung cracked his neck, snarled softly, and glared up at Chao as he stood between him and the cowering Dragon Warrior. "You stay away from him. _Nobody_ gets to beat up on the panda. Except me."

 

From behind him, rising upright again and gingerly, slowly breaking free of the icicles with soft crunches and cracks, Po let out a weak chuckle. "Awww, big guy. I didn't know ya cared…"

 

"Shut up." This last was said off to the side, from the corner of his mouth, for the ex-convict refused to take his eyes off the falcon.

 

And rightfully so, for even as she watched, Viper saw the mage wrench himself free of the winged impression in the rock, glare hatefully down at Tai Lung, and then wheel across the Vault for another attack run. The snow leopard didn't allow him the chance, however—after briefly checking to make sure Po was all right, he raced on all fours across the ground; scrambled up the side of Jin Hu's nearest leg, then his chest and arm until he had reached the ox's shoulder; and then from there sprang out into open space with a thunderous roar.

 

So swift was he, he succeeded in landing atop Chao's back before the wizard could dodge in time, his muscular weight bearing the bird down in a wild, frenetic spiral which threatened to become a crash landing if the falcon didn't manage to pull up soon. Twisting and writhing about in mid-air, both of them clawed at each other with impunity, Chao's beak pecking and Tai Lung's fangs digging into feathered flesh so savagely and fiercely that it actually made Viper blanch. Then the two struggling, enraged combatants tumbled out of sight behind the statue of the mountain cat.

 

Pulling her gaze away, she hurriedly slithered over to where Po was still struggling out of the ice. But as she rose up on her coils and used her tail tip to start smashing and chopping the frozen crystals free, she was startled and deeply worried to see huge tears brimming over in the panda's bright green eyes—which looked desperate, scared, and filled with doubt. And as soon as he met her gaze, and his arms were free to move, he ripped off his helmet, throwing it down to clatter on the ground, buried his face in his paws…and began to sob.

 

"Po!" Viper cried, both stunned and upset. "What's wrong? You're fine now, you're not in danger anymore. And if you're worried about Tai Lung, don't be, he can take care of himself just fine. Or you could join him and help him out, if it's really necessary." She paused, narrowed her eyes suspiciously, and then added, "Unless…what's going on? Did Chao say something to you?"

 

The Dragon Warrior jerked his head up from his paws, and she was startled all over again by how red-rimmed and bleary his eyes already were, tears streaking his cheek fur and his lower lip stuck out and trembling like a pouting cub. "Oh gods, Viper! I…I wanna help, I gotta…I can't let Tai face that monster alone…but…there's no way I can win. He…he's right about me, I'm just a bloodthirsty killer, no better'n Tai used to be!

 

"An' even if I did win…what if I made things worse, same way I did when I used th' Wuxi Finger Hold? Oh, this is _all_ my fault…" Staggering out of the ice, he fell to his knees in front of her, dropping the shield and clutching his head as if he longed to beat it against something.

 

" _What?_ " Nothing he was saying made any sense at all—could some mystical power of Chao's somehow have addled his brains?

 

But Po was still blubbering, hiccupping and gasping, almost completely incoherent; she thought she caught a few words here and there, a phrase or two: "…just like my dad…Chao…free 'cause I let him out…"

 

Realizing she wasn't going to be able to be of any use unless she could get a clear sentence out of him, Viper sighed, nerved herself—and slapped Po, hard, across the face with her tail. Immediately he fell silent, staring at her in mingled disbelief and submission—as if he actually believed he deserved such treatment. Her heart lurched. _Chao's really done a number on him…_ "I'm sorry," she said softly. "But you were getting hysterical. Now tell me, Po…what happened? What are you talking about?"

 

The panda stared at her silently for several moments, with such fear in his eyes it was clear he believed she would hate him or reject him once she heard what he had to say. But she only stayed staring at him, pouring all her kindness and affection for him into her eyes, refusing to turn away and letting him know she was there for him, no matter what.

 

At last he sighed…slowly and haltingly at first, then with greater speed and abandon as if he could not get the words out fast enough, he related it all to her—what Chao had said to him, how his usage of the finger hold had been what freed the _chi_ wizard and unleashed his evil upon the empire, and how whenever he had begun to rage and lash out at his enemy, it had only been another way in which he became more and more true to his flawed, villainous heritage.

 

By the time he had explained everything Chun and Jia had told him about his long-lost parents, what Ping had confirmed, and how it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that instead of a hero, he was just a cutthroat, a murderer, and a dishonorable evildoer like Bao who would one day come to enjoy combat and blood-letting more than anything else, Viper could only stare at him in horror.

 

Not because she agreed with him, or blamed him in the slightest for all that had happened, but because she could not believe what she had heard. _Of all the times they could have told him something like this, it had to be **now**?_

 

If she didn't know better, she'd think they had done so on purpose, to render Po vulnerable and insecure, easy prey for Chao. But Jia had shown, by changing sides, that she was too good-hearted in the end to do such a thing, and the way the panda told the story, both of them had simply wanted him to know the truth, to keep their promise and look out for him at last. Their timing left a lot to be desired, but the assassins couldn't have known of the Dragon Warrior's self-esteem problems. Then again, perhaps Chun would have done such a thing…

 

She shook her head. It didn't matter; what mattered was doing damage control, and helping Po to realize that even if all this was true, it had no bearing now on who he was or what he could do. Glancing aside, she saw that part of her company of ghostly Warriors had closed ranks around them, keeping any wayward demons away from the conversing masters who would otherwise seem far too vulnerable. Good; that meant she had the time and safety for this critical conversation.

 

"Po." She had to repeat his name several times to get him to look at her, and when he finally did it was with a violent flinch, his expression as if he expected to be severely punished.

 

"I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely. _This is not your fault_. You couldn't have known what all the hold would do…you just did what felt right to you, as you always have. It helped you win, and it saved Tai Lung as well as the Valley. Don't ever forget that! Everyone in the village knew you were a hero, they cheered and celebrated for you, because you kept there from being another rampage. And though they didn't know it then, you were doubly a hero that day: you spared a life. You chose forgiveness over vengeance, love over hate, and friendship over death. You made it so Tai Lung could redeem himself—and in the process you gave back so much more to the Valley…to Master Shifu…to Tigress."

 

She found herself shaking with the passion of her words. "Even everything Chao has done is worth all that, in the end. And I'm almost positive more of us would be dead, and we would not be able to stop him, if you hadn't saved Tai Lung. If Chao was going to get free one day anyway, at least it's now, when we've got the weapons and the wills to defeat him!"

 

Viper paused again and was heartened to see Po looked extremely mollified, embarrassed, and agreeable after that diatribe. But when she spoke again, she softened her voice considerably—the much more difficult issue still lay ahead. "As for your father…I can't pretend to know who he is or was, what made him become as he did, or how much of him there is in you. But from the story the Wu Sisters told you, it sounds to me like he still did right by you, no matter what darker side he had.

 

"The circumstances he was in helped shape him, but no matter how cruel or callous he became when he robbed and attacked his victims, he clearly still loved you. He helped you find a good home…he made sure you'd have a family that would care for you as if you were their own…and he hoped you'd grow up to be a fine man to make him proud. That sounds like a good father to me, whatever else Bao was."

 

Sniffling heavily, and rather sounding as if he had a terrible head cold, the panda spoke in a very small voice. "Are…a-are you sure? I…I don't wanna be a berserker killer…" He hung his head.

 

"Then you won't be," she declared simply, reaching out with her tail to catch his chin and force him to look her in the eyes again. "I don't care what you did or didn't inherit. I've always believed that who we are is our own choice as much as what we get from our ancestors. Before my fangs grew in, it seemed like I would never have my father's ferocity and deadliness in battle—did that stop me from learning kung fu anyway? If you don't want to become enamored of killing, gleefully lording over every gruesome injury you deal out, then I know you'll find the balance—the way to be fierce and powerful without going overboard about it."

 

Po managed a watery smile as he tried to wipe away his tears. "You…you got a point, Viper. I…I don't have to be anythin' I don't wanna be. I always got a choice. Moderation an' balance…yeah, that's all I gotta stick to, an' I'll be fine…" Unsurprisingly, his voice quavered tremulously and was far too tinged with doubt and uncertainty for her tastes. But at least he was saying the words—that was a good start.

 

Biting her lip, the serpent cast her gaze in a wandering arc around the chamber as she tried to think of some other way to bolster his confidence, to help her friend see that he was still a hero, still the Dragon Warrior, and could be whatever he wished no matter who and what his parents were. Then, suddenly, farther down the line of statues of ancient masters, she spotted something that made her breath flee, something she hadn't noticed until now, hidden as it was in the shadows at the far end of the room…and then a huge, beaming smile appeared on her face.

 

"You still don't believe me? You don't think you were meant to be a hero, to use that scroll, to fight as a protector of the Valley and bring peace to everyone in it, no matter who your family was?" Viper couldn't keep the note of triumph out of her voice and didn't try. "Why don't you take a look down there, Po…"

 

Following her lead, the bear turned and peered along the Vault of Heroes—then he gasped, rubbed his eyes (as much because of the astonishing sight as to clear them, she suspected), and stared in awe…excitement…and dawning hope.

 

There, beyond the statues of Oogway and Grand Master Viper, beyond the statues of the Ninja Elephant and what looked like a panther—loomed the hundred-foot-tall figure of a _panda_. As large, plump, round-bellied, and beatifically smiling as any Buddha, paws held horizontally before his chest in a _vitarka_ mudra as if to clasp the sphere of the world in their grip…yet unmistakably a warrior by the confident, determined kung fu stance in which he stood, with an unwavering commitment to good and a fierce readiness in those extremely knowing eyes and the set of his broad shoulders.

 

The fact he was in the chamber at all, of course, denoted his status and worthiness…but the longer anyone looked at this panda, the clearer it would be that he belonged here, that he had the knowledge, training, and strength to match any of the other heroic legends depicted in the artwork.

 

By the time Viper looked back at Po to see if he had reached the same conclusions, the Dragon Warrior's jaw was again trembling—not with fear or despair, but with resolution and barely restrained determination. When he caught her eye, the panda smiled with a new gleam in his emerald gaze, a light which suggested inner knowing, a newfound purpose, a fervent and implacable courage in the face of any odds.

 

As if unable to stay still with all these emotions churning inside him, Po immediately lurched to his feet from his rather pathetic slumped posture, in the same motion snatching the shield from the ground and fitting it into place on his forearm. The change in him was remarkable, startlingly abrupt, and it made her heart flutter with amazement herself. Could it really be that simple, showing him a panda was once a great kung fu legend? Or could it be more…the sacred and divine power of this place…?

 

"I do see now," the bear murmured firmly. "Anyone can be a hero…anyone can be meant for great things…anyone can do th' impossible. They just gotta believe…an' if I'm so worried about turning out like my dad, all I gotta do is take all that anger, all that love of killin', an' put it in a warrior's spirit. Channel it…use it t' take out evil. Yeah. Negative t' positive. Yang t' Yin…"

 

Leaning down to pick up his helmet, he shoved it onto his head again, slamming the visor back down with a martial air. Then, heedless of the places where there were rents in his armor and the exposed fur was badly bruised and bleeding, he executed a kung fu bow and nodded to her. "Thanks, Viper. I owe ya big-time. What would we ever do without ya?"

 

And with that, he wheeled about, squared his shoulders, and raced off in the direction in which Tai Lung and Heian Chao had disappeared. Staring after him, the serpent felt her mind reeling as she wondered just what she'd unleashed—whether the gods had truly known of Po eons in advance…whether the appearance of a statue to inspire him had been sheer coincidence, or another one of Oogway's non-accidents…and whether the Dragon Warrior would now provide the key to help destroy the _chi_ wizard, or become so fanatically devoted to the cause he'd recklessly sacrifice his own life.

 

What she did know, however, as she turned back to take up the trident and rejoin her comrades in fighting the _yaoguai_ , was that the nature of the battle had just veered in a new direction—and whatever happened, Chao wouldn't know what hit him.

                                                                       

* * *

 

Back to back, perfectly matched in every way save fur and eye color, their motions as choreographed as if they'd fought and trained together for years the way the Wu Sisters had, Mei Ling and Jia stood arrayed against the demons of WuShon with all the bravery, fortitude, and plain stubbornness for which their line had been known, at least through their shared father's side.

 

Considering the scimitar had been Wu Xuan's favored weapon, and the violet-eyed snow leopardess still fought with her _da huan dao_ , Mei Ling mused, the only way the comparison could be any more apt was if Jia had produced the sword their father had given her years ago and wielded it instead. But the former assassin was just as skilled with the double-bladed weapon—and as she twisted, turned, rotated on one leg, and brought the scimitar around again and again to chop off claws, horns, hooves, and even whole limbs with gouts of fire, with Mei echoing her precisely with her sai, the mountain cat discovered to her delight that she wouldn't have it any other way.

 

Catching her half-sister's eye, Mei smiled broadly. Even now, she couldn't believe it—that the one she had hated for years, believed responsible for Wu Xuan's murder, and wanted to see killed herself for the deed, was innocent…and that once convinced of this, she'd been able to in turn help Jia redeem herself and get rid of the real culprit. With Xiu now dead, she was positive their lives would both improve dramatically from this day forward.

_I'll make sure everyone understands, that nobody thinks she's bad anymore. I'll get in the Emperor's face and shout him down myself if I have to, to get her pardoned! I bet Chun would help me, she never wanted Jia in that life either…and then I'll tell Mother the truth. She'll know she was wrong, too. And all of us will be a family again, after we make it out of here. It all starts today._

 

With that resolution made, the Li Dai graduate nodded firmly, paused the briefest of moments to entwine her arm around Jia's in a gesture of solidarity, and then she wheeled about to deliver another series of slashing, ripping, violent strikes against the _yaoguai_. One sai she buried to the hilt in the muscular, hairy chest facing her, only to jerk it in a sharp diagonal down its body, almost literally severing the creature in two. The other she stabbed back behind her, impaling a demon right in the eye so that it roared explosively—unleashing a belching pillar of flame from its gaping maw.

 

She ducked this, letting it scorch the crystals behind her into a sooty, blackened mass, then whirled about on one foot to slam yet another demon in the hip, tossing it sideways until it fell into a pool—where one of the Warriors of Tenshu gutted it with its phantasmal _dao_. Behind her, she saw as she glanced back over her shoulder, Jia's pixie-like face was intent and unyielding as she methodically mowed down one horrific being after another, her scimitar blades descending again and again to sever heads from necks, torsos from waists, and even cleaving her attackers from crown to viscera—though the demons had none, instead collapsing in bloodless chunks which were then consumed in shadowy fire.

 

And as she looked past the ex-Wu Sister, Mei saw the other members of the Furious Four— _Five!_ she marveled in almost giddy relief—were just as amazingly and successfully taking out their own opponents.

 

Just as she and Jia were leading one contingent of Warriors in a broad, sweeping curve to flank the _yaoguai_ —and Mei was still stunned even now that these brave, heroic spirits, who had sacrificed their lives to protect helpless potters from the demons of the Scarlet Moon, would come to their aid at all, let alone take orders from the living as if they were their generals—Tigress was doing the same down the middle of the cavern. No longer needing to concern herself with clever strategy or thinking rapidly on her feet, as she'd had to do when facing Chun, the leader of the Five seemed to completely let herself go, launching at the mindless _yaoguai_ with every ounce of brute force she possessed.

 

A maelstrom of whirling, kicking, punching fury, she slashed again and again with the Ninja Weapons—first alternating blows, then in tandem—as if she were threshing a wheat field for harvesting, and the demons were indeed toppling and bursting into flame with shocking, sudden regularity. Utterly relentless, the striped feline testified as well to the sheer strength she possessed as well as the offensive power of her style…for when she wasn't cutting wildly with the _dao_ sabers until they practically seemed invisible, she was assaulting the supernatural creatures directly.

 

Backflipping to land between two demons, Tigress aimed a reverse roundhouse without even looking, taking out the one behind her—then tossed one blade in the air, glittering in the light of the crystals, so that she could lunge forward and literally lift the enormous, muscular _yaoguai_ one-pawed over her head, claws digging in firmly for a secure hold. In seconds, she had hurled it halfway across the cavern, bowling over and taking out a large crowd of the demons that had been surging toward her—and this still left her time to catch her sword as it fell, then instantly resume hacking away at the enemy. Mei's jaw dropped.

 

Yet Tigress still wasn't done, as she next turned to stab a crocodile-like demon right through the gut, pinning it into the pillar behind it. Leaving the sword quivering in its scaled belly, she now had her right paw free to claw viciously at another snarling _yaoguai_ , ripping its throat out and sending it skyward in the same blow. Reaching behind her to yank out the sword she'd left behind 'for safekeeping', Tigress ripped the inverted blade up the demon's torso, shredding it apart—and as the one she'd clawed descended back to earth, she brought both Ninja Weapons about to meet in a crossing strike, neatly decapitating the beast.

_Gods…I've never seen anyone use weapons like that, especially in combination with Tiger style!_

 

Meanwhile, once she returned to the fray from what looked like a very heartfelt, intense discussion with Po, Viper too was leading her ranks of Warriors just as agilely and decisively. Thrusting the Invisible Trident forcefully into the ground, presumably burying the tines but leaving the shaft still jutting vertically, the serpent wrapped her coils around it—looking eerily as if she were floating in mid-air without support—and then whipped her tail outward.

 

Again and again, while the weapon gave her the higher ground so she could finally come within reach of the taller demons, Viper struck out to smack with bruising force across ribcages and diaphragms, or slashing with extreme precision to crush throats and muzzles. Almost faster than the eye could track, she also slithered up and down the trident with ease, aiming at the smaller demons so as to trip them up—or even, when she put her own considerable strength into it, snapping both ankles of her howling attackers.

 

Crane, although still badly incapacitated thanks to his broken wing, had taken up the role of protector for Shifu's downed form. Although Mei's heart lurched in her chest whenever she saw the sharply bent angle of the waterfowl's bone, how his wing hung so disturbingly limp and bedraggled at his side, and in general she worried so deeply for him it almost distracted her far too much at critical moments, she also couldn't deny that the man she loved was even now as brave and skilled as ever. When she'd rescued him from atop the statue, she'd brought down with him his single Ring Blade, and he was wielding it now grasped in one taloned foot, blocking the horns and claws of incoming demons again and again with a grim, determined expression.

 

Even as she glanced in his direction now, one of the Warriors of Tenshu, ironically enough a huge, bluff lion, rose mystically along the side of the cavern wall until he came to where the other weapon was embedded in the stone, then pulled it free and carried it down to the waiting Crane's lone good wing. Noticing her looking from close by, the spectral feline glanced at her—she was startled to see that though all of him was composed of the same glowing blue light, his eyes were fully formed and quite warm, not the empty hollows she'd expected of the dead. Then the lion winked, smiled, and turned to rejoin his brethren. "Hold fast, sister," he intoned in a soft rumble. "Hold fast…"

 

Still parrying and halting the attacks of the demons with her sai, Mei could only watch in fleeting glimpses and flashes of movement—but nevertheless, what she beheld as she and Jia continued to harass, dismember, and eviscerate the _yaoguai_ into piles of ash and bone was more than impressive enough. For each perfectly regimented, highly trained, masterful rank of Warriors fell into line behind each of the female kung fu fighters, instinctively following their lead without consultation, provision, or hesitation—as if trusting their mortal counterparts implicitly to do the right thing and justify their command, as if they'd rehearsed it all years before. And what they did to scatter and overwhelm the demons proved just how they had stopped the assassins centuries ago.

 

Each swath of the sacred protectors followed a different strategy, which by chance or design seemed to align well with the general leading them. Glancing behind her, Mei saw that the warriors following herself and Jia had gathered into a massive V-formation, led by the armor-clad figures of an ox and a lion—she couldn't be sure, but she thought the latter was the same one who had encouraged her just moments before. Even as the sisters parted to let them pass, the ghostly combatants rushed forward in a surging wave, the pair leading the charge swinging their enormous swords in huge arcs to completely sever demons in two.

 

The _yaoguai_ dodged, of course, since the attack was incredibly obvious and, once committed, the leading Warriors could not change their course—but it had only been a ruse, a mask…the sort a Wu Sister might use. For their companions came right on their heels, parting like the sea around a rocky outcropping, the crocodiles dropping low to slither and wriggle across the ground and rush at their enemies' legs while the tigers leaped ten feet off the floor to descend upon the demons from on high. And even as the _yaoguai_ took the brunt of this two-pronged assault, the same kind that Mei and Jia were continually applying with their sai and _da huan dao_ , a line of bulls appeared behind the demons, impaling them at once on their swords.

 

Meanwhile, the Warriors following Viper decided to adopt her own evasive, lashing tactics. The larger soldiers, gorillas and oxen and rhinos, aimed high at their opponents, doing incredible amounts of damage with maces, morning stars, and double-bladed lotus axes. The relatively smaller soldiers, the wolves and bears, struck low with staffs, chains, and daggers to spill demons on their backsides, entangle their limbs, or chop through tendons and muscles. And the rest of the Warriors wove in and out in endlessly shifting, random patterns, striking again and again at the torsos and midsections of the _yaoguai_ with their spears, hammers, and Mongolian flambergés.

 

Where these tactics were ineffective or not satisfactory enough, the spirits were actually swarming over their enemies, bearing them downwards by sheer weight of numbers despite being shades, stabbing them repeatedly in eyes and necks, slashing them viciously over every inch of exposed black flesh, or simply battering and punching and kicking them with fists and feet. Whether it was countless foxes, rabbits, and geese clambering atop the most gigantic of the demons, or the most hulking felines, canines, and bovines ganging up on the smaller, spindlier of Chao's summonings, the Warriors of Tenshu were slowly but surely, with determination and unwavering resolve, and with perfectly synchronized, nearly identical styles, taking out their hated foes.

 

Those following Tigress chose to participate in an entirely different way—since the leader of the Five had basically gone berserk in her attacks, the warriors stayed well out of her way (a wise choice, Mei thought, since this not only kept them from distracting her, it kept her from accidentally hurting them by mistake). Instead, almost as one, the contingent of panthers, leopards, and house cats formed a battalion stretching across a fair portion of the cavern—and as one drew their crossbows.

 

Before the mountain cat could blink, volley after volley of the deadly accurate, whizzing missiles flew through the air in an arcing curtain of death, and such was the archers' skill and clarity of vision that they easily targeted weak points no matter how far away their enemies were: knees and elbows were shattered, blazing eyes impaled and exploding with flame, gaping mouths forced to yawn unnaturally wide as arrows propped them open, piercing their hard palates and the skulls beyond… One by one, like scythed grass, the _yaoguai_ fell, and for each that did, it was one less for Tigress to worry about, thinning out their ranks and making it far easier for her to continue kicking ass.

 

For hours, it seemed, the kung fu warriors and their ethereal allies waged war against the forces of the underworld. Muscles ached and burned, sweat stung Mei's squinting eyes, wounds dealt by slashing claws and biting fangs stung and throbbed with increasingly agonizing pain, and her mind became numb with both the adrenaline rush and the onset of battle fatigue. But she didn't allow herself to give in, or to set her body on autopilot, and neither did any of the other Jade Palace masters—far too much was at stake here to risk becoming complacent, and her will to win and end this assault of darkness was as strong as everyone else's.

 

Besides…while it was true that for every demon which went down, another seemed to take its place as they continued to pour from the gateway, the Warriors of Tenshu were just as limitless in number—and none of them were slain, went down, or even lost heart and hope to retreat, so that they were always there to shore up the defenders whenever they became too tired, frustrated, or despairing. Literally, in some cases, as more than once the mistress of the thousand scrolls saw a shimmering blue form supporting Crane, or a pair flanking Tigress when she stumbled and went down briefly on one knee, and she herself felt the hair on the back of her neck and down her spine rise and ruffle as if in a chill wind whenever the Warriors encircled her to ward the demons away.

 

Eventually, however, just as she was beginning to think that even with their spiritual assistance they would never destroy or banish their adversaries, that either they would all succumb one by one or they would be caught in an endless, hellish nightmare battle until Chao himself was removed from the picture, something happened that changed everything. She heard a familiar voice letting out wild whoops and focused, forceful _kiai_ s, and she twisted her head to look across the Vault, toward the portal—toward Master Monkey.

 

Mantis was nearby, of course, leaping and springing and bouncing around madly, severing Achilles' tendons and striking joints with precise force, until the air was fairly full of bursts of golden light and the demons were staggering, limping, and collapsing as their limbs refused to work properly. But all her attention was devoted to the simian, who was truly testifying to his phenomenal fighting skills.

 

Mei Ling knew from experience, as well as from her classes at Li Dai, that it took years to achieve mastery of nunchaku—being wrong by a quarter of an inch was often sufficient to completely unbalance them, so that at the very least their erratic trajectory made the wielder their own target. And the worst could be very bad indeed…

 

Yet Monkey evinced none of this amateurish, undisciplined movement, as for example Po would likely have displayed. Instead he performed each grip-switch and shoulder pass with such fluid grace and unhesitating confidence it was as if he'd been born knowing how to manipulate the weapon, and the motions he applied to and through the nunchaku were nothing short of astonishing. As if the chained wooden flail were simply a very long extension of his arm, he employed it one-handed as he still used the Iron Fist to either break jaws and punch out _yaoguai_ or to support his body while he flung himself through still more breakneck, rapid gyrations.

 

The nunchaku, despite only being long enough to hang along his forearm, swung up again and again to snap off horns and claws, and the sound of cracking bones was quite regular and pleasing in the air. He didn't even seem to need it to shield his body, so light on his feet and flexibly evasive was he—instead he employed the weapon without ever striking himself, around his shoulders, beneath his arms, between his legs, unerringly smashing each demon before it could even touch him, even as he backflipped, spun about on the Iron Fist, lunged backwards, and rolled across the ground to stay out of reach.

 

Even this was not the extent of his awe-inspiring feats, however. For even as he fought his way, foot by foot, through the surging bodies of the _yaoguai_ , closer and closer to the rip in reality that Chao had torn asunder, the golden langur threw himself into a controlled forward tumble, literally striking the demons blocking his path so that they toppled one after another like lined-up dominoes.

 

As he came out of this impromptu dive, he suddenly sprang upwards, high above the demons' heads, to avoid a blast of flames from the nearest gaping maw, only to invert himself and catch hold of the projecting hilt of one of Master Dog's stone swords with his prehensile tail. At the end of the arc he let go, flying past the demons to land several yards from where Mantis was perched on a boulder near the gate—only to suddenly duck down as if to snatch something from the ground.

 

In that moment of inattention, the howling horde swept up behind him to try and catch him unawares. But as he scooped up whatever it was he'd seen, Monkey twisted into a hand stand, tossing the nunchaku up so as to have both hands free for the gymnastic move— _and caught the nunchaku with his tail_.

 

Mei Ling was so startled by this she barely noticed when a demon came rushing at her from the side, how Jia intercepted it to bury one of her scimitar blades in its groin, or how another came up from behind her which she instinctively skewered through the throat. Before her eyes, the primate was proving why he deserved her trust after all, and her gratitude that he had been allowed to come on this quest—for as he twisted about atop both hands, kicking and striking at the creatures surrounding him, his tail proceeded to wield the nunchaku with the same consummate skill.

 

It even, somehow, managed to take what was usually a severe limitation of the weapon, the tendency to recoil back toward the fighter if he wasn't careful, and use it to his advantage…for instead of fighting the recoil, the simian used it, so that whenever the nunchaku flew back on its chain (and nowhere near his body in the least), it struck a demon full in the face, shoulder, sternum, or ribs, one recoil leading into another so that it kept building up momentum, one combo flowing right into the next and only striking with more and more force and velocity.

 

By the time he had spun again and flipped back to his feet beside Mantis, all the nearby _yaoguai_ were lying about like so many discarded toys—or perhaps more accurately, chopped kindling. None were nearby to stop him from what he intended to do…and Mei Ling was somehow not surprised when she saw that what he'd picked up was the other half of the Sword of Heroes, the shortsword.

 

The mountain cat glanced at Jia's flushed face, then pressed back-to-back with her, slashing with ever increasing violence at the demons still menacing her as she yelled out across the cavern at the two males. " _Go on_! Do what you came there to do!"

 

Nodding with alacrity, the insect leaped off of his boulder, straight at the shimmering, shadowy portal—but instead of passing through it, he reached out at the last second to grasp at its edge with his pincers, which Mei saw were glowing with his gathered _chi_. Somehow, he succeeded in latching onto nothing, floating in mid-air…and with an odd quaver, as of heat waves rising from stone on a blistering summer's day, the rent was dragged along by Mantis's pincers.

 

When it was close enough to the far edge, he grasped both and, exerting every ounce of the immense strength he possessed, held the tear closed. Trembling with the force it took to do so, he shouted, "Now, Monkey! Use the Sword, mark the gate the way I told you!"

 

Suiting actions to words, the langur wielded the knife in one hand, the shortsword in the other—and with alternating blows, as if he were using a hammer to pound fenceposts into the earth, he began carving out strokes in the air…each cross of the weapons over the gateway leaving a vivid green line, beginning to form the hanzi of the seal. As he did so, he chanted the same words he was writing, softly at first but gradually louder to rise above the tumult of battle: " _Fēng bì yŏngyuăn…fēng bì yŏngyuăn…fēng bì yŏngyuăn_ …"

 

Almost as one, all those demons which had not been turned into ash and dust or otherwise taken out of commission, all those which had been caught up in facing the rest of the Five, attempting to get past Crane to slay Shifu, or contesting with their immortal enemies of Tenshu, wheeled about as they heard the mystical words uttered. Every snarling, bloody, fire-wreathed face twisted in an expression that mingled rage with despair, hatred with fear.

 

Abandoning whatever they were doing, letting out unearthly cries and screams that rose into a single, tumultuous roar, the _yaoguai_ leapt toward the two masters rendered helpless by their tasks—and Mei Ling felt her heart plummet and every inch of her shiver with the icy fingers of horror as she saw the wave of demons suddenly begin to…blend together.

 

Fire churned and leaped about them like solar prominences, joining to become one immense inferno, and then the sinewy, ropey, muscular bodies began to literally meld and flow together…faces disappearing in the maelstrom, the light burning an even brighter and more lurid scarlet, crimson, and vermilion as it rose to tower higher, higher than the largest stalagmite or crystal, larger than even the statues of the great masters…

 

In moments the destroyers of WuShon had transformed into a single terrifying entity—horns which seemed to span the entire cavern, a face which was only a fleshless, gap-jawed skull, a gigantic body of pulsing, seething, veined muscle, and all of it burning with endless lava and flame that roiled and flared and continually renewed itself with a constant motion that made it seem somehow alive.

 

 

Another roar, louder than ever, burst from the skull's mouth—whether a cruel, sinister laugh or a furious curse upon them all, Mei couldn't tell. Nor did she care…for all she could think, as she stared up in stark fear, was that they had severely underestimated their enemies…and now they would all quickly perish. At least, she _hoped_ it would be quick…

 

While all the others froze in place, also staring upwards at the holocaust of evil and destruction that had been unleashed in their midst, Mantis only looked back over his shoulder—and while he did blanch briefly at the sight of the giant demonic figure lurching toward him and Monkey, he didn't hesitate more than a few seconds. "No, no, it's okay, I got it, we can handle this! Everyone, grab the sacred weapons, drive 'em in the ground around it to make a magic circle! And then let the Warriors do their thing…"

 

Blinking, Mei peered incredulously from one face to the next—but after only a few moments of confusion and doubt, everyone began following the terse orders, and she realized that they had little other choice. It wasn't as if they had any other plan to deal with such a monstrosity…and for whatever reason, whether because of his brush with death or because he really had spoken with Oogway, the insect seemed to be extremely well-versed in mystical lore. They had to believe him, trust him, and try this…

 

One after another, each of the kung fu masters hurried forward to make their offering: Tigress, driving both of the Ninja Weapons into the ground in crossed position on the northern fringe; Viper using her tail to spring high, then slam the Invisible Trident tines-downward at the southern edge, between the demon and Monkey's feverishly laboring form; and Crane, unable to move fast enough with his wing off-balancing him, tossed each of his Ring Blades to Mei and Jia for them to stab to the west and east. The instant they did so, a ring of blue fire sprang into being around the rushing construct, and its forward motion ceased as if arrested by some unseen force.

 

It twisted about, snarling and screaming and hurling vile-sounding insults that, thankfully, none of them understood…but just as it rose to the very heights of the cavern, arms spread wide and fiery magma spewing from its mouth to blast out at them, the Warriors of Tenshu were there—surrounding it, lining the edge of the magic circle, seeming to draw sustenance from it as they became brighter, clearer, more blazing with potent power. As one, the ranks of heroic spirits advanced across the demarcation, rising up on their own cresting wave of light to counter the shadow…their endless, murmuring whisper building to a triumphant, adamant shout: "Hold fast… _hold fast_ … ** _HOLD FAST!_** "

 

By now the entire cavern was shining with the light, every crystal in the Vault of Heroes reflecting and refracting it to unrivaled proportions, the power of the gods themselves made manifest on earth, it seemed. And as the colossal demon struggled against the chains which now bound it fast, Mei heard the final slash in the air as Monkey's blades finished their etching—heard it as an echoing ripple in the fabric of existence.

 

Twisting about, she was in time to see the simian bring the two halves of the Sword of Heroes together in a ringing smack of metal, joining instantly into the familiar broadsword with its jade dragon carving. She saw the hanzi now floating in the air, four characters burning with such inner fire she swore they'd be seared permanently into the back of her eyes: 封闭永远 And then Monkey swung out with the magical blade, striking the hanzi.

 

The sound shook the entire cavern, from the roots of the mountain all the way to the peak where the Jade Palace stood, she was certain. Building and building, a bell becoming a gong and then shifting to deafening thunder, it rocked the Vault until cracks cobwebbed every pillar and stalactites began to snap free and topple from the roof. The hanzi shone brighter still, and along with it the edges of the portal which were even now sealing together…the demon roared again, in agony and anguish rather than wrath and hatred…the Warriors of Tenshu rose up around it in a glittering panoply of armor and weapons, every blade raised high before descending as one to crash onto the _yaoguai_ from a hundred feet up, bringing with them the curtain of blue light from the magic circle.

 

And then the light burst upward and outward, hurling Mei Ling and everyone else back in a violent blast. Nothing but white filled her vision—she felt something solid connect with her head, or was it the other way around?—and then she knew no more…

                                                                      

* * *

 

Contrary to his sardonic tone and the amused way he'd strutted over to interpose himself in front of the ice-bound panda, as Tai Lung now struggled valiantly in mid-air with Heian Chao, twisting about to wrench at his pinions and slam him repeatedly into every pillar and stalactite they passed, the snow leopard almost couldn't control the unreasoning rage that rose up inside him. For all joking aside, he no longer had any difficulty admitting, at least to himself, how much he'd come to care for Po—and admire him, too.

 

This was the fellow who, despite only having become the Dragon Warrior a little over three months ago, knew every detail of every kung fu legend, battle, and warrior, even things Tai Lung himself had forgotten or never bothered to learn. If anyone exemplified the philosophy Oogway had always insisted lay at the core of kung fu, it was Po, he lived and breathed it every day. The swiftness and skill with which he'd taken to his training, under Shifu, Mei Ling, Tigress, and the snow leopard was astonishing—that alone would have earned Tai Lung's deepest respect, for no longer could he pretend that a panda had no business learning martial arts.

 

And he in turn had taught Tai Lung more things than he could ever have expected—about compassion and love, generosity and good will, forgiveness and acceptance, but most of all what was truly important in life. Fine, Po's zany humor, odd slang, and laughably child-like way of looking at the world could truly grate on his nerves…but by the same token, his innocence was something refreshing, something that made the spotted feline wonder—no, _demand_ —why the world couldn't be as simple as the Dragon Warrior saw it.

 

It had been Po's mercy and friendship that saved him, in more ways than one, he had learned to release so much baggage and stressful burdens thanks to the panda. And marveling at the determination and perseverance they both had in spades, he understood that Po's words to him in his cell over his father's noodles—words he had refused to accept then—were undeniably true: they _did_ have so much in common. Without him even realizing it, Po had become like a brother to him. At times an annoying, ridiculous little brother, one he sometimes wanted to chuck out the window and whom he felt obligated to tease and belittle as only older brothers could do. But a brother all the same.

 

So to have Heian Chao attack Po, especially if the falcon still believed getting rid of him would free Tai Lung from the chains of morality—in other words, if the panda was a target only because of the snow leopard…well, was it any wonder he saw red?

 

Of course that wasn't hard to do now in any case, since not only were Chao's eyes burning with what seemed the very fires which surrounded the WuShon demons, but Tai Lung himself was beginning to smolder, crackle, and flare again with an aura of flame, one that only became hotter, fiercer, and nastier as time passed. He could see the falcon's neck feathers igniting beneath his paws as he pressed in with crushing force to strangle him.

 

"You've wanted me for _so_ long now, Chao!" he roared in the avian's face. "You've waited for _twenty years_ , you said! How d'you like it? Was it everything you dreamed it'd be? Well I have news for you—I'm just getting warmed up!"

 

If he'd been in his right mind, the ex-convict would have groaned and buried his face in his paws at this horrible pun. But as it was, in his rage he only seemed ready to make it come all the more literally true. Plummeting through the cavern, he threw Chao aside so as to catch hold of one of the Ninja Elephant's tusks, whirled around it several times in rapid succession, then flung himself up to land lightly on his trunk.

 

There he paused, drawing upon every ounce of his _chi_ he could muster, pouring it first into his stomach, then siphoning it up into his aura—and even as he pushed off with one foot to leap out into open space again, a corona of fire sprang into being, bursting out from his body in a vast, horizontal disk.

 

Unsurprisingly, Chao's eyes widened even as he took evasive action, throwing his wings wide and doing a backwards loop-the-loop to rise above the ecliptic. But Tai Lung didn't leave him time to adjust, or even plan a counterattack, for he was already grabbing onto a pillar as he fell, digging in his claws for purchase as he swung himself around it and launched out once more into the air.

 

Fists flying in a series of punches which would have pummeled Chao's chest and stomach had they been anywhere close to connecting, he sent one roiling ball of fire after another from each clenched paw, the missiles only expanding in size and sizzling with the broiling heat of his anger as they rotated wildly and flew straight after his tormentor.

 

He followed this up by wrapping his tail around a chunk of green crystal and hurling himself up to alight safely on a ledge behind the statue of Iron Ox. There he stood poised and contemptuous, twisting and leaping about in one kung fu attack after another, each producing its own fiery effect: a Tiger Fist sent out an expanding cloud of flame that nearly engulfed Chao's head; a Crane chop released a flat plane of crimson and ocher that singed his tail feathers; another roundhouse left a fiery track trailing behind it in the air as it slammed into the falcon's shoulder.

 

And (appropriately enough) when he leaped high, did the forward splits, and spread his arms wide in the advanced Dragon move, Seven Ways of Plum Flower Punch, which he had used so well against Xiu, it now unleashed an almost living, breathing torrent of flame no different from those the _yaoguai_ exhaled, as if Tai Lung had in truth become the legendary reptile whose namesake scroll he had sought all his life.

 

While a good number of these _chi_ attacks hit their mark, leaving the wizard scorched, soot-stained, and downright burnt, always his indomitable willpower and dark healing abilities brought him back from the brink of death, madder and more vicious than ever. And he did not merely spend all his time dodging, evading, and recovering. For every chance he had—whether fleeing a raging pillar of fire, twisting to duck Tai Lung's descending heel as he leapt out and up to plunge down onto the falcon's banking form, or weaving a circuitous course among the statuary and stalactites—Heian Chao never let up on his shadow _chi_.

 

While the snow leopard remained atop his ledge, he was of course a sitting duck and was continually forced to twist, backflip, and duck low to avoid the bursts of inky mist that shot towards him, but even once he leaped out into the air and was hurling himself from one statue to the next, the _chi_ master proved just as dexterous and treacherous in combat as he'd been against Crane. All it seemed to take was a thought and wing flung in his general direction, not even a carefully aimed attack, and yet another gush of ebony liquid nearly exploded in Tai Lung's face, and it seemed that for every fiery ball he sent hurtling at Chao, twice as many pillars of smoky death were sent churning back at him.

 

Every near miss left him feeling briefly weak and enervated, so that he had to pause, catch his breath, and cling to stalactites for support and to shield himself; every shot he failed to avoid buffeted his fur, left him alternately shivering with cold and breaking out in a hot sweat, and seemed to sink into his body with disgusting possessiveness. He didn't know which bothered him more, the genuine fear engendered in his heart that left him wide-eyed and trembling, or the occasional stirring in his loins; but he wanted it all to _stop_ , and would not rest until Chao and his despicable abilities were gone from the empire.

 

He raced up the walls of the cavern, digging in his claws and launching himself upward with striking blows of his feet and all the force he could gather in his powerful haunches. He flung himself out to slash at the mage's back, ripping out chunks of black feathers and leaving swirling orbs of fire in his wake, only to catch himself on another outcropping as he fell and swing about to toss himself upward yet again. Chao kicked him in the stomach with one taloned foot, hurling him back toward the wall, but the feline belied his bulk by turning it into a graceful tumble that let him land feet-first, cracking the stone with pulverizing force as he had the walls of the Hall of Warriors during his fight with Shifu.

 

Pushing off hard, he rocketed toward the falcon with murder in his eyes, slashing and clawing and swiping at him again and again, bouncing from the sword blade of the wolf statue to the staff in Oogway's stone hands and from there to Flying Rhino's horn—around which he whirled his body so as to kick Chao _hard_ in the abdomen, sending him flying away with another squawk of outraged distress.

 

Finally, Tai Lung leapt atop the edge of a spread-open war fan, wielded with a flourish in the hand of a red panda—for a moment he did a quick double-take, thinking it to be an artist's extremely inaccurate rendition of Shifu, until he saw that the statue, perched almost delicately on one foot, was female. As he gazed into the unknown woman's stone eyes, Tai Lung could not explain the sense of dread that came over him, nor the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. Something told him—instinct, maybe?—that she was not someone to slight…

 

Shaking his head to clear it of these dangerously distracting thoughts, he took one more leap and landed at last on the outstretched arm of the panther statue, the one with the stylish queue and dressed in extremely formal, high-collared military garb as if he were a general or official in the Imperial court. It took him a moment, what with being mostly concerned with keeping an eye on the darkness for Chao to appear without warning, to realize two things in rapid succession: that to judge from the lack of pupils (as if something had obscured them) and the vaguely unfocused eyes, the goateed feline was blind…and that he wasn't a panther at all, but a snow leopard…

 

While he was still dealing with the ramifications of this—pride that one of his people had, after all, been a great and legendary hero but also regret and resentment that it had not been himself—the _chi_ wizard suddenly swept down upon him, just as he'd expected. With his usual stunning speed, Tai Lung dodged aside by twisting on the ball of one foot, and as Chao forcibly bypassed him, he caught the falcon by one ankle and flung him about and down, slamming him into the leopard statue's stone arm.

 

Of course the stubborn bastard clawed at his paw to make him let go, then wriggled away across the rock until he could stand again, but as the bird rose upright his sharp eyes detected one wing was hanging slightly askew—that body-slam must have either cracked or dislocated his shoulder. _Good. Evens the playing field…for a little while, anyway_.

 

"So…you have finally mastered your rage…made it work for you…and poured it into your personal element." From the sound of his voice, it seemed Chao was torn between disdain and approval of this development. "Excellent. It is high time you learned the lessons I mastered when I was first unlocking the secret scrolls…I was beginning to think your pride and obstinacy would keep you from ever achieving your true potential…that your talent would go utterly to waste until I had made you wholly mine, and could combine my knowledge with your native power…"

 

"D'you know something, Chao old boy?" Tai Lung drawled, though his hatred and fury bubbled just below the surface, emerging as that ever-present growl. "You talk too much."

 

And hauling back one fist, he threw every ounce of his strength, every bit of pent-up energy and aggression in his taut shoulder muscles, into a stunning punch. It struck Chao right in the face, hurling him back at least thirty or forty feet to smash into the cavern wall and shattering the crystals growing there in an almost musical tinkle.

 

By the time he'd stalked down the leopard's arm, Chao had extracted himself painfully from the stone and fallen back onto the statue's outthrust fist. His beak, as he looked up and lurched back to his feet, was bent and perhaps even broken, but not, it seemed, his spirit. "Strength alone," he said haughtily, "does not win a battle." And he in turn launched his own punch.

_No, but it certainly helps_. As he sidestepped to dodge the blow and twisted at the waist so as to catch the incoming wing, however, he was taken by surprise by the burst of bluish-violet ice that formed in mid-air, a deadly rain of stake-like icicles that almost speared him to the wall. Cursing under his breath, the ex-convict dodged back along the stone arm until he was almost directly beneath the impassive feline face, and there he took up a Dragon stance and waited for the incoming onslaught.

 

He didn't have to wait long, as Chao was soon racing down the arm toward him, murder in his heartless eyes and a cry of triumph escaping his beak. Another barrage of ice shards barreled toward him, one he easily melted into harmless rain with another swath of fire from his extended, whirling foot—but not only did that render the fire completely useless for facing Chao himself, it also left Tai Lung's back vulnerably exposed to the falcon's physical attack.

 

One which was even more painful than he'd expected, since the avian had condensed water vapor from the air to form a rock-hard coating of ice around his feathered fist. Screaming bloody murder— _he just **had** to go for the shoulder I dislocated, didn't he?_—and clutching at the badly bruised bone there, he flung out his leg again to catch Chao in the chest, sending up a curtain of fire to briefly engulf him.

 

From there it descended into an almost dizzying array of punches, kicks, and blocks on both sides—although he'd thought the mage to simply be evasive, a rapid and agile opponent on the order of Crane, it seemed he could be as offensive and destructive as Tigress when he wanted to be. Back and forth they lunged along the leopard's arm, Chao still shimmering and leaving after-images of himself behind in that odd time-compressed way, with Tai Lung continually releasing balls, sheets, and spurts of flame from fists, feet, and even the tip of his lashing tail when he reversed himself to avoid an icy smack from one wing.

 

For every fiery attack he sent Chao's way, an equally frigid one was returned to him by his enemy—upswept talons across his belly that left it coated in ice; a spread wing that formed a flat disk in the air, into which Tai Lung slammed face first before he could stop himself; a halo of ice that left the snow leopard feeling surprisingly chilled whenever he passed through it (and coated his every hair with brilliant white frost); and burst after burst of knife-like icicles that, when he wasn't fast enough, succeeded in cutting his arms and legs until once again they were bleeding fairly profusely.

 

Worse to his mind, however, was the fatigue that was settling into his aching joints and muscles. On the one paw, the longer he fought and the more ferociously he applied himself, the more his previous wounds acted up to incapacitate him—the bandages on his forearms and ankles were already soaking through with blood again, the palm he'd cut open on Xiu's dagger was now bright red instead of tan and brown, the bruises on his shoulders throbbed agonizingly, and the cuts and slashes he had everywhere made him feel as if his entire skin had become a blaze of pain.

 

On the other paw, while he had found the spiritual center to master his _chi_ and release one fiery attack after another at Chao, these were fairly useless when the falcon interposed his ice _chi_. Whether absorbing the heat as they melted or simply taking the brunt of the blows, the mage's flurries of ice were keeping Tai Lung's fire from hitting its mark or even harming his enemy at all. That in turn was draining the snow leopard's _chi_ and weakening him considerably—couple that with the blood loss and flaring up of his various injuries, and Tai Lung was beginning to falter; whether he wanted to admit it or not, Chao was wearing him down.

 

Just as he realized this, the wizard made another extremely unfair move: using another wave of ice as a cover, he ducked and dodged down to the side, bringing his other leg up to jab the talons into Tai Lung's arrow wound—and as the snow leopard ducked over, almost collapsing anew from the agony, Chao suddenly took to the air again, flying up and over his head toward the statue's other fist, which was raised at an angle behind and beside its face.

 

But instead of spiraling away, he caught hold of the snow leopard's shoulders from behind, actually hauling his heavy body up off his feet…lifting him five, ten, twenty feet before hurtling in the other direction and slamming Tai Lung into the cavern wall. He didn't hear anything snap or break, but the wind did get knocked out of him…and he only barely managed to embed his claws into the stone as Chao released him and let him fall, leaving long scrape marks that slowed his descent, even as he still slid and plunged down toward the snow leopard's arm again. _This…is going to hurt_.

 

Swooping down alongside him (but just out of reach of any blows he might deliver), Heian Chao sneered at him, the expression made all the more ugly by his damaged beak. "I warned you not to defy me. Now you will pay the ultimate price…and in the end, still be mine…" So saying, he lifted his wing high, the light glinting from the blades of his claw bracer.

 

Yet before that blow could land, or Tai Lung could slam into the statue's arm at full speed, something intervened. Out of nowhere, a sudden burst of shimmering blue water arced through the air, pounding into Chao's back and sending him spinning—and then, even as the falcon was falling in a disjointed spiral, the water lashed out again in a thin, sharp tendril that slashed across the extended wing…severing its hand-like extremity so that the claw bracer still attached to it fell soundlessly into the Vault below.

 

The wizard's scream was almost deafening, but Tai Lung had more pressing matters on his mind—or at least, he did until a pair of strong, black-furred arms suddenly caught him before he could land headfirst on the stone. Unsurprisingly, his weight and momentum made both him and his savior topple over on the statue's arm in an ignominious heap (and a loud clatter of metal), but it was infinitely preferable to the alternative. Groaning, he sat up with a paw to his head, trying to disentangle himself from the pile of arms and legs, and gazed in stunned amazement at who had saved him.

 

It was, of course, Po. The very panda who had once defeated him, had now come to his rescue. And the warrior who'd once winced, cringed, or averted his gaze from the sight of blood…had not only sent Heian Chao reeling with his _chi_ attack, but had actually cut off the falcon's hand and deprived him of his weapon in one stroke. _Damn. He **has** taken a level. Maybe more!_

 

"It figures," Tai Lung growled under his breath. "The _one_ time I could have truly used your padding, and you _had_ to be wearing armor. The gods must be having a real lark with me."

 

Po sat up, rubbing his own head, but then he managed a sly grin. "Well gee, if it bothers ya that much, I can always drop ya off th' side an' let ya see if ya like landin' th' other way."

 

He winced. "No, that won't be necessary, panda. And yes, for your information, I am grateful for the save."

 

"Kinda goes with th' hero territory, y'know."

 

"Er, yes. And you do seem to be rather good at it. But you can be quite certain it won't be happening again."

 

The panda smirked. "What, you mean ya weren't _expectin_ ' me t' catch ya? Don't I remember somethin' about not wantin' t' have t' save my butt all th' time? Doesn't that mean I should be savin' yours?"

 

"Don't push it." Glancing around for their enemy, who had yet to rise out of his uncontrolled crash-landing but would surely be back any moment, even more thirsty for Po's blood, he finally managed a genuine grin as he clapped a paw on the panda's shoulder. "My goodness, Po—you certainly have become quite the savage!" He said this with a surprised smile, since he knew, in this fight, being merciless was truly their only option.

 

However, the Dragon Warrior only winced. "Uh, let's not go there, okay?" At Tai Lung's quizzical look, he added hastily, out of the corner of his mouth, "I'll explain later." Just as the snow leopard wondered why he was being so reticent, and what had caused him to clam up, the panda pointed behind him—and he turned to see Chao swooping up toward them, surrounded by an even larger roiling cloud of black _chi_.

 

"I must admit," the falcon hissed ominously, harshly, "I am rather surprised you dared come after me again."

 

"What can I say?" Po replied flippantly. "Got my second wind."

 

Heian Chao eyed him coldly, and inwardly Tai Lung had to admit to being impressed that the panda did not even flinch, let alone look away from that terrifying gaze. "And how, pray tell, did you manage to come to terms with what I told you? It matters not what worthless platitudes Viper gave you—you still know it all to be true."

 

"Yeah. But I decided somethin' else was more important. Like gettin' rid of you. Next to that, who cares where I came from? An' anyway, what ya seem t' keep forgettin' is choice. I can be different from my dad, an' I sure as heck intend t' be." Even as Tai Lung was staring at him in confusion, the panda paused, then smirked at Chao. "An' so what if I'm th' one who let ya go? Just means I get t' have th' awesome pleasure of kickin' your butt."

 

Tai Lung had the distinct impression he'd been missing out on things—a _lot_ of things. But there wasn't time to find out about it, since at that moment the wizard let out a hateful, infuriated screech and swooped toward them both, his aura surging and expanding like a vast storm cloud, ice already forming in a glittering cone around his triangular body as he descended.

 

Po didn't even give the snow leopard time to react, however, as he was already shoving the spotted warrior aside and behind him as he flung up the Shield of Fire Monkey Pass. A wave of _chi_ burst out along with it, dissolving the ice and shadow into nothing. "Go on, I got this covered for now. You just get _your_ second wind back, an' join me when ya can."

 

He tried to protest, but in his weakened state he couldn't properly fight back, and soon he found himself sheltered beneath the statue's squarish chin, grasping his bleeding side and panting shallowly to keep his bruised ribs from aching too much while he watched the Dragon Warrior go into action against their foe.

 

Shaking his head ruefully (and wincing in spite of himself as he saw Chao slam beak-first into the shield with a sonorous _clang_ ), he glanced down to the side, over the edge of the statue to the cavern floor, wondering just how Po had made it up here in time to help him. He must have bounced, flipped, and otherwise climbed along the statues, the same as the ex-convict had—an amazing feat in and of itself, on a par with how he'd scaled that house to retrieve the Dragon Scroll, and one he'd dearly love to have witnessed…

 

Blinking, Tai Lung stared with his jaw hanging as he suddenly spied something else going on down below, something that was just as worth seeing with his own eyes and distracted him, at least momentarily, from his own injuries and the very real need to get back in there and fight at Po's side again. It was Tigress.

 

Far below him, he could see her leading the charge of some of the Warriors of Tenshu against the _yaoguai_ , but unlike when he'd fought her at the Thread of Hope or any time training in the kwoon since, the striped feline was completely letting herself go. It was as if what she'd learned at Bao Gu, and since then at the Jade Palace, had been set aside—that the restraint she'd learned to keep from ever hurting others, her need to always hold back, had been dispensed with because these were mere demons, because the fate of all those she loved and the entire Valley was at stake. If there was one time to just let her true strength loose, it was now…

 

Roaring out loud, Tigress sheathed her swords so as to use her bare paws to rip off a large chunk of the glowing crystals from the nearest wall, tossing it at a demon with such strength that it shattered—fragments flew everywhere, stabbing into the surrounding _yaoguai_ while passing harmlessly through the ghostly Warriors' bodies. She followed this up by charging another demon and throwing a punch so powerful it literally caved the aberration's face completely inward.

 

As it collapsed in a mewling heap, clutching at its muzzle, Tigress turned in time to see yet another _yaoguai_ lumbering toward her, claws brandished to slice her to ribbons, leading a whole pack of them that was about to overwhelm her with sheer numbers. Without even hesitating, she raced almost eagerly to meet it, and at the last moment leaped up to deliver a forward kick to its chest.

 

Not only did she completely crush its breastbone and cave its ribs inward…not only did she send the demon hurtling backwards…but just as he had done to the rhinos of the Anvil of Heaven during his escape, the leader of the Five sent it flying right into the demon behind it—and the next, and the next, a whole line of them toppling like dominoes, all of them flung skidding forty or fifty yards across the cavern until they smashed into the wall or collapsed in a stunned, tangled heap.

 

Tai Lung, at first baffled at this display and the change it evinced, at last let his face break out into a proud smile. _By the gods, look at her go! She's got to be stronger than Po and I combined. That's my woman, all right…but I must definitely remember **never** to make her that angry…_

 

Looking up again from that awe-inspiring spectacle, he found to his pleasure that Po, too, was holding his own against Heian Chao—twisting about on one foot to deliver a roundhouse, blocking another burst of _chi_ with his shield, flipping and springing sideways to avoid a slash of the falcon's good wing. Staring at the panda in mingled disbelief and pride, he couldn't help but wonder just where the Dragon Warrior had found this new well of determination and confidence…

 

And then, gazing past him, across the arm of the snow leopard statue, he saw Po glance up with a shining countenance at something, as if seeking approval, and realized what had done the trick. For there, looming out of the shadows, was the statue of a panda master. Immediately, Tai Lung gasped.

 

 

It wasn't the fact there had been a panda who knew kung fu before Po, or that he had no idea who this long-ago warrior had been—if he had, he never would have underestimated or mocked the panda in their battle for the scroll. Of course, he had read the thousand scrolls over twenty years ago, there were a lot of them, and he'd been focused more on mastering the techniques and putting theories into practice so he could be a great hero, not paying attention to little details like who had codified the teachings. But surely he'd have remembered something like this! It was a mystery…

 

But that wasn't what truly stunned him. It was a realization which hit him like a kick to the face, made him want to kick _himself_ at not seeing it sooner, but also made everything—about his life, about this battle, and about his destiny—fall together in a perfect mosaic until it seemed nothing could pull it apart ever again. A realization brought about as he saw that the statue of the panda stood _alongside_ that of the snow leopard they perched upon, a willing ally, a fellow combatant…a brother ready to stand by him eternally. Just like…

 

Himself and Po. Two warriors as unalike as it was possible to be, yet with the same determination and heart deep inside. Oogway had tried to tell him all along.

_What one reveals, the other obscures, what was obscured is then revealed._

 

Fire and Water. Calm and passion, passivity and aggression.

_Opposing forces, rooted together, each created in a single movement, they must and always shall be equal._

 

Yin and Yang. They complemented each other completely. He was undeniably masculine (in all the good ways and, unfortunately, the bad as well), while the caring, sensitive, understanding noodle-chef had many feminine traits. How could he not have seen it? For the gods' sake, the panda was bloody _black and white_! It should have told him, marked it for him, revealed why he'd been chosen as the Dragon Warrior and Tai Lung had not…

_If one disappears, the other must disappear as well, leaving only emptiness..._

 

There was no other way to win. They had to fight _together_. If they did…it would bring balance. Pure and simple.

 

A surge of adrenaline coursed through him, and suddenly all his injuries and agony seemed to fall away, replaced by strength, confidence, and utter resolve. Leaping to his feet, Tai Lung raced down the snow leopard's arm, right as he saw Heian Chao bowl Po over with another divebombing attack—but as the panda was flung toward the statue's face, the snow leopard braced himself and caught him, absorbing the impact by whirling around on one foot.

 

He turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees, still holding the Dragon Warrior up in front of him like a shield—no matter how much it bore down upon and aggravated his injuries to support all that weight, it was worth it!—and as the falcon stooped for another assault, he was abruptly presented with the panda's enormous armored belly, and unable to stop in time slammed right into it.

 

Just as had occurred in the village square, Chao was flung violently away at an angle, crashing into a stalactite from the force of the impact and groaning audibly—colliding with so much metal, at such a velocity, had to have bruised and battered him even before the rock halted his flight. He certainly hoped it had, anyway.

 

Groaning a bit himself, Po looked up from where he dangled in Tai Lung's arms. "Nice…idea, buddy. But, do ya think…ya could put me down now…?"

 

Inspiration struck him. "Not a chance."

 

"What?"

 

Before Po could even try to struggle free or do anything to stop him, the snow leopard took as deep a breath as he could manage, ignored the pain in his side and shoulders until it faded away into a dull, distant ache, and then with all his might whirled about and flung the Dragon Warrior like a missile, straight up toward the ceiling of the cavern. And as he did so, he cupped his paws around his mouth and called out. "Remember what I taught you: _anything_ can be a weapon!"

 

He expected the panda to begin complaining and grumbling, and indeed he did look rather miffed at first…but he was extremely pleased after a moment to see understanding dawn in those green eyes, followed by a gleam of rather nasty mischief. Ahead of him, Chao had finally peeled himself off of the stalactite and was dazedly, unevenly winging back down toward his enemies—but Po, gaining speed and momentum with every passing moment, merely clenched both paws into fists and extended them before him like a battering ram.

 

The falcon had no chance to get out of the way in time, taking the full force of the Dragon Warrior's weight and his solid two-fisted punch in the gut at the same time. Gasping in pain, the wizard was again flung backwards, slamming into the same stalactite (which broke off this time from the impact) and then twirling and fluttering like a flower petal down toward the floor. _Yes!_

 

By the time Po was falling back toward the stone arm, Tai Lung was already there to catch him—and despite his great strength, the panda's weight was such that once again they were left sitting and flopped on the rock, respectively. But just as swiftly, the snow leopard extricated himself, sprang to his feet, and slapped a paw into Po's, grasping it tightly and hoisting him up as well. "You ready, big guy?" he grinned down fiercely. "Shall we give him everything we've got?"

 

A pleased, smug grin stretched from ear to ear on that broad face. "Darn right we will."

 

As Heian Chao returned once more to the battle—looking decidedly worse for wear, much more bedraggled than ever before—the two warriors were ready for him. Tai Lung struck first with a Dragon Kick that caught the falcon behind the ear, tossing him sideways straight toward Po—who once again presented his belly for the wizard to bounce off of. On the recoil, the ex-convict caught Chao by the back of the head, only to twist to the side and begin slamming him repeatedly, face-first, into the nearest crystal outcropping; he wasn't certain if what he heard was the crunch of bone or gemstone until the glowing rock smashed apart, leaving numerous shards of itself bloodily embedded in the falcon's face.

 

Screaming once more in agonized rage, Chao broke free by main force, kicking Tai Lung in the abdomen and succeeding in clawing his flesh open with his talons. But as the avian swung about to launch himself viciously at Po, the snow leopard leaped after him. Just as he'd done against Shifu in the Hall of Warriors (only this time with red and orange flames, not blue), he swung both fists back and forth, clobbering and slamming into Chao's head and shoulders, brilliant bursts of fire exploding with every strike as well as leaping up from the scarlet and golden claw-marks he left in the soulless creature's body, until the falcon's entire backside was ignited and burning brightly.

 

Falling forward and rolling about to try and smother the fire, the _chi_ master called on his ice magic once again, sending a deadly frozen crescent, rather like a fire wheel, at Tai Lung—but with both arms spread wide, he summoned an enormous manifestation of flaming, phoenix-like wings of his own which swooped down and swallowed the ice, melting it in seconds…and Po then latched onto this with his own _chi_ , turning it into a water sabre that bit deep into Chao's shoulder, nearly severing his wing.

 

Flailing wildly with the other wing, the falcon leaped blindly sideways, off the statue to fly erratically through the air, tipping and plunging up and down as he struggled to right himself. But as he finally wheeled back to attack again, Po and Tai Lung stood back-to-back—and each began to pummel him, one after the other, with their _chi_ : coiling streams of water, dragon-shaped flames, sweeping waves of crystal-blue, roiling suns of blinding ocher, they all were flung at or around Chao, and even when he succeeded in dodging or defusing them, he was still so beleaguered, so caught off-guard and wildly shifting from one direction to another, that he couldn't properly focus on them at all.

 

When Po summoned a surge of water from the air to ride upon, Chao transformed it all into a glittering crest of ice, which promptly made the panda slip and fall—but he turned the tumble into a slide, gleefully belly-sledding down the coiling construct and then sailing off the end, only to bounce off a stalactite, whirl around the tail of the blind snow leopard, and come right back up feet-first into Chao's face. The wizard skidded on his posterior right along the statue's arm, almost toppling off the edge again, but sent out another stream of dark _chi_ that caught Tai Lung right in his face—and while he was thus distracted, the falcon's foot slammed him in his injured side, again.

 

Even as the ex-convict cried out and fell to one knee, though, Po was there to haul him back to his feet. "No layin' down on th' job, buddy!" Tai Lung started to growl at him about the very poor (and entirely inaccurate) joke, but then the panda glanced past him, his eyes widened. Jerking his head back, he saw Heian Chao clawing through the air in a maddened, bloodthirsty descent—but before he could attempt to evade or counteract him, the Dragon Warrior released another stream of water, this one thin and trickling to form a sphere which Tai Lung's torso kept concealed.

 

At the last moment, as Chao was about to drive into them both, Po broke the water ball, sending it flowing around and over the snow leopard until it reformed right in front of him to be flung upwards. Chao, coming in fast, had no chance to avoid it and was hurled back with a satisfying _smack_ , this time crashing into the wall.

 

Again and again, the two warriors weathered everything Chao threw at them and returned it tenfold. Indefatigable, Po spun, kicked, punched, and slammed the falcon in the face with his shield, and when he grew tired of that bounced him yet again off his belly; Tai Lung ducked low, sprang high, clawed so violently he almost completely gouged out the falcon's eyes, and performed a series of handsprings that made both his side and his paw protest but ended with Chao taking his feet right under the chin.

 

And both of them sent wave after wave of their _chi_ after him—which, since melted ice was of too warm a temperature for the falcon to manipulate, meant that as soon as Tai Lung used his fire to dispense with the ice, the water left behind could strike their enemy with impunity. In fact one particularly massive surge came down across Heian Chao so hard that his wing broke under the onslaught; falling back to land wearily on a ledge, the avian apparently decided to stop attacking them directly with his _chi_ , instead forming gigantic masses of ice in the air and then hurling them down toward the warriors, rather like chunks of broken stalactite.

 

But Tai Lung only smiled nastily and proceeded to spring forward on all fours, leaping from one toppling ice plateau to the next, exactly as he'd done in Chorh-Gom to ascend the pieces of bridge and cavern roof dropped by Vachir's explosives. And amazingly, Po followed him—albeit with less grace and skill, but he made up for it with sheer heart as well as the occasional blast of water from the side to catch himself.

 

Seeing them coming, the falcon snarled, but with one wing broken he couldn't escape the ledge he perched upon, and from how limp and sagging he appeared, it seemed he was running out of reserves of dark _chi_ and so could not heal himself. In seconds, both Tai Lung and Po landed on the ledge, and the snow leopard launched forward to catch Chao by the throat, pinning him back against the wall. In the same motion, he slammed his other paw into the avian's good wing—snapping it in two as well.

 

"It's over, Chao," he hissed venomously. "You won't be harming us, or anyone in the Valley, anymore. Not ever again."

 

The wizard tried to answer him—but before he could get any words past that constricting paw, a sudden explosion rocked the Vault of Heroes from one end to the other. Dancing about to keep his balance, Tai Lung turned and stared down into the cavern—and while what he saw heartened him considerably, it also proved to be an inadvertent godsend to their enemy.

 

Below, he could see the glowing hanzi where Monkey had used the Sword of Heroes to etch the seal, and Mantis leaping down as the edges of the gateway melded together, disappearing as if they'd never been. He also saw the colossal demon rising high above his head toward the roof, but surrounded by blazing _chi_ and the surging, crashing waves of the Warriors of Tenshu hurtling skyward to overwhelm the _yaoguai_ in their holy essence.

 

But when the explosive force of all this spiritual energy was released at once, it didn't just banish and utterly obliterate the demons from existence in the mortal realm—it sent all the members of the Five and their allies tumbling back, and it also threw Tai Lung and Po clear of the ledge as well.

 

Thankfully, the panda landed first, and while his armor again left the snow leopard rather bruised, at least they were both still alive and mostly well. Peering up through the smoky, dust-laden air, the ex-convict saw Heian Chao suddenly burst out of the destructive cloud, flying once more without aid of wings, only hovering on his _chi_. And as soon as he saw what the others had done, that his summonings were gone and sealed away so completely they could never come back, his aura once more seethed with shadow and crimson flames.

 

Before either of them could get out of the way, two churning torrents of black _chi_ came rushing downward to wrap around the warriors, hoisting them ten, twenty feet off the statue to hang helplessly in empty space. Their arms were pinned, which made it next to impossible to summon their _chi_ —and if they did somehow manage to use it to break free or dispel Chao's _chi_ , they would then plummet downward with no support. They were trapped.

 

"No more," the wizard growled, his voice not even sounding human anymore, as if it were composed of the grinding sounds of rock crushing together, of acid hissing and roots wrenching apart, all of nature brought together and crying out in agony of its life being drained away. "I have played your games, but you shall not meddle more in my affairs. Do you think you have more power than me? I have expended much _chi_ this night, I will need to replenish it soon or risk fading away entirely…but I have enough left to destroy you…"

 

The grip of his shadowy hands around Tai Lung and Po constricted, and the snow leopard saw spots before his eyes at the same time he felt one rib, then another, give way. It hurt to breathe, to move, to live. _No. I can't let it end like this. This isn't how I'm going to die. Have to fight. For Po. For Tigress. For my father…_ Yet no matter how he struggled, his consciousness began to drift away…he knew this was it, for all their valiant efforts he was going to die, and then it would be Po's turn, the Five, all of the Valley…

 

Suddenly, as it from a long way off, he heard a voice calling out—strangled, harsh, as if from a throat rubbed raw by endless screaming. A female voice. A voice he knew, and had been certain he'd never hear again.

 

"No…you promised…you promised me, Chao. I served you loyally…I was the only one true to you…please…give me what you said you would. Don't waste your _chi_ on them…give it to me, and I will destroy them in your stead…"

 

Turning his head slowly, feeling as if it had become a boulder upon his neck, Tai Lung peered downward with bleary eyes—and he saw her. Against all odds, even though she should be dead and he had been so certain she was, Wu Xiu had somehow made it back to her feet. Leaning against a crystal formation, one paw clutched to her chest to hold in her lifeblood, Jia's dagger still protruding from her back, she held the other singed, burned paw up imploringly, her expression maddened, desperate, yet also oddly exalted and filled with unthinking adoration. If he could have, he would have shuddered. What was left of her mind? What had she become?

 

For what seemed an eternity, Heian Chao gazed down at her impassively, and it was impossible to tell if he was about to kill her in contempt, if he was amused at her audacity, or if he were merely considering her request. Then at last, he nodded, once. "You are correct, Xiu. If anyone deserves my reward, it is you. And with your _chi_ added to my own, these two will be helpless before me…" There was something ominous about those words…

 

" ** _NO_** _!_ " He wasn't sure who all had screamed, although he was positive Jia was one of them. But Chao was already extending one broken wing toward the cavern floor—and a third river of onyx _chi_ flowed downward, pouring, churning, spurting toward Xiu who now had both arms flung wide in joyous, welcoming rapture.

 

Her entire body shuddered and shimmered…even from this distance, he could see the knife work its way out of her back to clatter on the stone as the wound sealed itself…an aura as menacing and black as any Vachir or Monkey had possessed sprang into being around her…she lifted her chin high, mouth parted in endless, terrifying laughter…he could see all her wounds healing, and her silhouette seemed to swell as she burgeoned with power, becoming drunk on it, reveling in its wanton evil…

 

Yet even as this transfer of power was taking place, and Chao in turn seemed to be drawing strength from her to heal himself, Tai Lung felt some of the power restraining him begin to recede. He didn't know if Chao had overextended himself by targeting too many at once, or if this was an unavoidable side-effect of what he was trying to accomplish, but the fact was, he could feel the shadowy grip around him loosening, could breathe more freely again…and from the way Po was wriggling and squirming, he too was fighting his way free. Only a little more, if Chao's attention continued to be diverted…

 

Below, Xiu's eyes, which had been closed, suddenly began to twitch and jerk violently beneath their lids, as if she were caught in a seizure. They popped open—and her almost orgasmic cries turned into a piercing, ululating scream. " _NO!_ What—what is—happening to—" Another scream, and another. "This isn't…what you…"

 

Softly at first, then more loudly and satisfyingly, Heian Chao began to utter a cruel, mirthless laugh. "Be careful what you wish for," he whispered. "I only gave…what you asked. I am a man of my word. Is it my fault…that no mortal mind can truly comprehend, or accept, the glory of what I grant them? To understand the myriad ways of life and death…the true nature and power of _chi_ …and the power necessary to control it…that way lies madness. Some, like myself, have the proper knowledge and perspective, and can handle the experience. Others…cannot."

 

He grinned fiendishly. "And since that sadly seems to be the case for you…then I am afraid I must take from you all I can…so I can be strong enough to at last achieve my victory. Farewell, Xiu…you have served me well, and you serve me best now by this sacrifice…it is the most glorious way of all in which you can serve me. Be content in this, and grateful…your memory shall truly be exalted above all…"

 

Tai Lung stared in horror at Xiu's gyrating, trembling, convulsing form. He did not want Chao to have a _chi_ as powerful and tainted as hers—then he truly would be invincible. But even apart from this, no matter how he hated her, he did not want to see what awful fate she was about to suffer. Yet he found he couldn't look away, though whether morbid curiosity or Chao's own will was keeping his eyes transfixed, he did not know.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he did see Po still struggling, even succeeding in working one arm free…but all he could do was swallow hard and watch as Xiu's every limb stiffened, her _chi_ bursting from her eyes, her nose, her mouth and ears, rising up in a swirling cloud to join Chao's Stygian river, while her body began to wither and atrophy. Was she going to age like Jia? Literally tear apart? Or something worse…?

 

A gleam of light, as from something metallic, abruptly flashed in his vision, along with a rapidly spinning motion, and then something round and golden was flung across the path of Chao's raging surge of _chi_. The Shield of Fire Monkey Pass, hurled from Po's arm where it had been strapped all this time. It was only for a few moments, but as it passed through the mystical energy it was enough to sever the connection.

 

With a violent lurch, Xiu broke free with a weird, almost animalistic, cry, toppling first to her knees and then on her back…writhing and twisting while her paws clutched her head, her eyes bulging hugely from their sockets and her mouth foaming and frothing. At the same time, the _chi_ was reflected back at its source, slamming into Chao, pinning him against the wall, and then toppling him back onto the ledge. In that instant, the _chi_ suspending Tai Lung and Po dissipated, and as they fell, both of them propelled themselves onto the snow leopard statue—the panda landing safely on his belly after riding a swift stream, the ex-convict catching himself on all fours after blasting a fireball behind him for thrust.

 

Although he still felt terribly weak, woozy, and barely conscious after his ordeal, Tai Lung knew he had to act fast. Chao was distracted now, as well as believing in all likelihood that the two of them were down for the count. This was the only chance they had to kill him while he was still reeling from that broken connection to Xiu—before he could recover and use whatever he had absorbed from her to replenish his powers.

 

If he didn't take it, they were finished—for even without that power boost, and with the demons gone, he and Po were in no condition to fight. The others might be, but they didn't have the special abilities the snow leopard and the Dragon Warrior were blessed with. They would die. His father would die. His friends would die. Tigress would die.

 

There was only one thing that would do the trick, something he would have thought of earlier if he hadn't been so enraged. And as he glanced down to the cavern floor again, he spied it—still plunged into the ground where he'd left it when he launched himself to save Po from Chao.

 

"Tigress!" From where she'd been crouching on the ground, looking wild-eyed and almost feral, she jerked her head up in his direction. "Throw the Spear!" Another sudden inspiration came to him. "And charge it with Oogway's staff!"

 

For a moment she looked at him as if he were insane—but then slowly, wickedly, she smiled and nodded. He watched her rush to the sacred lance, scooping up the peach wood stick from where Mei had dropped it earlier as she went, then pressing the gnarled knob to the haft. It began to glow at once with golden light.

 

Whipping back to face Po, who had finally made it back to his feet as well, he cried, "Panda—I need you to bounce me off that iron belly of yours. Just like you did when you defeated me."

 

"What? Uh…okay, I guess. But are ya sure—?"

 

For a moment he didn't know whether he wanted to strangle the bear or slap his own forehead. He settled for squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds and clenching his fists at his sides. As he did so, he felt something shoved through his belt, where he'd carried it off and on, had placed its familiar heft after returning to the palace from his trial, and promptly forgotten it was there. _Yes. Of course._

 

"Quite sure. Now let's do this."

 

By this time, Heian Chao had at last righted himself and, with no longer broken wings and eyes even more fiery and lustfully mad than before, taken to the air to fly lazily toward him. When he saw both of them standing and seemingly ready to fight again, the falcon chuckled disparagingly. "Oh my…I knew you were stubborn, Tai Lung. I knew you would fight to the death. But I had believed you might, possibly, learn when to quit when you knew you were outclassed and there was no way you could defeat me. I was wrong…for the last time, I might add.

 

"Now, I shall bring this sad charade to an end…and while I could not have Xiu's _chi_ , I will have yours. Both of yours." He spread his wings wide and rose higher, prepared to unleash every drop of _chi_ within him to consume and destroy them—but also a highly tempting target.

 

"I think not," Tai Lung replied calmly. "We like it right where it is, thank you. And it's long past the time when you should have left this world. I hope your judgment will be short and swift—so what follows after will be more eternal and painful than the fate of any other soul has ever been."

 

"What? What are you talking—" His eyes fell on Tigress, who now stood with the Golden Spear held lightly in her paws, taking careful aim. " _No_ … ** _NO!_** " Instantly he flung a wing and released another burst of shadows toward her…

 

Tai Lung turned and raced along the statue's arm toward Po, who stood poised with his belly thrust out and waiting. When he was still ten feet away, he flung himself forward—struck the unyielding armor with bruising force, but he ignored the throbbing pain—and was hurled the opposite direction, at right angles to both Chao's _chi_ and the path of the spear, which Tigress had just thrown with consummate skill. As he streaked through the air, the wind buffeting his silvery-gray fur, he plucked something slender from his belt and, with just as perfect marksmanship, tossed it to flip end over end straight toward Chao's glaring, unprotected face.

 

Shifu's hammer struck the falcon right in the forehead, bouncing off his feathered skull and disappearing into the darkness behind him. It could not possibly have hurt much, done any damage, or been of any lasting consequence whatsoever. But it made Chao flinch for just one critical moment—long enough to break his concentration so that the _chi_ swirled apart before it ever reached Tigress, and long enough that he could not evade what was coming.

 

The Golden Spear, blazing more and more brightly as it neared an evil greater than any it had likely ever encountered, streaked through the air with unerring precision, a burning, fiery missile surrounded by the shining, holy glow of Oogway's _chi_. And as Tai Lung was flung across its path, he caught hold of a projecting outcropping, twisted and whirled himself back. Just as in Chorh-Gom, he kicked out in a reverse roundhouse, striking the butt of the spear to send it with even more unrelenting force, every ounce of his strength behind that kick…

 

And as if it were a hot knife cutting through butter, it slammed into Heian Chao and completely impaled him, right through the heart.

 

Thrown back by the force of that blow, the wizard slammed into the cavern wall where the spear buried itself in the stone, with him dangling from it like a slice of meat on a skewer. Still hanging from the rock on which he'd caught himself, the snow leopard had a ringside seat to watch with grim vindication, chest heaving powerfully. The instant the sacred weapon had plunged through him, Chao had begun to writhe and gyrate even more violently than Xiu, and his feathers were already smoldering and smoking.

 

In seconds, as the spear turned pure, shimmering white laced with crackling lightning of gold and vermilion, his entire body burst into flame, immolating him utterly—but even within this roiling maelstrom, the wicked _chi_ master struggled and cried out desperately. " _No! **NO!**_ This…cannot…be! I shall not…die…I will live…forever…!"

_Not quite_ , the snow leopard thought smugly. Indeed, before his eyes the layers of feathers, flesh, and muscle were peeling back, smoldering and then igniting, literally being cooked from within as every inch of the mage's body began to give off the odor of roasted meat. His body withered…his limbs and head flailed about…his eyes sank away into the depths of their sockets, his head cracked open and split back to reveal shriveling, smoking brains, while the flesh of his face vanished, leaving only a gaping rictus of an agonized skull.

 

And then, as he burst completely into flame until nothing more of him could be seen, churning black smoke began to rise from him—smoke that was not smoke, but shimmered with the telltale signs of _chi_. More and more of it was released as he was consumed…but no matter how much escaped, it never seemed to be enough. His body convulsed again within the fire, which itself seethed and expanded like a star going nova…and then the wall, and the entire cavern, began once more to shake.

_Shit!_ "He's going to blow!" Tai Lung screamed. "Po, get down from there—everyone else, take cover!" And so saying, he scrambled up onto the outcropping, leaped toward the safety of the nearest statue (the dragon) and from thence to the ground…he saw the panda swan-diving onto an ice slide that had somehow survived all the fighting, safely speeding down its slippery length…spied Crane clutching a half-conscious Mei Ling in the cleft of Takin's hoof with Shifu, while the others took shelter beneath the statue of Oogway—Monkey cradling Mantis, Tigress holding Viper, Jia shielding Chun…

 

Without warning, the blazing remnants of Heian Chao exploded in a thunderous detonation of black _chi_ —one that burst heavenward, gushing and churning in a seemingly endless geyser, a fountain of fire and darkness like a corrupted volcano spewing in awful majesty. It struck the roof of the Vault of Heroes, spread out to encompass the whole chamber…and with nowhere to go, slammed right through the tons of rock arching over the cavern.

 

Higher, higher it coursed, as an earthquake like none of them had ever felt rocked the entire Valley from one end to the other, and as it powered up through the mountain it eventually blasted right through to the surface—taking with it crystals, pillars, and the entire roof of the Vault in one endless, crescendoing, tumultuous eruption that surely could be seen for miles in any direction.

 

Even though much of the stone was soon consumed and dissolved in the _chi_ , which in turn churned wildly and violently across the sky before dispersing like tattered storm clouds, much of it also collapsed into the cavern itself in a titanic, dust-laden, crushing rain of rock and soil, along with a constant, deafening rumble that drowned everything in its explosive, destructive crash.

                                                                      

* * *

 

Slowly…very slowly, after several nonstop, cataclysmic minutes that seemed to last an eternity…the cascade of stone subsided, settling into a massive heap of boulders, sand, and pebbles that rose at least halfway up the cavern walls. Gradually, after the pile fell into place and no more loose stone was moving, the sound too faded away…leaving only an equally deafening quiet, pervasive and almost maddening in what it said, and didn't say.

 

Then, coughing began to split the stillness as first one warrior, then another, made their way out of hiding and emerged into the light of day—for not only was the roof of the Vault of Heroes now gone, but they had battled all night and dawn's first rays were streaming into the cavern from above, setting dust motes to gleaming and shining like specks of gold. Po and Tigress were the first to appear, the panda having taken shelter beneath the statue of the snow leopard and the striped feline coming out from Oogway's aegis to set Viper down on the uneven ground.

 

All three of them looked at each other—first in relief and gratitude at seeing each other alive and being so themselves, then in growing fear and worry as the same thought came to each of them. Slowly, dreading what they would see, they turned toward where Tai Lung had been hanging before the concussive blast—only to see that entire side of the cavern as well as the Jade Mountain itself had collapsed. Nothing was there but a tumbled pile of rubble…yet somehow, none of them could accept what their eyes were telling them. After all he'd been through, he couldn't be gone…

 

"Tai Lung!"

 

"Buddy! C'mon, where are ya? I know ya had t' make it through that. You're not gonna let a little thing like a rock fall kill ya when you made it through everything Chao threw at ya, are ya?"

 

Step by step, they picked their way through the wreckage, kicking stones and then shifting them aside to peer under them for any evidence…one way or another. Each of them had the same stricken look—though Po's was more despondent, Tigress's both furious and consumed with grief. "Tai Lung…don't you _dare_ do this to me! Don't you leave me like this…" She trailed off, choked back tears, swiped at an offending pile of boulders, and shuddered violently.

 

One by one, each of the others appeared—Crane supporting the still groggy Mei Ling, Jia carrying Chun, Mantis lugging along the miraculously undamaged Urn, and Monkey cradling Shifu protectively to his chest. They were all staring around in utter shock at the sheer destruction Chao's death had wrought, their weapons dangling forgotten at their sides, barely aware of the Warriors of Tenshu still gathered behind them, having retreated to a respectful and honorable distance while they dealt with their loss. Viper was crying softly, Mantis and Monkey were quite somber; Crane looked as if he'd doff his hat if it wasn't already missing, while Po seemed quite ready to flop down and burst into gasping sobs.

 

Then…from one side, some of the rocks began to move again, sliding down off the pile to the floor. And as first Tigress, then the others, turned to look but hardly dared to hope, a very dusty spotted paw punched its way out into the open.

 

"Oh gods…" From the sound of her voice, it wasn't clear if Tigress was about to start crying herself, or (more likely) thrash the snow leopard within an inch of his life.

 

In only a few moments, the paw had become an arm, and then a whole battered, bruised, bleeding body pushed out from the rocks that had entombed it, rolling and almost slithering down as if emerging from a grave. Glazed-eyed, gasping raggedly, looking far worse than even after Po had defeated him, Tai Lung crawled a few feet, then collapsed. From where he lay on his face, a muffled voice emerged: "'S'okay. I'll be…just fine. Just give me a moment…or two. Or twelve."

 

First Po, then each of the others, began to laugh.

 

After their mirth had subsided, Tigress bent down and extended a paw to help Tai Lung up. "Damn…you really _are_ indestructible, you know that? Can _anything_ kill you?"

 

"I don't know," the snow leopard wheezed, leaning heavily on the striped feline as he levered himself up and started to limp away from the rock fall. "But that time…I came pretty damn close."

 

"I'll say," Po observed. "You look terrible."

 

"I _feel_ terrible," Tai Lung amended, hoarse and growly. "I need a very long, very quiet, very _peaceful_ , vacation."

 

"What are you talking about?" Tigress quipped. "A few hours of peace, and you'd die of boredom."

 

The snow leopard laughed weakly, then clutched his wounded side with an agonized look. "Heh…you may just be right there. But perhaps I can turn over a new leaf, hmm? A few days…or months…without fighting might just be a refreshing change of pace."

 

Po nodded sagely, his smile warm and gentle rather than mocking or teasing. "Maybe. And if so, ya more than earned it. You did do what you set out t' do, after all. Ya stopped Heian Chao."

 

"No. _We_ did." Tai Lung reached out, set a massive paw on the panda's shoulder, and squeezed it firmly, a proud and determined grin of his own adorning his muzzle. "We make a spectacular team, Dragon Warrior."

 

"Darn right we do," the panda said firmly.

 

The snow leopard smirked lopsidedly. "We should try it again sometime."

 

Po smacked one paw into his other palm. "Just name th' time an' place, buddy. After how many times ya saved my bacon back there, I wouldn't want anyone else by my side. 'Cept th' Five, of course."

 

"Well what d'you expect, panda? That's what friends are for." Tai Lung paused, looking both startled and a bit awed, as if he were savoring the words on his tongue. He glanced up at last, noticed Po was eyeing him knowingly, and rubbed a paw uneasily at the back of his neck—trying not to wince as he accidentally brushed several significantly deep bruises. "Er…at least, that's what I've always heard. I'm still new to this, you know. I've never had a friend before."

 

The Dragon Warrior chuckled, not fooled for an instant. "Well, now you've got six of 'em for sure." He thrust out a paw for the snow leopard to shake…and after a few uncertain, awkward moments, Tai Lung took it. Of course, in the middle of grasping and shaking it, the panda abruptly stepped forward, catching the feline in a gentle but strong hug.

 

Between his injuries and Po's armor, it was not the most comfortable or desirable of embraces, but somehow, as he patted the panda's back and gratefully leaned against his strong chest for support, Tai Lung felt something he never had before, except from Tigress—that someone truly cared for him, loved him, and was willing to stand by him through thick and thin. It was special…and he treasured it more than he could say.

 

Or ever would. For after a few more moments, he coughed discreetly, then swiftly and somewhat roughly pulled away, clearing his throat and flushing in embarrassment. "Right. Enough of that now, mate."

 

Tigress laughed throatily, soon followed by Viper. But as the snow leopard leaned on both his best friend and his lover and limped along to rejoin the rest of the Five, they all beheld at once something to completely banish their good humor, leaving them with only a pervasive chill, tightened throats, and horrified, bleak expressions.

 

It wasn't the injuries some of them were sporting, or Mei Ling, who was slowly stirring back to consciousness, and it certainly wasn't the spectral forms of the Warriors, still watching from nearby and waiting to be dismissed. It was seeing Mantis, crouched in the cleft of Takin's hoof alongside Crane and Chun, working feverishly now on the still, silent form of Master Shifu that Monkey had set mutely before him.

 

The red panda still wasn't moving…his face had gone completely grey…and his chest barely moved at all with his shallow, whispery breathing. Both Tai Lung and Tigress exchanged stricken looks—and then they rushed as quickly as they could to their master and father's side…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of what has happened in this chapter has been foreshadowed or hinted at it in some way before this—if you missed it, have fun going back to catch all the hints. :p That being said, then, I'll simply allow you to relish the climax while informing you of a few tiny details regarding sources I used. For those of you who don't have _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ , the Vault of Heroes is indeed shown to have a statue of both a snow leopard and a panda. Of course they were meant to be fighting each other, but I altered that for the better! For those who haven't read Luna's ["Memoirs of a Master"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4576439/1/Memoirs_of_a_Master), the blind snow leopard is Xue Shan. (And I hope you also recognized the fan-wielding red panda as Wu Lien from ["That's Why They Call It the Present"](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4371270/1/Thats_Why_They_Call_It_the_Present)—I even explicitly made reference to one of my favorite lines!) The military garb the leopard statue is wearing, interestingly, is [another bit of early concept art for Tai Lung](https://i.imgur.com/v7ODGTn.jpg?1)...which Luna has told me was her inspiration for Shan in the first place. Full circle, eh?
> 
> Both the four hanzi characters and the transliterated Mandarin Monkey used mean the same thing: 'closed/sealed forever'. The huge demon construct, apparently, was an early concept the people at Dream Works developed to include in Po's dream sequence but later scrapped; in any event, it's storyboarded in _The Art of Kung Fu Panda_ so I used it. :) Lastly, for any of you who are X-Men fans, you may have recognized Chao's taunting words to Xiu as a paraphrase of what Dark Phoenix said to Mastermind/Jason Wyngarde just before she mind-blasted him. If so, this should give you a clue what Xiu's ultimate fate will be...

**Author's Note:**

> Text copyrighted 2008-2009. Originally posted on Fanfic Dot Net. Enjoy!


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